Since legal disclaimers offer all the protection of tissue paper, I will 
skip them.  However, I would like to thank Naoko Takeuchi for creating the 
wonderful work of art that is Sailor Moon.

Special thanks to Rachel Herndon for saying, "That's too long," "That goes
there," and "This part sucks."


Chapter 8  "The Mirror of Venus"

Just before Sailor-V makes the scene.  I'm taking a slight
liberty here and saying that the bank robbery and the "rescue" of
the window washers occur on different days.  That was the way it
was, really.  You would have seen it if only DIC hadn't cut out
this part.

     While standing at the teller window at the bank, I watch the
clerk count out the equivalent of a couple of hundred dollars
from my savings.  Sure I've got credit but I've got to make sure
I've got enough cash for this evening.  Namely, the date I have
planned with Miss Haruna this evening is going to take up most of
the cash I'm getting.  I glance up a Sakurada who sits primly on
one of the benches provided for the customers of the Tokyo First
National; she notices my attention and smiles at me.
     Why am I going down the romance road again?  Good question. 
Partially it's bowing to the pressure of constant inquiries from
Haruna-san and second it occurred to me that having Tsukino
Usagi's teacher talking to me on a regular basis might yield a
valuable nugget of information or two.  Like, who else Sailor
Moon (in her secret identity) is hanging around with.  I already
know about, Ami, Rei and Makoto(most assuredly they are Sailors
Mercury, Mars and Jupiter respectively), but I'd like to know who
else she might be seeing.
     Blasted transformation magic, it makes connecting Senshi
forms and regular identities almost impossible unless you know
both pretty well.  What I'm hoping to find out tonight is if
Usagi has been seen in the company of any young men.  Perhaps the
prince occupies a similar position as one of her friends in order
to keep tabs on her.  Why he is still hiding from them is a
mystery but I would guess that he has his reasons.
     Finding out there is such a young man would be well worth
the yen I'll be shelling out tonight.  First a little dinner at
this nice (but not too expensive) little place I know of to set
the conversational mood.  Then, we visit an art gallery where
this "romantic painter" is displaying her work.  I've overheard
stories from the girls in my class that buying one of her
paintings will make all your romantic dreams come true.  (Pah! 
If only life were that simple.)  Anyway, Sakurada would probably
appreciate the atmosphere.  Which also is in a quiet place to
invite conversation.  Finally, we end with a drive along the
water back to her place using a rental car I've already
strategically placed near the gallery(there are supposed to be
clear skies and a full moon tonight).  There'll be plenty of
opportunity to chitchat.  Finally, drop her off back at her place
leaving enough time to make a late night patrol with my new,
improved Dark Kingdom energy detector.
     I briskly count the bills the teller hands over, do a
fractional bow and say "Domo."  Pocketing my wallet, I step over
to Sakurada who takes my arm.  I'm about to take the first step
of what could be a pleasantly informative evening when some bozo
armed with a shotgun steps into the place.
     Hm . . .   I come from Atlanta, with one of the highest
violent crime statistics in the U.S. and I've never so much as
seen a shoplifting but here in Tokyo, a place with practically no
violent crime, I'm involved in a bank robbery.  What are the
odds?  He fires a blast off into the ceiling and shouts, "Nobody
move!  This is a stick up!"
     Cries of fear erupt from the customers and tellers.  Even if
I wasn't Trenchcoat Mask I wouldn't be impressed by this joker. 
He's fat, in his late forties, wielding a double-barreled ten-gauge
shotgun; he hasn't even sawed the thing off.  What an
amateur!  Judging by the damage to the acoustic tile, I'd say
he's got it loaded with bird shot.   This guy is a complete
novice and all the more unpredictable and dangerous because of
it.  I think about just letting him rob the place but the way
he's waving that weapon around one handed it could go off and
kill someone.  I note a couple of elderly people and children in
the crowd of customers.
     In the moments I take in the situation, I firmly move
Sakurada behind me, to protect her to be sure, but mainly to
remove an obstacle between me and my target.  She looks up at me
startled at my icy coolness.  I smile down at her reassuringly. 
When I do, I spy the perfect weapon: a rope line stand.  Good. 
It's nice and heavy and very aerodynamic.  If I hurl it with my
Guardian strength, it ought to knock the robber down quite
nicely.
     I'm wearing my normal trenchcoat and fedora, (something I've
been doing a lot of late) and I could probably transform, fling
the stand, leap on top of him, take the shotgun away, and change
back in less than two or three seconds.  Anyone who actually
notices I was wearing a tuxedo and mask for a moment there will
probably think they were hallucinating from the stress.  Got to
be careful not to accidentally kill the robber, not that I care
about sparing his miserable existence it's just I don't want to
be detained to answer questions or sign a lot of paperwork.
     Stealthily I unsnap the rope line and free the stand.  I
glance back at Sakurada to make sure she keeps cool and see that
she's horrified that I plan to take on an armed robber with a
metal pole.  I give her a confidant wink and a "this won't take a
minute" smile and look back at the robber.  Heh, I pity da' fool. 
Now, just wait until his attention is focused on the teller . . . 

     Suddenly, a boomerang comes out of nowhere and knocks the
gun from the robber's hand.  The blow sends the weapon flying
behind the counter.  All eyes follow the object back to its owner
. . .  Sailor Moon?!?!
       I'm stunned.  I'm confounded not that Sailor Moon has
intervened to foil the bank robbery, but that she's here at all. 
How could she be here?  Sakurada mentioned that she'd had to give
a particularly indolent student by the name of Tsukino Usagi
detention and had to scramble to find somebody to watch her. 
Sakurada was afraid she might miss our date.  Then I realize
something odd about this Sailor Moon: she has yet to utter a
sound.  No speeches, not even a "hold it right there," she just
stands there, sneering contemptuously at the robber.
     Screaming his frustration, said crook foolishly charges her
waiving his bag.  What's he going to do, hit her with his purse? 
With a lusty karate yell, Sailor Moon promptly lays him flat with
a boot to the head.  He skids across the polished marble floor to
impact solidly into a potted plant which falls over him and
covers him with dirt.  One shot and he's out of the fight. 
Sailor Moon, rather than saying a peppy speech and vanishing,
gives a haughty chuckle and stands over her vanquished foe.  This
isn't like her at all.
     The bank guards quickly recover and snap the cuffs on the
robber.  It's not long before the police arrive with requisite
news hounds in tow to haul the prisoner off to the hoosegow.  The
odd behavior continues with  Sailor Moon, in a break with all her
past behavior, lingers to soak up a bit of the media attention. 
That's odd; Usually the Senshi avoid the spotlight.  She makes
damn sure that she's prominently in the picture when the T.V.
crews film the robber being loaded into the police van.  When
they are done with that, she ignores the reporter's questions and
leaves with that slightly contemptuous smile still on her face. 
I want to try and follow her but Sakurada is so shaken by the
whole thing, she's got my arm in a death grip.  A few quick
bounds and Sailor Moon is out of sight.
     The rest of this little scene is rather anticlimactic. 
After taking our names and addresses the cops let all the
customers go about their business saying they may be brought in
for questioning later if necessary.  With the bank cameras and
the employees as witnesses, that's highly unlikely.  Sakurada
retains her hold on my arm as we walk away.
     "Robert," she says when we are out of earshot, "I can't
believe you were going to take on that robber like that."
     I'm about to modestly dismiss her compliments on my bravery
when she continues, "I mean, are you insane?  He had a gun!  He
could have killed you."
     I manage to keep a somewhat diminished smile on my face and
say, "Er . . .  I think you're overstating the danger a bit."
     "A bit?!"  She exclaims, "A shotgun blast is no danger?"
     "He was only using bird shot," I explain, "That wouldn't
have caused much damage even if he hit point blank."
     "Maybe you don't think so, but what if he missed you and hit
someone else?"
     "Ah . . . "
     "I mean, really!"  She says a bit peeved, "Risking your own
life is one thing but . . . "
     "I was reacting to a situation the way I thought best," I
say defensively.
     She considers that for a moment and then says, "Ah!  Now I
understand.  You were in your element and acting accordingly."
     Thinking she is speaking about my stint in the service I
start to agree, "yes I . . . "
     "After all," she continues before I add my two cents,
"you're from America.  This sort of thing happens all the time. 
Why if you were home, you'd have pulled out your own rod and
blown the robber away."
     "What!" I almost shout at her stereotyping Americans that
way, "I'll have you know that in America I haven't seen so much .
. . "  I trail off at the mirth that sparkles in Sakurada's eyes
as she adds, "you'd have said first, 'Go ahead, make my day.' 
Right?"  Mind you, the quotation was done in mangled English with
a Clint Eastwood voice so my surprised silence is understandable. 
I would hardly expect Sakurada to be a joker.  She laughs and
gives me a hug, "besides, you could have gotten yourself killed
you big goof and you owe me dinner."
     "I would not have," I protest.
     "Would so."
     "Would not."
     "Okay," she concedes, "You'd have been wounded then and I'd
still be out dinner."
     "Would not," I counter, "there's a McDonald's next to the
hospital."
     "What do I look like, a cheap date?"
     "To tell the truth, the way you threw yourself at me . . . "
     Whop!

     Dinner is nice.  Sakurada has a wry sense of humor that I
didn't expect.  Though a bit clingy, she has an independent
streak in her.  I ask her about her work, as a round about way of
quizzing her about Usagi and she launches into why she finds it
so rewarding: that special moment when you look into a kid's eyes
after teaching them something and you see fire: that instant when
you know that they've got it.  I find the thought profound.
     I manage to steer the conversation to boys in general and
how some of my students are so boy-crazy they are driven to
distraction.  I ask if there are any like that in her class. 
Instead of being able to steer the topic into Usagi, Sakurada
relates how a lot of her girls are caught up in idol worship of
this Tuxedo Kamen character.  That was fueled by the entire lot
of them getting a letter from him some months ago.  Now, rumors
of his exploits are what a lot of them talk about even though he
hasn't been seen much.  That and all the Sailor V stories prove
to be quite a distraction.
     "Sailor V?"  I ask.  I know exactly whom she's speaking of,
a mysterious girl who fights crime in England dressed in a mask
and a sailor fuku.  That's probably Venus; what she's doing there
I can only guess at.  The fight is here in Tokyo.  Maybe she's
looking for the Moon princess that Luna mentioned.  I wonder if
Usagi has let something slip about her.  Sadly I find out little
else, other than Sakurada was a bit disappointed in not getting a
note from Tuxedo Kamen herself.

     If I thought the start of this evening was strange, I'm
completely blown away by what comes next.  More astounding to me
than the events at the bank are what's on display at the art
gallery: the paintings of Yumeno Yumemi.
     The scenes are obviously from the Moon Kingdom.  Here or
there is an anachronism or two but the scenes are all drawn from
the reality of ten thousand years ago.  The domes and spires of
Dayelana Muila, the Moon Capitol, rise above the landscape with
the Earth in the sky.  Everything, from the costumes to the
palace interiors are captured in her works.  Sakurada makes
occasional comments but I'm so caught up in the scenes I give
mostly monosyllabic answers.  She jokes about me having a
sensitive side and I agree.  She says something about borrowing
my credit card and running it to the limit and I agree.  She
sighs and says she's going to the ladies room and I agree.
     She wanders away just as I come to a scene showing the
palace as viewed from the harbor.  The still waters of the sea of
Serenity reflect the city like a mirror.  I know the spot from
which this could be seen; I've been there before.  There's only
one thing wrong with the depiction and I frown in disapproval.
     "Excuse me," a shy voice says from slightly to my right.  I
look over and see a pleasant looking young woman in her early
twenties with big glasses and her hair done up in a long braid
standing next to me.  "I hope you don't mind," she says, "I was
watching you examine my paintings and was interested in your
reactions."
     "Oh," I say, "you're the artist?"
     "Yes, I'm Yumeno Yumemi."
     I look at her closely to see if I might have known her
during my first life.  No, I just can't place her among the
people I was acquainted with on the Moon.  Hardly surprising, my
own current incarnation doesn't look much like my original body
except for the hair and eye color.
     "I noticed that you liked... well, were entranced, by most
of my work here," she says, "but disapproved of what you saw in
that painting.  Why?"
     I hesitate to reveal that I know anything about the scenes
she's painted but then I shrug.  What could it hurt to tell?  I
look back at the picture and point to the sky above the palace. 
"These," I say indicating three dirigibles floating in the air,
"they weren't blimps.  They were sky galleons."
     She looks at the picture for a moment and squints as she
imagines my suggestion.  I can almost see the wheels turning in
her head as she thinks about what I've said.  Then she exclaims,
"Yes!  That's it!"  She turns to me, grabs my arm excitedly and
says, "please, tell me how you know this."
     Startled by her reaction, I blurt out, "I . . .  I've seen
it in a dream."  There, that allows me some room to be vague.  I
certainly don't want to go into the Trenchcoat mask deal but
something makes me want to be honest with this woman.  If nothing
else, I desire to help her paint a memory of the Silver
Millennium.
     "How do you remember them?"  She presses, "The sky ships,
that is.  Please describe it to me exactly how you saw them."
     The ships, at the very least, are the things I want her to
get right.  I point to the squat brown blimps on the picture and
say, "those should be sky galleons, sturdy ships of the line with
many guns.  Heavy, stout hulls . . .  "
     "Yes," she says eagerly.
     "While that one," I say indicating a slender white zeppelin,
"would be a lunar sky clipper.  It is a ship that is slim and
many masted.  All of them should be flying ships with their sails
unfurled to the solar wind."
     Yumemi closes her eyes as she fully imagines the scene and
smiles rapturously.  "Yes," she sighs, "that's it exactly." 
She's so taken with the revelation that if she were not clinging
to my arm, she'd likely fall over.
     "Excuse me, Robert," Sakurada says returning from the ladies
room at the most inopportune moment possible, "but who is this
woman?"
     "Oh, heh, Sakurada," I say sheepishly seeing how she eyes
the woman clinging to my arm, "let me introduce the artist whose
work is on display here, Yumeno Yumemi."
     Yumemi comes down from her epiphany a bit and lets go of my
arm.  She says to Sakurada almost dreamily, "your husband was
just set me straight on something that's always bothered me about
some of my paintings."
     "Husband?"  Sakurada giggles and then corrects her, "no,
we're not married."
     Yumemi considers that for a second and says, "Well, just so
long as you love each other I guess it's all right.  After all,
it is the nineties."
     "What?" I sputter, "were not . . . "
     "We're just out on a date," Sakurada giggles.  Changing the
subject before I can get properly outraged, she says, "how did
Robert set you straight?"
     "He pointed out that the blimps in some of my paintings
should actually be sailing ships that fly in the sky," Yumemi
says pointing to the blimps on the painting, "I knew that there
should be something large in the sky there but I could never
picture exactly what.  I say your hus . . .  er, Robert here,
frown at them and asked him why."
     Sakurada looks at me surprised.  "What?" I ask a bit
testily, "like I don't have any imagination?"
     "No," she answers, "I'm just seeing a lot of sides to you I
never imagined."
     "True, I'm very deep," I sniff.  Sakurada and Yumemi both
sort of chuckle at that.
     "What else of this place have you seen?" Yumemi asks giving
an all inclusive gesture to her works.
     Deciding to try a little experiment to find out who this
young woman might have been in the Moon Kingdom, I point to
Sakurada and say, "In my dreams, I've seen her."  Sakurada gasps
and looks a little embarrassed that she's the focus of attention. 
I continue, "She's sitting at a table in a huge library; books
line the wall.  A quill pen is in her hand as she makes notes on
several sheets of parchment.  On the table is a candle held in an
ornate holder engraved with crescent moons.  Behind her is a
large globe on a stand and beyond that is an open window to a
night sky complete with a large crescent.  The thing is, the
globe is not of Earth and the crescent in the sky is not the
Moon."
     Yumemi looks speculatively at Sakurada who is a bit
uncomfortable at my pronouncement.  That actually was a scene I'd
seen at the Lunar court when I accompanied the prince.  However,
only a few people would have been privy to such intimate views. 
One of them was a very famous painter by the name of L'ne Leni,
who, in her time, did many portraits for the Lunar royal family. 
I very much doubt that Sakurada is a reincarnation of the Royal
Lunar librarian from the scene I described, though.  After all,
the Lunar Librarian was a bald old man who smelled of cabbage.
     "Robert," Sakurada says hesitantly, "I don't think . . . "
     "I see it!" Yumemi exclaims, "I see exactly what you're
talking about!  I know exactly what I want to paint"  She plucks
at Sakurada's sleeve and asks, "would you please pose for me?"
     Sakurada is overwhelmingly flattered. "Me?" she asks, "Pose
for a Yumeno Yumemi portrait?"  She gets all starry eyed and
exclaims, "I'd love to!"
     "Good," Yumemi says handing a card to Sakurada, "could you
call me so you and your hus . . .  boyfriend could come to my
studio that is convenient for both of you?"
     Wait a minute, I think, Both of us?
     "So you can sit," she continues smoothly, "and he can
describe the scene for me."  She smiles at me benignly but I see
something calculating behind those eyes.  "Oh, while you are
there," she says, "would you mind looking at a few other
paintings that have me a little bothered?  You know, small
details like those blimps."
     Why that manipulative little so-and-so!  She's using
Sakurada to get me over to critique her work.  I wonder how many
paintings are "a few."  My mouth drops open to reply negatively
when I see Sakurada's wide eyed girlish expression of hope and
anticipation.  I couldn't disappoint her.  "Whatever time in the
afternoon is good for Sakurada," I sigh.
     "Oh wonderful!"  Sakurada squeals in delight, "I was
thinking . . . "  I only half listen as they work out the
details.  What is it with me?  I always seem to wind up being
jerked around by women.

     After Yumemi shows us around a bit more, and pries a few
more suggestions out of me, we finally leave the gallery. 
Sakurada is surprised when I don't hail a taxi but instead lead
her over to a parking garage near the gallery.  When I explain my
plan to drive along the harbor she's pleasantly surprised.
  "That's really romantic of you," she says, "however the
national weather service said that it's going to rain."
  "What?"  I ask, "The WTMG Weatherman said that it was going to
be clear tonight."
  "The WTMG Weatherman?" She says, "you shouldn't rely on him. 
He never gets it right."
  "Uh oh," I say with more than a little foreboding.
     Just as I pull out of the garage, the first splatters of
rain fall on the windshield.  I thought that the drive would be
quiet and allow plenty of time for conversation but things go
horribly wrong.  Instead, the route along the harbor is windswept
and the rain blinding.  The wind rocks the car as we drive making
Sakurada grip the door handle with white knuckles.  She turns
quiet as the trip back to her apartment becomes a "doom ride."
     The capper is, the street near her apartment building is
blocked by high water and it's a good fifty yards to the
entrance.  Not expecting rain, I left my umbrella at home and I
don't think transforming to Trenchcoat Mask and using his would
be a good idea.  I park to where we can walk.  "Just a second," I
say, "I can get you to the door under cover of my coat."
  "Do you want to come inside for a cup of coffee?" she asks. 
>From her guileless expression, she probably really means coffee.
     I consider it for a moment but I'd like to see if I can
trace "Sailor Moon" before the trail is too old.  "No, I've got
to get back before it gets too late."
  "Oh, well, don't get out," She says placing her hand on my arm. 
Reaching into the back seat and taking my hat, she adds, "If it's
all right with you, I'll just borrow this to keep my hair dry. 
Okay?"
  "Uh, sure . . . " I say.
  "I had a lovely time," she says, "I'll see you at Yumemi's,
later. Okay?"
  "I'm looking forward to it."
     She gives me a peck on the cheek and says bye.  Quickly, she
opens the door and dashes for the awning over the apartment house
entrance.  Once there, she waves goodbye.  Then I realize what
she just did: by taking my hat, she virtually insures I'll call
her back.  My fedora is being held hostage for a second date!  I
wave goodbye with a wooden smile on my face as I drive away. 
What did I say about being manipulated by women?

     Deciding to make use of the rest of the evening, I return to
the bank.  Parking the car, I transform into Trenchcoat Mask and
break out the Dark Kingdom Energy Detector.  Almost immediately,
I get some trace readings from "Sailor Moon."  Following the
trail, I eventually wind up on the rooftop of a warehouse near
the harbor.  The trail stops here but I get a slightly stronger
reading at the heart of the building.  A quick glance in a
skylight shows the place to be empty.  Retreating to a rooftop
across the street, I decide to sake out the place and wait for a
while.  The rain continues to pour down.
     "Well, this just sucks," I mutter darkly.  And I don't mean
the weather although that sucks too.  The rain picks up and falls
in cold, hard sheets with the occasional wrath-of-god stroke of
lightning to underscore just exactly how displeased someone up
there is with someone down here (given my current situation it's
probably me).
     After sitting there for a while, my energy detector
registers a surge.  I adjust the controls a bit and am able to
track a flow of energy that streaks off in a northerly direction:
the wake of a redirected teleport.  I smile like the cat that ate
the canary.  Jackpot!  The Dark Kingdom is this using as an
intermediary gate point.  If I can find out the target of that
streak, I might be able to pinpoint where the main gate into this
dimension is.  With that knowledge, perhaps I can get hold of a
few sticks of dynamite, say a truck load, and send Beryl a little
present.  I've just got to catch them using it again.  It looks
like my luck has changed.
     All I've got to do is just stand here and gather a little
more data.  Man!  It's really coming down tonight.  It's not a
fit night out for man nor beast.  Still, the weather's merely an
inconvenience.  I find a sheltered spot and stand there with my
trusty umbrella open.  That and my trenchcoat are keeping me nice
and dry.  Throw in my enhanced toughness and the whole deal is
actually making me a little drowsy.  It's a good thing I've got a
big thermos of coffee in my pocket.  The stakeout gives me time
to ruminate on things.
     What sucks is the strategic situation I find myself in.  The
Dark Kingdom is apparently trying to gather the seven shards of
the Ginzuishou, no doubt to free the seven shadows and use the
crystal to win free of their banishment.  I'm opposing them along
with the Senshi but they're all reincarnated as fourteen-year-old
school girls: innocent, big-eyed, boy chasing schoolgirls.  If
this had been during Silver Millennium times, their age would be
a different story as you grew up pretty fast back in the old
days.  (Of course, life expectancy was about fifty back then too
but that's besides the point.)  Still, the lot of them are mere
lambs when what the world needs are tigers.
     To top it all off, their leader is Tsukino Usagi, the worst
of the lot.  A girl struggling with long division is Sailor Moon
"Champion of Justice."  Sigh.  Still, I must admit I'm impressed
that Queen Serenity kept an extra Senshi hidden for use at this
time.  Having a "Sailor Moon" around brings the old girl up
another couple of notches in my estimation.  Now, if only her
reincarnation spell had kicked in about five years earlier . . .  
It's curious that Sailor Moon doesn't know who the Moon Princess
is.  You'd think at least she'd be able to find the princess that
Luna is looking for.  I shake my head as I come back to the
present and look over the warehouse.
     There are some suspicious characters arriving and hanging
around outside it but I don't think they're youma.  They're too
discomforted by the rain to be otherworldy.  Some go inside but
most spread out around the outside.  Interesting . . .  it looks
like they're up to no good.  Imagine, getting caught up in two
illegal capers in one day.  What are the odds?  Those guys are of
little concern at the moment, though.
     No, I've got to remember that the fake Sailor Moon that
stopped a bank robbery today is the focus of my investigation. 
Is there any doubt that this Sailor Moon is a fake?  No, the
"Sailor Moon" at the bank was cool, confidant and professional
and Ms. Tsukino was definitely stuck after school with detention
for failing geography at the time.
     Arg!  How can the fate of the world rest with this ditz?  If
only I knew who the prince really was we could confer on what to
do.  He must have some sort of plan or else why would he be
gathering the shards and not sharing them with the Senshi?  Maybe
I'll have to start tailing the Senshi and ask him when he shows
up.  The trouble is, which Senshi do I follow?  Ami, Rei, Makoto
or Usagi?
     After I learned Sailor Moon's true identity, it was a simple
matter to figure out who the others were; I just watched who she
hung out with in civilian life.  Ami is Mercury, Rei is Mars,
Makoto is Jupiter.  Odd, Senshi Venus has yet to appear.  I was
disturbed to hear Sailor V had apparently been killed in an
explosion on her last mission.  No body was found, so I hold out
hope that she somehow survived.  Strange, Dark Lord Calcite
closed up shop once and for all then too.
     Just as I'm thinking that, in another display of this
place's penchant for astronomical coincidence, she lands right in
front of me like a panther leaping from a tree.  I'm so startled
I almost cry out but I keep still and she doesn't notice me.  A
small white cat lands nearby and jumps to the top of the roof
retaining wall.  They survey the building across the street
looking for any signs of activity. She moves with the grace of a
dancer and the athleticism of a gymnast.  I suppose that her
arrival here was inevitable.  I really had hoped to avoid running
into her, though.
     The pouring rain plasters her hair and clothes to her body,
showing that it is unmistakably her.  Even in this incarnation,
her form is the same as it was then though she's still young. 
It's been ten thousand years, but she is still as beautiful as
when I first saw her.  My breath escapes my lips and I softly
sigh her name, "Venus . . . "
     Despite the drumming of the rain on the roof, she hears my
sigh and whips around and drops into a crouch with her finger
extended like a gun.  She as an edge to her that is harder and
more professional than the others.  I guess the time she spent on
her own as toughened her up a bit.  Her extended finger traverses
an arc in front of her as though it were a deadly weapon; As she
is a Senshi, it most certainly is.  "Who's there?"  She demands
loudly.  At last she picks my silhouette from the shadows and
points at me.  "I'm a deadly shot with this," she warns.
  "A friend of the Senshi," I say stepping out into the light. 
They pause for a moment as they take in my appearance.  I'm
dressed in the same outfit I was wearing the final night of the
Silver Millennium: Tuxedo, black silk mask, black trench-coat,
grey fedora and umbrella.  Standing there casually with an open
umbrella, I hardly look threatening so Venus lowers her deadly
index finger.
  "Tuxedo Mask?"  The cat asks getting a better look at me.
  "No," I say smiling disarmingly at the feline, "I'm an
associate of his.  Call me Trenchcoat Mask." The strange thing
is, this outfit was somehow created by the magic of the
Ginzuishou; I was actually wearing my naval uniform covered by
disguise magic that gave me the seeming appearance of this tuxedo
et.al.  When I awoke in this incarnation, the appearance was
given reality. Oddly, save for the bow tie, I find my appearance
reminiscent of Will Eisner's "The Spirit."
     "Venus . . . " I say again, coming back to the moment.
     "Ah, no I'm Sailor-V," she answers quickly.   She makes a
show of adjusting the little mask pasted to her face.  I can
almost see a big sweat drop forming on her brow like in some
anime. Yeah, right!  As if that little mask really covers up the
gold trimmed fuku.  I turn to the cat and say, "I've met Luna
here, but I didn't know you were around, Artemis."  The cat
sweatdrops too and flails his front legs in surprise that I know
his name.  He quickly recovers, however and asks, "who are you
and how do you know about us?  What are you doing here?  How do
we know you're not on the Dark Kingdom's side?"

     Hm, these two are a bit more polished at this game than the
others.  They are a lot more suspicious of me than the rest of
the Senshi were.  I'll have to watch what I say.  Stepping up to
the roof's edge, I glance down at the street.  Nobody is in
sight; the shady types have all sought shelter from the storm.  I
guess even servants of the forces of evil don't like to get wet. 
I turn back to Venus and Artemis and say, "First, if I were on
Beryl's side, I would have blasted you from the shadows.  Second,
I've been watching this building;  I think it's the headquarters
of that fake Sailor Moon that's been running around.  Third, the
best place to observe is over by that air conditioning unit I was
standing next to.  We can discuss things there."  They hesitate
for a moment and I hint at our exposed position, "It's also
harder to be spotted in its shadow."  After a glance around, I
walk back to my spot leaving the two of them standing there. 
Venus and the cat murmur a few words back and forth before they
join me.
     I also picked this spot because it provides some protection
against the driving rain, though with my hat, coat and umbrella,
I'm nice and dry.  Venus and her cat, on the other hand, are
completely soaked.  My heart races as she stands close to me
under my umbrella.  Damn, damn, damn, a flood of old feelings
come back to me from my first lifetime in the Silver Millennium. 
I want to offer her my heart but instead I reach into the pocket
of my trench-coat and say, "Towel?"
     Venus looks amazed at the huge, dry bath towel I have pulled
out of my pocket literally by magic.  With a laugh that is like
music she takes it and begins to pat herself dry.  Artemis is
vainly trying to take shelter under the umbrella but, he's still
getting splattered by the falling rain.  "Hey Arty," I say in a
friendly tone.  When he looks up at me, I pat my shoulder
inviting him to alight there.  He hesitates for a second at my
familiarity when a big drop of rain hits him in the ear.  He
winces and shakes his head to get the water out and then leaps
atop my shoulder to get out of the rain.  "Thanks," he says
shaking each paw to get the water off them.  Venus then throws
the towel over him and affectionately rubs him dry.
     "Mmmph!  Okay, that's enough," the cat says trying to
restore some formality to this whole situation, "What do you
think is going on here?"
  "The Sailor Moon that stopped the bank robbery today is a fake. 
She's making a visible presence of herself to invite the Senshi
to follow her; Most likely she's trying to lure them into a trap. 
It's kind'a stupid, but it will probably draw the sailor Senshi
out.  If for no other reason, they'll come out of curiosity as to
whom this new Sailor Moon is.  The Senshi are searching for the
moon princess and they'll probably think this is a lead."
  "You sound like you know them pretty well," Venus says
observantly.  The Venusians were sensitive that way to what
people said and how they said it.
  "I did, a long time ago," I say, "I knew a lot of people who
changed," I say looking into her eyes.  She shows no hint of
recognition.  I don't know if it's the disguise magic or if her
memory is veiled by her reincarnation.  In either case, she
doesn't know me; All in all, that's just as well, I suppose.
  "How do you know I'm not the moon princess?" Venus asks
playfully striking a regal pose.  Since my quest of the rainbow
shards may put me at cross purposes with the Senshi I don't want
to reveal anything about myself but perhaps an air of
omnipresence is in order.
  I keep my voice neutral when I say, "Because I know you,
Venus."
  Giving up on her ruse, she takes off her mask and looks me in
the eye and asks soberly, "what do you know about me?"
     Thinking back to the time long ago when she told me 'no', I
want to say 'A lot less than I thought.'  But instead I say, "I
don't know who the Moon Princess is, but I do know who she's not. 
And you, Senshi Venus, are a princess but not of the Moon."
     I look off into the storm; if anything, the rain has gotten
worse.  I look at her through the corner of my eye and part of
Ferrite wants to beg her to take him back.  Whatever it was that
made her refuse his proposal and tell him to go away, he'll beg,
borrow, or steal to make right.  Maybe telling her about herself
will bring back some of the feelings he knew she felt for him. 
Or maybe it will bring back memories of the reason that she left
him that she never explained.  Before I leap into the void,
however, I reach into my pocket again.
     "Coffee?"  I ask, producing a large thermos from my
trenchcoat pocket.
  She laughs again as she takes it and asks, "how can you stuff
so much in your pockets?"
  Her hand brushes across mine (accidentally?), making my heart
flutter.  "Why, by magic," I reply suavely producing a plastic
bag with several items in it.  "Cream and sugar?"
  "Uh, Say," Artemis says eying the cream, "if you could spare
one of those . . . "
  "Sure Artie," I reply tearing off the cover of one with my
teeth and holding the little cup up to the cat on my shoulder. 
Eagerly, the cat laps at the contents.
  Venus opens the thermos and sniffs the hot, steaming liquid. 
Delightedly she pours a cup and replaces the cap.  She holds the
cup before her nose sort of like Artemis and the cream.  "Mmmmh,
French Vanilla," she says inhaling the aroma, "my favorite. 
You're a man after my own heart."
  "Sh . . .  Sh . . .  Sugar?"  I stammer.
  "Yes dear?"  She jokes flirtatiously.
  I feel like a sledge hammer hit me in the chest.  I cover it by
putting an exasperated face on and say, "Funny, do you want some
. . .  a packet of sugar?"
  "Yes," she smiles and her eyes scrunch closed in the cute way
they did ten thousand years ago.
     "Artie," I address the cat, "hold this steady."  I put the
cream container on my shoulder and Artemis keeps it from moving
with his front two paws.  His nose stays buried in the cup and he
emits a deep, satisfied purr.  What follows is something almost
out a comedy.  With only one hand free between us, my left holds
the umbrella, we try and open the paper packet of sugar without
spilling the coffee or dropping the thermos with a cat perched on
my shoulder.  Finally we figure it out, she hands me the coffee,
I hand her the sugar, she puts the thermos under one arm, tears
open the packet, pours it into the cup I hold and takes the cup
back from me.  Artemis gives a couple of contented smacks and
licks his lips. "So, *hic*," he begins, "what led you to this
warehouse on the docks?"
     Somehow freeing up my hand again, I pull my detector from
under my coat.  I notice Venus subtly shifts her stance to dash
the coffee in my face and sock me if I point what looks like a
death ray at her.  "Relax," I say, "it's just a plastic toy I use
to house the circuits I made.  See?  It even says 'demise-o-ray'
on the side."
     "Oh," she says, "I knew that."
     "Yeah," I agree dubiously.  I point it at the building and
take a reading.  I've been working on it in my spare time and
I've really got it fancy now.  The little LCD tv screen shows the
outline of the building with a dull spot indicating a little
residual energy from the faux Sailor Moon's dimensional gate. 
She's visibly impressed with it and asks, "can I try it?"
  "Sure," I say handing it over, "It's fairly sturdy, just don't
drop it.  To use it, point it and pull the trigger.  It detects
Dark Kingdom energy emissions."
  "Cool," she says examining it with childish wonder.  She points
it at the building and looks at the display.  With a slight grin,
she points it at me and Artemis and checks us for Dark Kingdom
energy.  Satisfied that neither of us is actually a youma she
says, "what do these knobs do?"
     "They just adjust the sensitivity and screen brightness,
reduce background noise . . .  that sort of stuff."  The controls
are completely innocuous but suddenly I'm seized with a feeling
of impending disaster.  "Oh, no," the cat says hiding his eyes in
his paws.
     With machinelike rapidity, she twiddles the knobs, takes a
reading, adjusts them again, takes a reading again, does some
more adjustments and my detector blows up.  I goggle in utter
amazement.  How did she do that?  The thing is powered by four
'D' batteries and she somehow made it literally explode.
     "Heh!  Sorry," she says handing the smouldering wreck back
to me and sweating in embarrassment.  I look at my ruined
detector in dismay but breathe a sigh of relief when I see that
the Dark Kingdom Simms are still intact.  Everything else I can
replace or repair, those things are one of a kind.  I just look
at her and put the detector in my pocket.
     Before I can say anything, a truck pulls up to the warehouse
and honks his horn.  The door opens and the truck drives inside. 
Hm, looks like they were eagerly anticipating his arrival. "Now
who would be moving cargo at two in the morning in the driving
rain?"  I ask.  I stop for a moment and think out loud, "This is
just way too busy for the Dark Kingdom.  They don't depend on
humans to do their dirty work; They use youma for that.  The
detector certainly would have revealed their true nature at this
range.  Humph, it is apparent that the fake Sailor Moon was just
using this place for a way station.  These shady characters must
be up to something else completely unrelated.  For tonight, this
looks like a dead end.  I guess more detective work is in order."
  "You're right," she says looking at the warehouse, "it must be
smugglers or something.  Let's go investigate!"  Before I can say
anything, she dashes off and leaps to the rooftop across the
street.
  "Why not just call the cops?"  I ask the cat on my shoulder.
  I look for sympathy from a fellow male and he says, "She's kind
of impulsive that way."  He jumps down and goes after her.
  "Same as it ever was," I say with a sigh.  Even in the Silver
Millennium she was a bit of a free spirit.  It only takes me a
minute to pull out my cellular phone and dial the police.  I
report sighting some men with guns and hang up before the cops
can get a number.  There, that ought to get the police here in
short order.  I close the umbrella and jump across to the other
roof.  As I leap, I remember how I fell into her life . . . 


                         *    *    *

     It was originally known as the High Lunar Assembly of Feline
Advisors but it was quickly dubbed, "The Conference of Cats." 
All the enchanted Moon cats from all the worlds across the solar
system (and their human escorts and additional sundry, planetary
representatives) were in attendance.  Even the Nemesian Moon cat
(in exile), Rudra, was here with princess (in exile) Valerie. 
Serenity gave the reason for the assembly as necessary to unify
the Moon cat language but most of us knew better.  By bringing
the cats and, by extension, their human compatriots together, it
was hoped that further dialogues would be started.  In short, the
unspoken reason was to capitalize on the good feeling that was
currently between the planets.
     Several events of late went a long way to promoting this
harmony: First, Terra acquitted herself well in her dealings with
Jupiter causing the other planets to feel less hostile toward
Mother Earth (the trials of several crooked merchants who
overstated their grain shipments showed us to be completely
honorable).  Second, the Mercurians and Venusians settled their
differences over some warrens on Mercury that Venusian merchants
(accidentally) found.  An agreement was reached to share whatever
was found there in exchange for a steady allotment of Venusian
fruits and grains.  Terra made it absolutely plain that she'd
back the Mercurians completely so the Venusians figured half a
loaf was better than none.  Finally, the Saturnians and Martians
laid out the Laws of High Space and Conduct treaty that all the
other worlds were signatory to (it limits Terran hegemony but we
now have a standard, enforceable high space laws which we can use
to bring rogue asteroid kingdoms in line).
     Except for the barely contained hostilities between the
human Terran and usurper Nemesian representatives, it was a
delightful party.  Odd as it sounds, Serenity felt if all the
cats could be brought together to discuss matters, then the
humans they advised might do so as well.  At the very least, it
opened a line of communication between the worlds via their
feline companions.  It could be a vital link between nations, if
an unorthodox one.  The thing is, it worked.  People, as well as
cats, were talking with each other.
     It was while I was there as representative of Earth (all the
rest of the Guardians were tied up chasing after Beryl) that I
noticed something interesting: The cats, though interested in
their human charge's politics, are almost completely detached
from them.  In their centuries long life spans have seen many
kings and queens come and go and take it all much less seriously
than we do.  Puck, for instance, seemed more interested in
chasing after Phoebe, the Mercurian Moon cat, than finding out
how the outer planets stood on the Terran-Nemesian feud.

     One thing that really underscored this was during an art
exhibition arranged for the conference.  "Cats from around the
system, art from around the system" was the grand title given to
the show by its Uranian organizers.  Among the pieces were a few
Mercurian sand works and some truly beautiful Lunar landscapes by
the Lunar artist L'ne Lennia (I even ran into said artist in the
library).
     What was odd was Apollo, the Uranian Moon cat, openly
sneered at some nudes by artists of his home world.  "I'm
surprised," I said, "you sound a bit reactionary, Apollo.  I'd
think that a native of your world would be a bit less prudish."
  "Bah," he said, "it's just a bunch of naked people.  Take this
one," he said indicating a particular painting.  It was of a nude
man holding a glove.  "What do you think it means?" he asked.
     It's a good thing they made me go to finishing school when I
became a Guardian.  My first thought was to say, "it's some naked
guy with a glove."  Instead I draw on the training in fine arts
and reply, "Well, I would guess it is a statement of how we are
separated in our lives by various barriers: emotional,
communicational and physical.  The glove is symbolic of this
separation; note how he holds it tightly in his fist as if to
crush it?  His nudity is the artist expressing an attempt to get
beyond those barriers."
     I look expectantly at the cat who sat quietly through my
explanation.  His tail twitches a few times and he says, "Wrong. 
It's some naked guy with a glove."  I almost facefault but he
continues, "I know, I was there when it was painted.  The glove
happened to be the laying in the studio and the painter asked the
model to get it out of the way.  When he started to toss it
aside, the artist told him to hold the pose and began painting. 
He just left it in out of laziness."
     The cat harrumphs in disgust as he paces a bit.  "Where's
the romance, the passion, the fire?"  He asks.  Not waiting for
an answer, the cat sniffs disdainfully and says, "This was just
done for shock value by some fatuous poser without half the
talent of a sign painter.  If you really want to see good art,
look at the Jovian Murals or Martian abstracts, even the Terran
realists have more drive and passion.  Give me art from a planet
where there's some struggle any day.  Too much of the Uranian
stuff is done just to disturb and offend, not push boundaries. 
Why, I've seen this sort of stuff again and again, ad nauseam. 
I'd say it comes from having the mother Shell of Uranus provide
so much for you that makes them so . . .  intellectually lazy."
  "So it really is just some naked guy with a glove?" I ask.
  "Yes," the cat affirms.
  "Bother," I say, "I rather liked my explanation better."

     The conference went on in this vein for a week with the cats
treating it a lot more like a party and family reunion.  It was
the humans who put the serious tone to otherwise light
proceedings.  It achieved its goal, though.  A lot of tension
between the worlds was released.  Overtures were even made by the
Nemesians that they *might* allow the exiles to return (though
without any of their old offices or lands).  In the spirit of the
conference our response: "Not only no, but Hell no" was tempered
to: "The Nemesian delegation states an interesting opening
position."  With that sour note of almost-on-the-road-to-not-shooting-at-them,
the conference drew to a close.

     The official meetings were breaking up and the delegates
were saying their goodbyes.  It was at this time I managed to
corner Hope, the elder Senshi Mercury in a sitting room for a
serious discussion.  Since there were no official functions she
had to attend to today, she was dressed in a long, blue peasant
dress with a white central panel.  With the silver embroidery she
hardly looks like a peasant, though.  Her long blue hair is held
in place by a thin silver diadem making her look restrained and
elegant.  Her mood like most attendees of the conference, is high
bringing a slight blush to her cheeks.  She looks lovely.
     Up until now she'd managed to distract me by changing the
subject and . . . ahem, other methods.  I'd had enough, however,
and I launched into my prepared speech as to why she and I should
make an announcement similar to the one Nephrite and Juno had
some months back declaring their intentions to marry.  She, of
course, liked things as they were with both of us "free of
entanglements" and tried to distract me again.  I'd had just
about enough, however.
  "Woman, why do you keep me at arms length like this?"  I asked
in exasperation, "you're starting to make me believe that this
Beryl curse nonsense is real."
  "It's a practical matter, Ferrite," she said, "we're away from
each other for too much of the time for us to even consider
getting serious."
  "But things won't be that way forever."
  "No, but that's the way things are now.  Please, be practical
about this."
  "Practical, practical," I mimic, "with you, that's almost a
mantra."
  "Mercurians tend to be that way," she says.
  "It's because my family isn't as high born as yours, isn't it?"
  "Oh, don't be silly," she sighs in mild exasperation,
"Mercurians hardly even think about things that way.  We're a lot
more open minded than the rest of you . . .  the rest of the
solar system."
  "You were about to say "you Terrans" weren't you?"
  "Ferrite, why must you complicate things by pushing so?  Can't
you just enjoy our times together the way I do?"
  "No, I want more times together, that's why I want to make it
official.  When I see the way Juno and Nephrite are, I know I
want that for us."
  "Please Ferrite, can't we discuss this later?"
  "Later," I sigh, "it's always later with you.  Well, I'm not
going to be around for very long."
  "What do you mean?"  She asks taken aback by my words.
  "I have been suddenly called to ferry the Venusian Moon cat,
Artemis, back to Venus."
  "Oh," she says in relief, "you mean you're not going to be
around for very long *today*."
  "Yes," I answer, "for now I mean today."   I let that subject
drop and explain my change in travel plans, "The ship that was to
take the Venusian delegation was damaged in a storm before it
even left Venus.  In the spirit of the new harmony and accord,
the H.M.S. Nemesis is to carry the cat and the rest of them back
to Venus as we start our inner planets patrol."
  "So I'll be seeing you again in about six months?"  She asks.
  "Maybe, It could be longer."
  "I don't mind waiting," she says.
  "I do," I reply.  And I'm not talking about the cruise, I
think.  Damn it!  Her detachment makes me want to push her away
for being so cold and take her in my arms to convince her to act
otherwise, both at the same time.
  "Oh, don't pout like a little boy, Ferrite," she teases, "when
you're a few years older you'll be a lot more patient."
     A few years, hah!  To look at us you'd think I was the elder
one.  I received my Guardian post later in my life than she did
her Senshi position; consequently, I aged while she marked time. 
She appears to be in her late teens while I look like I'm about
twenty-five.  In reality, she's forty-eight and I'm thirty-two. 
The extra years haven't made her act more mature, though.  "Ah,
don't call me 'little boy,'" I say.
  "I'm sorry," she apologizes and asks, "how can I make it up to
you?"  She leans toward me, her long blue hair wreathing her
face.
  I kiss her and answer, "see me off now?"
  "I'll really miss you," she says.
  I'm about to say something else but instead sigh, "and I'll
miss you too."
     We get up and step out into the hall.   Just as we do, a
grey striped kitten comes running around the corner.  It's
Nermal, Phoebe and Puck's offspring; he's a second generation
Moon cat that was currently living with his mother on Mercury. 
>From what I know about him, he's inherited his sire's taste in
practical jokes.  "Quick, hide me," the breathless kitten begs. 
Since such little favors granted could reap big rewards later, I
scoop him up and stuff him into the pocket of my greatcoat.
     Just as I do, Aries, the ill-tempered Martian Moon cat comes
charging around the corner.  Or at least I think it's Aries, it's
kind of hard to tell as he is soaked to the skin with something
which makes him look very scrawny.  He pauses at the T-intersection
that we are in and glances both ways, angrily
searching for the kitten.  As he pauses, a puddle of milk forms
at his feet; apparently, that's what he's soaked with.
  "He went that way," Hope volunteers.
The cat grunts something unintelligible and runs off the way she
pointed, dripping a trail of milk.
  After he's gone, the kitten pops his head out of my pocket and
says, "Thanks Lady Mercury, Aries just has no sense of humor."
  "What did you do to him," I ask, "push him into his dinner?"
  "No," the kitten answers innocently, "we were all having a nice
bowl of milk after discussing a few things and his bowl suddenly
exploded.  I suspect it was a metaphysical reflection of Aries'
volatile temper manifested in the real world physical objects."
  "Uh-huh," I say skeptically.
  "Say, this wouldn't happen to have anything to do with that
sample of sodium you begged me for would it?"  Hope asks.
  "Sodium?" I ask curiously.
  "Yes," she says, "one of our alchemists discovered there is a
metal that could be extracted from saltwater.  Nermal said it
would be of great interest at the conference."
  "And it will be," Nermal says, "but uh . . .  could I get
another piece from you, I seem to have misplaced the first one."
  "Sodium has some strange properties," she continues, "most
notably it explodes when immersed in water . . .  or milk."
  "Hmm," I say eyeing the kitten.
  "Metaphysics," the kitten protests, "it was all metaphysics, I
tell you."  With that, he jumps out of my pocket and goes the
opposite direction that Aries went.
     
     I turn back to Hope trying to be serious again but the
merriment in her eyes tells me the time for that is past today. 
"Well," I say, "I've got to leave for the harbor soon, will you
walk with me in the garden to see me off?"  "And welcome you when
you get back again," she says.  I sigh, and she takes my arm as
we walk toward the rose garden.  Perhaps under the earthlight and
surrounded by flowers, she'll think about things differently. 
The setting can be everything in romance.  Outside, it's a lovely
afternoon (it being the twentieth earth day in the twenty-seven
day lunar one) and the sun appears as a bright, silvery blue orb
it is when viewed from the Moon.  Before I can get serious again,
we come upon another two Moon cats in the garden, Artemis and
Selene.
     I'm supposed to meet Artemis at the docks but I guess I'll
just pick him up here.  It doesn't look like Hope is going to get
any more serious today.  We hail the cats and they acknowledge
us.
     "Oh," I say to the felines, "let me try and say something in
Mauan."  Mauan, is the native speech of cat kind, though the Moon
cats have a much more evolved form of it than the common cat;
that is what they usually speak amongst themselves for simple
matters.  Having been a far-speaker officer, I can appreciate
being able to communicate with someone in their native tongue; I
asked the Terran Moon cat, Puck, for a few phrases.  People (or
cats for that matter) just love it when you say "good day" in
their own language.
     In this case, it involves a bit more than voice as posture
plays an important role in the language.  I lean down on all
fours, tilt my head slightly and say, "Mrrrow, preeow, ow . . ." 
Selene bottles her tail and hisses at me.  Artemis' ears turn
bright pink as he blushes and looks at the floor in
embarrassment.    "Well, I never!"  Selene huffs and stalks
angrily away.
  "What tha'?" I say in puzzlement, "Puck said that was a
friendly, familiar greeting."
  I stand up and Artemis says, "well, it's familiar all right . .
. "
  "Wait a minute . . .  what does that mean?" I ask.  He looks at
Hope in embarrassment and leaps up on my shoulder.  He leans
close and whispers in my ear quietly.   "I want to lick what?!" 
I shout almost shaking him off.  "Ooh, that Puck!"  I rage, "I'll
get him for this if it's the last thing I do!"
     For a moment, I stalk back and forth doing a slow burn while
Artemis perches on my shoulder like a parrot.  He eyes me like I
was a bomb that could explode at any second.  Hope, on the other
hand, is tremendously amused by the whole thing and stifles a
giggle.  She looks at me seething, and finally guffaws loudly. 
Her laughter is infectious and eventually I find myself if not
laughing, at least not snarling.  I'm still gonna' get him for
that, though.
  "Putting all that aside," I say, "are you ready to embark on
our journey?"
  "Yes," the cat answers, "the rest of the delegation is already
on its way to your ship.  I was just saying a few goodbyes before
I joined them."
  "Coincidentally," I say, "so was I.  Will you join us in our
little walk?"  He nods and stays perched on my shoulder as we
three chat about the conference.
     As we walk among the rose bushes, we  round the corner and
see yet another two Moon cats sitting on the grass.  The first is
a sleek black cat and the other a huge, flabby green cat: Luna
and Red Battler.  (Where he gets that name, I don't know; he's
neither red nor much of a fighter.)  The large cat leans forward
and says something to Luna that I can't hear.
     Artemis apparently does because he immediately tenses up and
digs his claws into  my coat.  Taking a slight leap in deduction,
I whisper to the cat, "Uh oh, it looks like you have a rival."
  He visibly starts at my comment and stammers, "I'm . . . that
is . . . Luna and I are not . . ."
  "Come on," I say, "from the way you act, you've got it bad."
  "Well . . ." he trails off as he looks lovesick at Luna but
doesn't move.
     How odd, he's handing this the exact opposite the way a
Venusian would.  Someone from Venus is very straightforward about
their feelings.
     Impossible as it seems, Luna seems to visibly sweat and look
embarrassed.  "Really, that's very flattering, Red, but I'm
afraid I must be meeting with queen Serenity."  He leans closer
and meows something that doesn't translate but Artemis gets even
more agitated.  "Here, watch this," I whisper to the cat, "one
way to get rid of a rival is to distract him with another love."
  "Huh, what do you mean?  Is Arachne around?"  He asks meaning
the Jovian cat of ill repute.
  Ignoring his question I say, "Just watch."  We continue forward
down the path and Luna seems visibly relieved that she has a
distraction.
  "Oh, hello Artemis, Lady Mercury, Captain Ferrite.  How are you
this afternoon?"
  The others say their hellos and I answer, "Very well, Luna, we
were just on our way to the docks on the sea of Serenity.  I am
to be taking Artemis back to Venus."
  "Very nice," Red says, "well, don't hesitate on our account. 
Time and tide wait for no cat and all that rot.  Ta-ta."
  "Too bad we have to leave now too," I say, "they were just
starting to serve up some lovely Martian canal salmon in the west
conference room."
  "Salmon?" the big cat asks with great interest.
  "Yes," I say, "fresh off a Lunar ice clipper.  You know how
hard it is to find any of that outside of Mars; it's so good the
Martians hardly ever share it.  Too bad we didn't have time to
stay and partake of any.  Still, with all the others there, it
won't go to waste.  I imagine there won't be any left soon."
  "ExcusemeLunaIjustrememberedapressingengagement," The corpulent
feline says and dashes away so fast he leaves a dust cloud.  The
others sweatdrop at the lightning exit but I just smile.
  "Anyway," I say twitching Artemis off my shoulder, "Artemis
wanted to say his goodbyes to you Luna, in private."  I take
Hope's arm and say, "just as I wanted to do so myself."  We leave
the cats and when we step up the path a little way I say, "You
know, I really wish you would be a bit more serious about our
situation."
  "And I really wish you'd stop being so demanding," Hope
counters.
  "Fine," I say, "I'll maybe stop demanding all together."
  "Do you really mean that?" she asks.
  "No," I sigh, "but I don't like where we are."
  "Well wait," she says, "maybe I'll move if you're patient."
  "Okay," I say, "maybe I'll be patient.  Goodbye."  Not feeling
very romantic, I hug, but not kiss her goodbye.
     I meet up with the cat back at the gate and he's practically
floating.  Little hearts seem to glimmer in his eyes and he says,
"she promised to call me on the far-speaker later."
  "A call on the far-speaker?  That's it?"  I ask a little
sourly.
  "Hey, it's a start," the cat mutters.

     Before we leave Serenity, however, Roberval myself and my
officers must practice stasis tube procedures with Artemis. 
Whenever a Moon cat cat travels aboard any sky-ship, the feline's
survival is paramount.  To that end, we have an artifact of the
Ancients available: a stasis tube.  Anything placed within the
cylinder is suspended in time until the tube is opened again.  It
is the captain's responsibility to see that should disaster
occur, the Moon cat is placed safely in the tube above all else. 
Ships can be replaced; The Moon cats cannot.  After we run the
drill for the fifteenth time (just so even my junior officers
have performed the operation) Artemis is at the end of his
patience.  It's too bad I don't speak Avalonian, some of the
phases he was using sounded quite inventive.
     As for the trip out, we pass several merchantmen en route
only stopping to search one of them that looked suspicious.  The
Venusian merchant was very vociferous in protesting our search; I
wonder if he objects too much to the Terran navy's constant
presence deterring the pirates that occasionally pick off a
Venusian ship or two?  In any event, when we began our final
approach to the cloud shrouded world, it came time for my "When
on Venus" speech.  Most of the crew had heard it several times
over the years but it is always wise to underscore what is
expected of men (mostly young men) on shore leave.  When the crew
was assembled on deck and set at ease, I began.
     "Men," I say, "within the next six hours, we will be landing
on a planet much different from Earth.  Save for the poles, the
whole planet is wrapped in a thick blanket of clouds save for two
openings at the poles.  The shell of clouds that the Ancients
have made and the close proximity of the sun, makes the
temperature on Venus very hot."
     "When we land, light weight summer uniforms become the
standard dress for the extent of our stay though shirts-off is
allowed aboard ship.  Also, sudden, strong squalls and rainstorms
can come out of nowhere so be ready.  Whatever you're wearing is
going to get very wet unless you have your slicker on.  Anything,
and I do mean anything, that isn't watertight to begin with,
needs to be covered at all times."
     "Because of the heat and the fact that everything gets
soaked, the Venusians are a bit more lax in their standards of
dress than you and I are probably used to."  A few of the old
hands chuckled and nudged their fellows knowingly.  "The climate
and rain make most clothing on Venus is a bit excessive. 
Consequently, it is common for Venusians to dispense with it
entirely.  It is said you will see more skin on the main street
of the Venusian Capitol of Ephesos than in all the fleshpots of
Atlantis."
     "I expect you to look, after all, I was a young man once
myself."  That gets a chuckle as I appear to be about as young as
some of the newer recruits.  I continue, "The Venusians are a
beautiful people and are quite conscious of their appearance.  I
expect you to be courteous and complementary but not crude or
vulgar; you are men of the Terran Royal Navy and you shall act
accordingly.  The Venusians are also quite a bit more . . . 
sensuous than your average Terran."  There are a few rather
ribald comments at that statement but I let them pass.  When
things die down a bit I say, "Be that as it may, you are in no
way to interpret this state of affairs as an open invitation. 
Look but don't touch without being expressly invited.  Am I
clear?"
     "Aye sir!" They say in unison.
     "Rapists, of course," I add in a rather offhand manner,
"will be hanged."  That sobers them up rather quick.  "Anything
short of that is open to question," I allow, "as it might come
down to your word against hers.  As we are going to be in a
diplomatic role during our stay, having one of the men under my
command do something embarrassing will reflect rather badly on
me.  I could threaten lashings for lesser offenses but that would
be pointless.  Just to show you I am a fair man, though, the
punishment of the offender in some grey area not covered by naval
law will be decided by the fellow's shipmates . . . "  That
elicits a few smirks.  Which vanish when I add, "after I cancel
all shore leaves for the remainder of our cruise."
     "Now, here's a little Venusian law for the uninitiated: You
sire it, you marry her and support it."  The new men look around
at their shipmates for confirmation and they receive nods. I
continue, "Atkinson there can attest that our treaties with Venus
also provide that little law is covered.  Bye the bye, how is
your son, Atkinson?"
  "Very well sir," he answers.
  "And your daughter," I ask again.
  "She's fine as well, sir," he answers again.
  "And their mothers?"  I continue.
  "Heh," he says through slightly clenched teeth, "a bit
demanding but they're fine sir."
  "The paymaster is sure to send them their support before you
get the remainder, correct?"
  "Yes sir," he says.
  "What remainder?" one of his shipmates jeers.
  "It would be wise if you did not wind up 'married' again,
wouldn't it Atkinson?"
  "Yes sir, it would."
  "Would you say that the Venusians are very good at establishing
parentage, Atkinson?"
  "Yes sir, I would," he says and then mumbles something.
  "You speak up when talking to your captain!" Roberval snaps.
  "Aye sir!" Atkinson straightens up and belts out, "Relentless,
sir!"
  "I only ask," I continue ignoring his lapse, "because I am
concerned about the well being of my crew and their families."
  "That's very kind sir."
  "I wouldn't want to think one of the men under my command were
shirking their responsibilities."
  "No sir."
  "Good.  As we will be on patrol during Terran New Years, I have
decided to disburse a small bonus allotted in celebration of
Endymion's impending public announcement of his intention to seek
the hand of Princess Serena early so that you all might have a
chance to enjoy it."  That gets a few cheers for the captain. 
"Might I suggest," I say to Atkinson, "that you take it and buy
presents for your children and wives?"
  "Aye sir, good idea sir," he says.
  "Thank you for sharing your hard won lesson with the rest of
the crew," I say, "Allow me to throw in half a gold eagle for
your family in consideration for your cooperation in telling your
situation to the crew."
  "Thank you, sir.  Thank you very much," he says gratefully.  He
might actually have a bit left over for himself for a change.
  "Remember this," I say to the crew in general, "if you ever
find yourself thinking, ahem, wrong headedly.  Dismissed."
       As we approach the south pole of Venus, we are able to get a
cross sectional view of the cloud shell from the opening's rim. 
The shell is about a hundred fathoms thick at our end but it is
said that it forms a thicker layer at the equator.  How thick, no
one knows as plummets and measuring lines dropped into the cloud
shell are whipped away by the fierce winds.
     I was told by the scientists of Mercury that were it not for
the cloud shell, Venus would be an inferno covered by corrosive
gas.  The Ancients made the planet Venus habitable by extracting
these poisons and using them as a blanket to shield the world
from the sun's rays. Occasionally, the force that separates the
regular atmosphere and the cloud shell fails.  When it does,
insane winds form that can draw a ship up into the shell or fling
it to the ground.  It was just such a freak wind that damaged the
ship we replaced.
     "Fascinating," Roberval says as we pass near the shell. 
He's right: the winds swirl in a visible counter clockwise motion
from bottom to top.  The bands of gasses have just come from the
equatorial regions of Venus on the lower side of the shell where
they will return now as the top layer.
     The poles of Venus are entirely different that those of
Earth or Mars.  Rather than an icy waste, they are lush and
verdant forest.  Curious trees with parasol sized leaves cover
the ground.  What is so odd is that they all track the sun's slow
path along the horizon.  The view from a sky ship above displays
their red undersides which change to green as we pass over them. 
We look like we're riding a wave of green as we head to the
higher latitudes.  Finally, the sun is hidden by the cloud shell
and all we can see is a vague bright area instead of the familiar
yellow orb.
     Below us, the trees change from the high latitude parasol
trees into the vine-like, curly tanglewoods.  These fast growing
plants cover almost the entire surface of Venus.  The parasol
trees become fewer and fewer until all the only thing below us is
the wooly jungle.  There are few other natural boundaries but the
jungle effectively separates each of the many cities of Venus and
their surrounding villas much the same way the sea does for some
of the island kingdoms of Earth.  The difference here is that
most travel between cities is by sky ships.
     This isolation by the jungle has led to the Venusian
planetary government being a loose confederation of city states
united ostensibly under the House of Venus: the hereditary holder
of the Senshi powers and rulers of the Capitol city of Ephesos. 
As the individual city-states are of more or less equal power,
Ephesos doesn't have much authority.  Still, Senshi Venus has
enforced their edicts from time to time.
     As we traverse the globe, the clouds begin to thicken from
patchy mist into thick, muggy fog.  Eventually we enter the rain
belt that covers most of the planet.  The hot moist air wraps
around everything like a suffocating blanket.  Even at our great
altitude it's sweltering; soon all coats and jackets are off and
most of the crew quickly strips to the waist.  Little good it
will do them in this humidity.  Even I, despite my Guardian
constitution, am forced to make some concession to the heat by
removing my captain's hat.  Well, the humidity was giving the
plume an undignified wilt anyway.
     The mist is almost impenetrable: clouds completely obscure
the ground and we're forced to fly on instruments.  It is quite
disturbing to rely on compass, sextant, chronometer and far-speaker
to figure out where we are.  Until it was discovered how
to get a directional signal from the far-speaker it could
sometimes take days to find your destination in the thick,
swirling clouds of Venus.
     We're making good time and as I stand upon the bridge, I
feel the breeze blow past me providing some trifling relief  from
the oppressive heat.  I watch the navigator, checking his work
and we are right on course.  Then, I carefully observe the crew
for signs of heat exhaustion.  They're all sterling lads though
and seem to be holding up well.  I notice that seaman Philips,
one of the new recruits, seems to be having trouble with the main
lower topmast staysail as the wind has picked up unexpectedly. 
The line it's secured with comes loose and he finds his hands
full trying to draw in the whipping sail.  The bosun immediately
sends men aloft to help Philips in belaying that sail.
     Suddenly, the clouds part and I see a sight that makes my
blood run cold:  Ahead of us is a barrel shaped tunnel of air. 
If we get caught up in it, we could be tumbled end over end and
into the cloud blanket or dashed into the ground.  "It's a
vortex!"  I shout.  I begin snapping orders at a furious rate,
"Sound the alarm!  Helm, hard about!  X.O., see to the Moon cat
and prepare to jettison the survival crate."  Leaning down to the
speaking tube I scream, "Stone Driver, take us down.  Dive! 
Dive!  Dive!"
     As Roberval dashes below to see to Artemis, alarm bells ring
out and the crew works frantically to drop us below the
turbulence.  The air that was a light breeze a moment ago has
picked up into a rushing torrent of air that sucks us toward the
vortex's maw.
     The winds pull at us and the ship groans as it fights to
avoid being drawn into the swirling air.  We yaw widely as the
wind tears at our sails.  Those men aloft do all they can to just
hang on.  The deck pitches at a forty-five-degree angle and a few
loose crates and unsecured tools go sliding off the deck and over
the side.  Fortunately, none of the crew does but if the ship
rolls we're done for.  The loose sail snaps in the gusts and
whips around the main mast to entangle in the after spanker
sail's gaff.  It catches the wind there, causing the large fore-and-aft
sail to strain the ropes of the main boom over the helm.
The helmsman is hard pressed to ignore all this and concentrate
on holding the wheel.  He has it thrown hard over but it might
not be enough.
     Just when things don't look like they can get any worse, the
main block and tackle line snaps causing the after boom and sail
to start swinging back and forth with the wind.  The flapping
sail causes us to lose control and we start being drawn back into
the vortex.  With the deck at this angle, none of the crew can
possibly get over to the slackening line.
     Releasing my hold on the rail, I teleport over to the block. 
I slide about on the pitching deck but I just manage to hook my
foot under the after gun carriage.  When I stop heaving about, I
try and secure the free line.  The vortex is getting closer,
though, and I can't grab it.  Then fate takes a hand and a freak
wind blows the line right into my grasp.  I seize the whipping
line and draw it taught.  It is slick with water and the rope
pulls through my hands burning them.  I grit my teeth and use all
of my strength to loop it over the after gun mount.  The line
strains for a moment, but holds.  Foot by foot, I pull all the
slack out and the boom ceases its swing.  With some wind in the
sails the helmsman regains control of the swaying ship and
resumes our dive.  The crew gives out a ragged cheer.  Another
moment and we'll be out of danger.
     It's as I'm taking the last of the slack out that the loose
staysail smacks into me.  I scrabble at the iron cannon but the
two-hundred pounds of wet canvas slaps me off the mount despite
my great strength.  Desperately, I cling to the sail as I'm blown
off the side by the fierce winds.  I try to focus my mind for a
teleport but am confounded by being constantly slapped against
the ship's side.  Then comes the moment every sky sailor fears: 
I feel the rope part because of my extra weight and I begin to
fall.  End over end, the wind tumbles me and I'm immediately
disoriented.  I frantically turn my head trying to see the ship
but it's already hidden by the rain clouds.
     The wind whistles past my ears as I plummet like a stone. 
Too late, I tear myself free of the tattered canvas sail that is
the cause of my doom and straighten myself in my fall.  The ship
is nowhere around, no hope of a teleport, no hope of life.  Even
as tough as I am, there is no way I could possibly survive the
impact with the ground below.
     I fall free of the clouds into clear, lower air.   In the
last moments before death I wish to look down on the world that
is going to claim my life and I note that Venus is very
beautiful.  Everywhere is the green carpet of the forest with the
yellow tinged clouds forming a canopy over it all.  The winds
must have tossed us for miles for I can plainly see Ephesos less
than a few miles away.  The river Avon that runs through the
valley is like a beautiful, shining blue ribbon dropped from a
goddess' hair.
     The river!  I seize at that one possible thread of survival
desperately.  I've never been able to teleport very far no matter
how hard I've tried but it is my only shot.  Focusing my mind, I
reach out via my link to the Great Portal of Earth and call upon
the magic.  Using every fiber of my being, I will myself to
appear over the river.  For a moment, all of space is one as I
move without moving.  I rematerialize with my insides on fire. 
Dimly, I'm aware of the water suddenly below me.  My mind barely
has time to process that thought when, BAM, I strike the surface
at terminal velocity and sink like a stone.  As consciousness
leaves me, my last though is how ironic it is to avoid smashing
to death on the earth and wind up drowning in the water.
     Death is surprisingly just as I expect it to be.  I feel the
leaden weight of my body dragging me down.  Above me is the
light, I struggle to reach it but I am too weak.  I'm afraid.
     Then, there's someone in the light.  An angel!  The angel
slowly reaches down and draws me up toward the light.  Up and up
we go, the angel and I, toward the light.  Then, when we are
surrounded by the light, she kisses me breathing the pure breath
of God's love.
     I gag and almost throw up on her.  At that point, my lungs
begin to burn.  I'm not sure, but throwing up when an angel of
the Lord kisses you can't be a good start to your relationship to
the Almighty.
     Then, a warm mist caresses my brow as I feel a light drizzle
falling on me.  I'm not dead; I'm alive!  It is a long climb back
to full consciousness as I start to feel every part of my aching
body.  I am forced to flop about passively as someone hauls me
onto the shore.  For a while, I just lay there and try and regain
control of my muscles.  I feel every inch of my skin tingling and
stinging from striking the water.  Nothing seems to be broken,
thought, and it feels like I'm safely on dry land so I'm content
to lie there and quietly recover for a while.  As I do, I start
to hear voices as the ringing in my ears subsides.
  "... must be Terran, look at the uniform."
  "No, he could be a Lunar merchant.  They wear uniforms like
that."
  "But they don't carry big pistols.  Only Terrans go about armed
like that all the time."
  "Well, he fell from a sky-ship, that's for certain.  How long
do you think we should wait?  I think we should build a litter
and try to get him back to town now."
  "It would be prudent to delay for a while yet."
  "Do you think I should . . . ?"
  "No, he should be left where he is.  Moving him any more than
we already have might aggravate hidden injuries.  Let him settle
for a moment, and just breathe.  I'm surprised he's not worse off
than he is.  I couldn't find any broken bones and he even started
breathing again after you blew a little air into him. By the way,
I'm very proud of you."
  "Really?"
  "You reacted very quickly and calmly after he narrowly missed
hitting you."
  "Thanks," she says with a touch of modesty, "it was all cousin
Erin's training that did it."
  "Elder sister," the other corrects, "now that you are the
Younger the tradition is to refer to her as Elder Sister."
  "Yes, of course," she agrees, "Elder Sister's training made me
dodge without thinking when I saw the unexpected shadow.  Just
like she said."
  "That bodes well," says the older woman, "you will be
outstanding when it comes time to take her place.  You also did
well in diving after him right away.  Hesitation for even a
moment could have been crucial."
  "Well, even after he almost clobbered me, I couldn't let him
drown."
  "Uh . . . " I manage to finally groan.
  "Oh!" the elder one starts, "he's coming around."
     I hear the pad of footsteps and look up at my benefactors. 
The drizzle in my eyes makes me blink a little and I can only
make out their forms against the yellow clouds.  They squat down
next to me and I can get a better look at them.  Both are female,
one with long golden hair.  "You . . . " I whisper, "you're the
angel."
  "Why thank you," she says cheerfully.
     I look around a bit more and vaguely make out the second
one.  She has short brown hair but that's about all I can make
out as addled as my perception is.  Maybe if I could sit up for a
moment, I'd feel better.  Holding out my hand I mutter, "up . . .
"
     The golden haired one reaches out and firmly takes my hand
helping me to sit up.  When she does, I wince as a cannon goes
off inside my head.  I hiss a sharp intake of breath at the pain
and my vision clears.  They're both female all right, tanned,
athletic, one in her late twenties, the other in her late teens. 
What is most striking about them though is that they are both
stark naked.
  "Um . . . " I look away to spare them any embarrassment say,
"sorry to have interrupted your swim.  I'm okay now, thanks to
you."
  "Are you sure?" the golden haired one says with concern, "there
appears to be something wrong with your eyes."
  "Hm?" I ask looking away.
  "Yeah," she says, "they're rolling around and sort'a looking at
anything other than who you're talking to."  She snaps her
fingers before my eyes and asks, "Are you having trouble
focusing?"
  "Ah . . . " I stammer covering my eyes, "no, I'm really
physically okay." At last, I add with no small amount of
embarrassment, "uh, could you please put some clothes on?"
  "He's Terran all right," the older one giggles.
  "Well, we don't want to make him uncomfortable," the younger
one says courteously.
  "Oh, all right," the elder says in mild exasperation.  Removing
a simple white traveling robe from a sealed bag, she dons it. 
"Though I don't know why I bother as it's raining," she says,
"It'll just get wet."  She's right; The thin cotton robe is
immediately drenched by the warm rain.  It sticks to her skin and
becomes almost transparent leaving nothing to the imagination.
  "Ah . . .  better," I say trying not to ogle them as they
"dress" or afterwards for that matter.
  "I guess introductions are in order," I say pulling myself to
my feet, "I am Ferrite."
  "Ferrite?" the blonde asks winking to the other, "why would
anyone name their boy after rust?"
     "No, no," I say, "Ferrite is a title.  I'm one of the
Guardians of Earth: Captain of the H.M.S. Nemesis."  I almost
start as I realize the crew probably thinks I'm dead.   I've got
to signal them.  I root around in my pockets for a signal stone
but with the exception of my chronometer, held by my watch chain
to my jacket, my pockets are empty.  "Blast!" I say, "would
either of you have a signal stone in your pockets."  I look at
the thin robes and add, "No. I guess not.  Anyway, which way is
the city Ephesos?  I've got to get back there as soon as possible
and tell everyone I'm okay.  Otherwise they'll dispatch longboats
to search for me and they might run into another vortex."
  "We'll take you now," the younger one says pleasantly, "by the
way, my name is Aphrodite and this is Atalanta."
  "Thanks for the offer," I say, "but you would probably just
slow me down.  If you could just point the way, I'd appreciate
it.  When I get back to town, I'll remember your kindness and see
that you are well rewarded."
     The two share a knowing smile and Aphrodite says, "don't
worry we'll keep up.  It's this way."  Then, with surprising
speed, she and Atalanta sprint off into the jungle.  I run to
catch up.
     With astounding agility, they leap over the branches of the
tanglewoods and in some cases, use the twisty boughs as a
highway.  On Venus, this kind of travel is the only way to cross
the ground as the jungle grows so rapidly that roads are almost
immediately overgrown.  Somehow, despite my Guardian strength and
agility, they manage to keep ahead of me.  It must be their
having grown up in the jungles that enables them to do so.
     At one point, we reach a space across a ravine where the
branches do not span the gap.  Instead of slowing, they
accelerate and grasp some sturdy looking vines.  First Atalanta
and then Aphrodite swings across the gorge to the other side.  As
she swings, Aphrodite gives out a curious yodeling yell.
     Sure that anything they could do, I could do, I leap into
space and grab a vine.  I do it perfectly and give a smug smile
and an imitation of Aphrodite's yell.
     "Watch out for that tree!"  Aphrodite calls.  Too late . . . 
I slam into the trunk of the tree on the far side of the gorge. 
Fortunately, the trunk is covered by soft moss and I'm tougher
than a normal man so I keep my hold.  Shaking off the blow, I
drop to the ground next to them with only my pride injured. 
Satisfied that I'm okay, they race off again.
     Finally, we reach the city.  It looks like I'm just in time,
too.  Roberval along with all the marines and most of the ship's
company are assembled at the gate, apparently to start searching
for me.  He is conferring with an official looking Venusian and
several soldiers mounted on curious beasts that look vaguely like
short furred grasshoppers.  Atalanta calls out to them and they
notice us coming out of the jungle. A look of immense relief
crosses Roberval's face before he regains his composure. 
However, the Marine sergeant is less composed, "Ey' The capt'n's
all right!"   The crew gives a cheer and the sergeant adds,
"Coor, an' e's found a coupl'a ladies too."  That statement
prompts the crew to laugh.  The Venusians, however, do a curious
thing when we approach.  They bow to me like I'm royalty.  No,
they're not bowing to me but to Atalanta and Aphrodite.
     "Your highness," the captain of the guard says, "your
father, King Auric, was going to dispatch us to help search for
the Terran Guardian Ferrite, but I see you found him for us." 
She bids him to rise and then he turns to me and says, "We are
much relieved to see you alive.  However, important matters
cannot wait.  Since you are all right, we have orders to escort
you to the palace. The Terran consulate is there to receive you."
     "Well, if it's an official state function," the young woman
says, "I guess I'd better get in uniform."  She casually takes a
fuku with gold trim from Atalanta's bag and unselfconsciously
slips it on in front of everyone.
  "You . . .  you're the new Senshi Venus," I say when the
obvious clicks into place.
  "Why yes," she says scrunching her eyes closed and smiling
pleasantly.
  "I... I never would have guessed," I say amazed at the
revelation.
  "Well, you can't judge a Venusian by their cover," she says.
  "Or lack thereof," I hear Roberval mutter almost inaudibly.
  "And this is my great-aunt who was the elder Senshi Venus until
the sign appeared on my forehead," Aphrodite says gesturing to
Atalanta.
     Atalanta has also slipped into a stylized outfit that is
patterned after the fuku.  She gives a half bow and says,
"Greetings, Guardian Ferrite, we welcome you to our planet."
     I turn back to Aphrodite and ask, "Why didn't you tell me
you were Senshi Venus?"
  "Because you didn't ask," she answers with a giggle.
  "Guardian Ferrite . . . " The captain of the guard gestures
inside the gate.
     An honor guard is assembled from the marines to escort
Roberval and me to the palace with the rest to return to the
Nemesis with orders to break out the rum and celebrate my
miraculous survival.  Their Captain is buying.
     As we march, I look about me at the city.  I've been here
several times but it never fails to amaze me.  The Venusian
capital of Ephesos stands out starkly from the green forest.  It
is quarried from yellow and black stone that accentuates the
stark contrast between what is constructed and what is natural. 
I don't say manmade because the cities and far flung villas that
dot the landscape of Venus were not made by us; they were
constructed by the Ancients.
     These buildings of the Ancients are rounded and domed with
smooth surfaces and channels to catch and direct the copious
amounts of rain water.  The design of the concealed drains and
gutters is tremendously clever and is invisible to the casual
observer.  Everything is in aesthetic balance, the domes and the
walls and the streets. But then again, you'd hardly expect
anything less from their builders.  Yes, the Venusians are lucky
in that the Ancients constructed many small cities on Venus just
perfect for humans to inhabit after them.  
     Unlike Earth, where few structures of theirs still stand,
their buildings here are somehow preserved against the elements. 
Maybe it's some special quality these buildings possess like, for
some reason, the jungle will not grow over them.  It's not just
that the buildings are constructed whole, with no seams for roots
to find purchase or that the rain washes leaves and debris into
the gutters and away to the river.  It's as if the jungle doesn't
even try.
     Human buildings and clearings are covered within days unless
the surrounding foliage is vigorously cut back on a daily basis. 
The constant rain prevents the use of fire to do this work too,
so clearing the jungle is done either by magic or by hand. 
Consequently, the only buildings on Venus, are those built by the
Ancients.
     The only exception to this rule is the Cathedral of the
Reflection, the human building that houses the Venusian Wonder of
the Ancients: The Mirror of Venus.  Of all the Wonders it is the
most mysterious.  What we see is only a corner of the actual
wonder about sixty feet long, by fifteen feet thick.  The rest is
buried in the surrounding rock.  Attempts to dig it out have met
with failure because all too frequently the workers would see . .
.  something in the mirror and refuse to go anywhere near it
afterwards.
     What happens is, those that gaze into the mirror see their
future as it relates to other people.  All it tells, is what you
will feel in the future, your happiness or lack thereof.  If you
come to it as you are at the crux of a major decision, it might
show you the results of both paths.  Despite the risk, many go to
see what the future holds.  All the things the fortune tellers
promise, the Mirror delivers.  The thing is, like fortune
tellers, it gives no details, just what you will feel.
     The Cathedral is maintained by a large number of monks and
nuns who have gazed into the mirror and were so disturbed by what
they saw that they gave up their normal lives.  Now, they stay
there on the cathedral grounds and keep the jungle from covering
it.  The thought of visions so powerful that they could change
people so radically should make anyone hesitate to look into it
ever but people still do.
     On our walk to the palace, the rain comes pouring down. 
Despite their protective clothing, our entire company is soon
soaked to the skin.  That, along with the steamy, warm day,
threatens to poach us even in our light uniforms.  The Venusians,
who are wearing barely anything, in the case of the soldiers, or
nothing at all in the case of the civilians who watch us march
past, hardly seem to notice the rain.  Here and there, children
play like they're wearing clothes, point and laugh.  They act as
if, wearing clothes were not natural.
     Though I'm well aware of it from briefings and naval
dispatches, I'm nonetheless relieved when we arrive at the palace
and find everyone there wearing something.  It seems the Venusian
royalty favor gold silks and fine white linens and they
predominate the attire.
     We are led straight to the grand audience hall where we
stand before King Auric and Queen Dione.  Aphrodite steps up to
her father and mother, curtsies formally and then hugs and kisses
them both like Venusians do.  Artemis is happy to see her as well
and leaps up into her arms.  She strokes his ears affectionately
and then rapidly launches into an account of how I fell from the
sky almost on top of her and my subsequent rescue.  Atalanta adds
a few words of praise here or there for her pupil's quick
reaction.
     The Terran consulate, Ed Gruberman, is a scrawny little
fellow dressed like a foppish diplomat in an outlandishly
embroidered green jacket and breeches with a ridiculous grey wig. 

He listens with half an ear to the explanation and sizes up the
situation.  Then he turns to me and whispers, "It is good that
you have ingratiated yourself into the royal family's good
graces," he said.
  "Yes," I say, "how lucky I was knocked off my sky-ship to
almost certain doom.  A little more to the left and I would have
pulverized the princess as well."
     Apparently my sarcasm goes right past him as he says, "It's
a good thing you didn't, I've been building our relations with
the Venusians for ten years and that would have been quite a
setback.  Especially now that my efforts are about to bear
fruit."
  "So what has you in such a tizzy?"  I ask.
  "While you were en route from the Moon, something fantastic
happened on Mercury."
  "What could it be that I received no messages over the
farspeaker?"
  "Something too important to trust to even naval codes. 
Dispatches were hand carried from our representatives on Mercury. 
They've discovered a new device of the Ancients."
  "Well, out with it man, what is it?"
  "A machine that digs," he says reverently.
  "A machine that digs . . . " Roberval repeated, "I don't see as
how that's too much use to the Venusians.  I hear there are some
minerals about but . . . "
  "No," Gruberman says, "it's much more important that.  Think of
what that means to the Venusians."
  "Roads," I say, "roads that do not grow over and, if it
produces tunnels like those of Mercury, one's that require no
maintenance at all."
  "Exactly . . . " Gruberman says his eyes sparkling in delight,
"our treaty with them couldn't have come at a better time.  It
was found in the south warrens that they have claim over.  With
the new agreement, they will have to share it with the Mercurians
and us Terrans.  To the Mercurians, it means connecting all the
Warrens together and more living space.  To us it means
aqueducts, access to minerals, canals, you name it."
  I look at the Terran government official and ask, "how many of
these machines did they find?"
  "One," he says.
  "One . . . " Roberval echos again.
  "And they're bringing it to Venus to study."
  "Here?" I ask, "wouldn't it be better to examine it on Mercury
where the university is?"
  "No," Gruberman says, "In accordance with the new agreement,
devices of such import are to be examined by teams consisting of
representatives from all three planets at a site determined by
them.  At the behest of the lead scientists, it was decided it
should be shipped here to Venus.  The University is irrelevant
as, most of the top experts will be coming with it."  At this
announcement Roberval chuckles.  "What's so funny?" Gruberman
asks.
  "The Mercurian and Terran scientists," my second says, "they
just happened to decide to study the machine on a paradise planet
where the women hardly ever wear clothes."
  "Eh," Gruberman snickers, "a good point.  The scientists are
using this as an excuse for a vacation."
  I smile and add, "it must have been a tough decision on their
part."
  "Which is where you come in," Gruberman says, "the Nemesis is
to carry the machine here when it is ready for transport.  As
they are being very careful with that machine, it will be at
least two months before they are sure they can move it safely. 
The H.M.S. Herndon happens to be on Mercury so it is well
guarded."
  "The Herndon?" Roberval asks, "Isn't she considered a bit . . .
erratic?"
  "Yes," I agree, "but you would not want to run afoul of her. 
Her guns are powerful and her aim deadly."
  "Ahem," Gruberman clears his throat noisily and steers the
conversation back to his original point, "While we are here, you
are to act as our official representative with the Venusians.  I
am going to be on hand for serious negotiations but you are to
present the friendliest of faces toward them."
  "I don't think that will be a problem," I say looking at
Aphrodite, "but what purpose would that serve?"
  "You're to appraise me of how the royals feel about the tunnel
maker situation.  Nothing heavy handed or anything, just keep a
finger on the pulse," The diplomat says.
  "Very well," I say, "but how am I to accomplish that?  I'm
hardly a practiced courtier."
  "I'm glad you asked that," he says, "I'm going to propose a
party in celebration of the miraculous survival of the Hero of
Terra and his savior the Senshi Venus.  In addition, we'll whoop
it up over our new found accord.  You just have to get on their
good side. Play up to Aphrodite, that sort of thing."
  "Uh-huh," I agree dubiously.
  "Trust me," he says, "I know what I'm doing."

     And sure enough, he does.  I've seen some slick diplomats in
my time but this Gruberman character takes the cake.  In only a
short time, he has the Venusians agreeing to a big party with
them picking up the tab.  In a display of how organized and
focused they can be when they want to be, a huge ball is arranged
for the end of week with invitations being sent out via
farspeaker to the other city states.  Nobles and the upper crust
from across Venus will be attending.  The week seems to fly by as
the big event approaches.
     One way to gauge how important an event is with Venusians is
by how much they dress up for it.  The night of the ball tells
how very important they feel this is because everybody is dressed
up.  The women are dressed provocatively in silks spanning a
rainbow of colors.  The men mostly wear suits of fine white linin
with silk shirts and lace ruffles.  They apparently want to suck
up to us as much as we want to suck up to them because they've
pulled out all the stops with both the food and the wine being
first-rate.
     I'm making the rounds at the party, pressing the flesh,
being personable to all our new Venusian friends when I encounter
Atalanta.  She is standing there in a green dress that is very
low cut (though most Venusian women dress so).  She's comfortably
on the arm of a distinguished gentleman of about fifty. 
Unmistakably he is a Terran because he has a monogram on his
jacket of a dragon and a unicorn, the mark of Hammer trading
company.  "Ah, Captain Ferrite," she says, "allow me to introduce
you to my husband, Johnin Willis.  You and he probably have a lot
in common as he is a former ship's captain.  Now, however, he
runs the Venus offices of Hammer trading."
     "A pleasure to meet your acquaintance," I say.
     He answers me in Muvian and says, "it is good to speak to
you at last, sir, I've heard of some of your exploits.  You do
our nation proud."
     Pleased to speak a civilized language and not the wild
variant of Muvian that is Venusian I answer in the same language,
"I happened to be at the right place at the right time.  I'm sure
any in my position would have done the same."
     "Ah, you are too modest, Captain," Atalanta says displaying
her mastery of our language, "even your most recent brush with
death was a result of your attempts to bring your ship from
peril."  Several other couples gather around and someone asks,
"yes, do tell us about it."  I hesitate but in the end I let them
drag it out of me.  I don't admit to being terrified most of the
time though, since a good portion of being a legendary character
are lies anyway.  At last, I wrap it up with my triumphant return
to the royal palace.
     During that time, casually observe Aphrodite as she and her
friends circulate on the other side of the ball room.  She's
accompanied by several of her peers and they chat and gossip for
a while.
     When the orchestra begins to play, four young noblemen (I
recognize their house colors), converge on the quartet and ask
the young ladies to dance.  Two couples go out on the dance floor
with the oddest thing happening: two of the young men have asked
the same one of the remaining two young ladies for this dance.  A
tense moment ensues as they trade glares and a test of wills
ensues.  What makes it strange is the lady in question is not
Aphrodite.  She stands ignored to one side, as they argue over
her compatriot.  The girl finally takes a hand in this and
chooses one of the young men and accompanies him out on the dance
floor.  That leaves the remaining fellow standing there fuming. 
Still, he ignores Aphrodite who looks hopeful for a moment and
then becomes quite downcast.
     What's the matter with him?  Is he blind?  She's gorgeous,
shapely, big blue eyes and flowing blond mane, any man would kill
to dance with her.  Why, she should have to fight her admirers
off with a stick.  "Ah Johnin, Atalanta," I say to my new
friends, "why do the young men have such an aversion to
Aphrodite.
  "Oh, poor dear," Atalanta says looking at her relative, "to be
so young and have such a bad reputation."
  "Ah," I say and nod in understanding, "that explains it.  If
she has a reputation for *ahem* licentious behavior, I can see
why no young man would want to be seen with her."
     At those words, Atalanta and Johnin burst out laughing. 
Atalanta is so amused, she pulls one of her friends close and
whispers what I said to her.  Both of them glance at me and
twitter behind their fans.
  "What?" I ask them, "what have I said that is funny?  I'd think
my statement shocking by even Venusian standards."
  "Oh," Atalanta says mirthfully, "Aphrodite doesn't have a
reputation for . . . " she trails off as she realizes she's
speaking to a Terran and concludes, "a reputation for that!"
  "Yes," her husband adds, "after all this is Venus, old boy.  Er
. . .  licentious behavior, as you say, is looked upon quite
differently here."
  "So why won't anyone dance with Aphrodite?" I ask mystified.
     I glance back at the subject of our discussion and see that
the young man has gotten tired of waiting for his friends and in
desperation has taken her out on the floor.  Aphrodite is
ecstatic, she holds his hands and twirls and gambols this way
that.  Too bad she's doing it to one of the more sedate waltzes
in the orchestra's repertoire.
  "Because," Atalanta explains with an amused sigh, "Aphrodite
has a reputation as a terrible dancer."
  "Oh . . . " I say quietly.
     What Atalanta says is a massive understatement.  Here and
there, Aphrodite's leaps and bounds carry her all over the
ballroom floor dragging the young man along helplessly.  All the
while, she is cheerfully oblivious as she tromps heavily on the
toes of her hapless partner.  I'll give the fellow this, either
he's very determined or has a high pain threshold because he
grimly grits his teeth and tries to tough out the whole waltz.
     Then I notice something that really gets me: I see the lords
and ladies on the edges of the dance floor watch the two and
whisper behind their hands and fans and snicker.  I'm outraged! 
This angel is being maligned behind her back just because she
lacks the quality of being a good dancer.  These puffed up, tin
pot, backwoods, bumpkin nobility dare to look down on her?  This
will not stand!  I stride purposefully over to Aphrodite and her
dance partner and tap the young man firmly on the shoulder.
     "I beg your pardon, noble sir," I ask politely but firmly,
"but may I cut in?"  For a second, he pauses as he takes in the
sight of me.  In my full dress uniform with its decorations, I
cut an imposing figure:  polished black calf-length boots, white
breeches, and high collar, dark blue coat with a grey sash.  On
the breast of the jacket are some very impressive ribbons
including the Terran order of the rose and the Mercurian
sunburst.  By and large, women find me dashing, men find me
threatening.
  "Sure, Terran," the Venusian prince says sarcastically glancing
at Aphrodite, "I've got a pressing appointment with my
physician."  He limps to the side, nursing his crushed toes.
  "Hm . . . " I say eyeing Aphrodite with a slight smile.
  She visibly sweats and rubs the back of her neck in
embarrassment.  "I guess he couldn't keep up with my
improvisation very well," she says.
     I take her hands and say, "waltzes are generally not the
time for improvising.  Follow my lead."  Then, I firmly guide her
through the steps around the dance floor.  As we move, she's like
a colt: attempting to bolt from the traces and take me off in an
unintended direction but I keep a tight reign on her. 
Fortunately, my boots are tough and my toes are durable; a horse
could step on them and I would hardly notice it.  After a few
short moments of trying to teach her the waltz, though, it feels
like one had.  Finally, after a couple of circuits, she's got the
rhythm and steps.  When she actually follows the music, she's
quite graceful.
     That particular dance ends and another begins; like before,
I guide her through this one as well . . .  and the next and the
next.  Every eye in the ballroom is upon us as we dance across
the floor.  Together we form a counterpoint each to the other: I
serve as anchor while she almost flies around like a kite in the
breeze with her long blond hair flowing like its tail.  Blue and
gold, her dress and my uniform balance and enhance one another in
the twist and swirl of our movements.
     By the Ancients, I remark to myself, she is beautiful. 
Again and again, we dance; Our magical natures make us as
tireless as the planets in their orbits.  Only when the orchestra
finally stops do I realize we've danced half the night away. 
Quite a few who whispered before, applaud our performance.  Can't
dance indeed!  I look over to her and she blushes enchantingly at
all the attention.  She looks to me and I swear that she has
stars in her eyes.  I raise her hand over her head like a
champion and like a couple of performers, we give a quick bow. 
To escape further scrutiny, she leads me out to the balcony
overlooking the garden.
     The sky, shrouded in clouds completely blocks out the stars. 
Above it is pitch black, but below, the jungle is lit here and
there by luminous startrees.  A number of insects also add a
spark of light here or there hoping to attract a mate, so I've
heard.   I look over at Aphrodite and she's watching me. 
Somehow, she seems to glow too.
  "Thanks for helping me out in there," she says.
  "I owe you my life, what is that compared to a simple lesson in
dance?" I ask, "Besides, it was my pleasure."
  "Yes, it was fun, wasn't it?" she asks rhetorically.
  "Delightful," I agree.  Then, because it might pay to have her
friendship later, I add, "I can't imagine an evening with a more
charming and graceful young woman."
     She scoffs at the blatant flattery and says, "please, I was
on your feet more than mine."  She steps closer to me and looks
in my eyes and says, "while I appreciate your help, you should
admit that you just came to my rescue because you've been given
orders to ingratiate yourself to me and the rest of the royal
family."
     Normally it takes a lot to rattle me but I gape in
astonishment at what she says.  She takes my reaction as
confirmation of her suspicions.  "Surprised silly little me knows
about such things?"  She asks.  Aphrodite looks away into the
jungle and continues, "we were warned to expect little maneuvers
like this."
     I blink in surprise at that statement.  What's so surprising
is how close to the truth it strikes.  I'm about to spin her some
story of rebuttal but I look back into her eyes and I know I
can't lie to her.  "I... I won't deny that I was given certain
orders," I say, "Terra has a great interest in the discovery on
Mercury.  But I wasn't thinking that when I went to you."
  "No?"
  "No, I . . .  first I saw how disappointed you were that you
were left standing there.  But then, when people were joking
about you, I wanted . . . "  I'm about to get flowery but her
eyes demand honesty.  I clench my fist at the memory of how angry
I was and say, "I wanted to slap each and every one their silly
faces."  She chuckles at that and I add, "Then I wanted to sweep
you up and . . . " I pause for a second.  I reconsider what I was
going to say and instead finish, "and show them how graceful I
knew you really are."
     Odd, I was going to say "sweep you up and carry you off." 
Carry her off?  Carry her off and do what with her?  And when did
I ever get that forward?  "Besides," my conscious pipes up and
asks, "don't you already have a girl?"  Before I start arguing
with myself I notice she's saying something to me so I start
paying attention again.
  "... you really were thinking?"  She asks and bats her big blue
eyes wistfully.
  "Uh . . . " I sweat for a moment and then answer, "yes."  I
hope that's the right answer to the question.
  "Oh, that's so sweet," she sighs, "Thank you."
     Score one for dumb luck.
     Then, she looks out at the forest again and asks, "Who are
you Ferrite?"
     "Hm?" I ask looking at her in amazement again.  What kind of
question is that?  I'm about to tell her, 'none of your
business.'  But I should at least be polite.  After all, I am
under orders.
     Before I can say anything else though, she leans forward on
the railing and rests her chin on her hands.  The breeze plays
with her long, blond hair.  The view of her form literally takes
my breath away.  "It seems like only yesterday the Venus symbol
appeared on my forehead," she says, "There's been so much change
since I was simple little princess Aphrodite that I'm not sure
who I'm supposed to be.   I mean, Senshi are supposed to be the
symbol of their planets: the pinnacle of power and grace. 
Sometimes I'm afraid of letting everyone down.  And I don't mean
nonsense like dancing.  What I'd like to know is how you handle
it.  Who are you, really?"
  "Do you mean," I ask, "am I the opposite of what I appear to
be?  Am I really just a sensitive soul craving love and
understanding?"
  "Yes," she says.
  "No," I answer truthfully, "I really am exactly as I appear:
tough, cocky and arrogant."
  "You know, you might be more likeable if you didn't try to
maintain that Terran Guardian image so much."
     I just shrug helplessly.  I am what I am.
     Then she takes a different tack entirely and asks, "What did
you really want to do . . .  before you became a Guardian, that
is?"
     "Nobody's asked that before," I answer, "Truthfully, I
wanted to build ships.  My family name is 'Shipwright' and that
is what we do.  My elder brother inherited the lands and the
title; as a second son, I would get a stipend, perhaps a good
horse and things but little else.  Still, that wasn't so bad.  I
had enough money to become educated and with my connections I
could apprentice with some of the best designers.  First, though,
I thought I'd learn about ships a bit and see a little of the
Solar System.  So I joined the Navy.  I planned to eventually
return home and build ships: ships to sail the skies."
  "So you really are a dreamer . . .  you dream of building
flying boats."
  "Hm, I guess you're right," I concede, "I am a bit of a
dreamer."
     When I say that, she smiles at me in the cutest way: she
scrunches her eyes closed, tilts her head slightly and curves her
lips up in a broad smile.  She taps her finger to her lips as she
looks at me speculatively.  Apparently, she comes to some
decision and her whole demeanor relaxes.
  "This is fun but," she says hopping lightly up on the rail,
"let's go for a swim."
  "A swim?" I ask looking slightly askance at the garden a good
forty feet below us, "don't you need water for that?"
  "Of course silly," she says prancing to the corner, "there's a
pool at the edge of the garden."
     She doesn't wait for my reply but leaps off the balcony and
lands on the path below.  She glances up once and then sets off
down the path.  I leap down and follow after her through the
garden.  Her trail is fairly easy to trace as she's leaving her
clothing behind as she removes it.  Ahead of me, I hear a splash
just as I come upon her white silk shift.  A startree illuminates
the largish pool and in the dim white light and I see a streak of
yellow blond in the water.
     She breaks the surface and treads water in slow even
strokes.  "Come on in," she calls from a largish pool of water, 
"The water's fine."
     "Okay," I say more than a little reluctantly.  I hesitate to
be so . . .  ahem, familiar.  But when on Venus do as the
Venusians do.  I strip down to my shorts and stop there.  This
being naked around the opposite sex thing the Venusians do is
just beyond me.  Hanging my clothes on a bush, I start to get
into the water still in my under shorts.
     She rolls her eyes in mild derision and says, "Why are you
wearing those, you're going swimming?"
     "With no clothes on?"  I ask exaggerating my offended
sensibilities, "What, so you might compare me to every other man
who's chased you into the water?  I think I'll just keep my
shorts, thank you."
     "What?" She yells in outrage and then sees my smirk and
twinkling eyes.  Still, my slight will not go unpunished; she
brings back her arms and splashes me, "Like I'm some strumpet
that pulls men off the street and into the river?  Take that!"
     "Oh, the Venusians declare war on the Terrans," I say
answering her splashes in kind, "have at thee!"  A spirited
splash fight then ensues.  She's a Senshi but I've got size on my
side so we're evenly matched as we hurl water at each other. 
She's a good swimmer and keeps the distance as she continues to
splash wave after wave of water on me.  My height allows me to
stand on the bottom and splash though so I've got the advantage. 
Then she decides to be tricky and draw me out so that I'm
treading water as I splash her.  We're out in the deep water when
she decides to get really crafty.  Aphrodite dives under the
water and circles around behind me.  However, I use my awareness
to pinpoint her and just as she breaks the surface, I unleash a
torrent upon her.  She's just in the middle of taking a breath
and inhales some water.  She starts coughing and sputtering and
says, "Stop, please . . . " I stop and then she suddenly ceases
coughing and says, "Fooled ya'!"  Splot!  She hits me with a ball
of mud right in the face.  I'm so surprised, I stop treading
water and sink beneath the water.   Then, I decide to get tricky
myself.  A few quick strokes and I'm on the bottom of the water.
     I stay there, my toes gripping a branch on the floor of the
pool.  As a Guardian, I can hold my breath for about ten minutes
with no problem, fifteen if I push it.  For a few minutes things
are quiet up above.  Then I hear splashing as she dives in and
searches for me.  Do I detect a sense of urgency as the time
passes and I still haven't surfaced?  I wait until I can't hear
her anymore before releasing my grip on the branch; before I
move, I scoop up a handful of mud.  Slowly I bob to the surface. 
With muck at the ready, I start to look around for my prey and .
. .  SPLAT!  Aphrodite's well aimed mud ball catches me right in
the side of the head.
     I'm so surprised I open my mouth and my air starved lungs
automatically draw in a bit of water before I can stop myself. 
Choking and sputtering, I try and make for the shore but I still
get no mercy from her as she pops me again in the back of the
neck, giggling madly all the while.  "Gotcha!"  She gloats
gleefully, "tried to put one over on me but I know what you can
do."  To forestall further fusillades, I wave off her attacks,
signaling my surrender.  I duck underwater, just in time to dodge
her final, punitive shot and wash off the sludge she's splattered
me with.
     I finally make it to shore and lay on my back where I gasp
for air.  "Woman," I moan, "is there is no mercy in you?"
     "Not when there is a battle on," she says.  Almost like
flowing water, she's reclining next to me on the grass.
     "I will have to send warning of the Venusian spirit lest we
find ourselves in conflict with them."
     "But we are magnanimous in victory," she says.  Leaning over
me, she darts down like a kingfisher going for a minnow and
kisses me quickly.  She then pulls away and watches my reaction. 
I'm stunned to say the least.
     "If that is how all the vanquished are treated, then no army
could stand before the Venusians.  They would all gladly
surrender."
     "Does that mean you liked the kiss?"  She asks innocently.
     "I'm hoping that by giving you faint praise," I say, "you'll
do it again to try to entice a more emphatic response from me."
     She kisses me again, this time longer and more passionately. 
Then, she pulls back again to observe my reaction.
     "I liked the kiss."
     She scrunches her eyes closed and tilts her head slight to
one side and smiles ever so cutely.  Then she leans forward and
kisses me again.
     "Mmmh," she gives a small sigh of passion as her lips meet
mine. She runs one hand through my hair and the other caresses my
cheek as she puts all her soul into a kiss that seems to last
forever.  At least, I want it to last forever.   Her warm, wet
hair, flows down over her shoulder and between our bodies making
the merest silken separation between the two of us.  She rests
her weight atop me but she seems like she weighs a feather.  I
place one hand on the back of her head and the other in the
middle of her back and press her to me.  We seem to fuse into one
so intense is the passion of the moment.  I move my hand down to
the small of her back . . . 
     And then I do possibly the hardest thing I've ever done
before: I stop.  Part of me is shouting, "what are you doing, you
fool?  She's willing and beautiful, why are you stopping?"
  The other part says, "this . . .  I want something more.  I
don't want just her body.  I want her soul.  If I lay with her
now, it will be essentially over.  As long as I remain the
restrained, aloof Terran, I hold her interest.  After I start
behaving like a Venusian, she'll move on."
  "But she's a gorgeous princess for god's sake!"
  "Shaddap!"

  "Is something wrong?" Aphrodite asks staring into my slightly
unfocused eyes.
  I look into her own limped blue eyes, shining in the diffuse
light.  "N . . . no," I say, "I desire you more than anything. 
It's just . . . "
  "Just?"
  "Well, I . . .  it's too soon."
  "Too soon?"
  "I'm not sure I can get my point across."
  "Well if you're having a problem . . . "
  "Ah, no!  Not that!" I stammer, "Not at all!  I just want us to
take our time.  Slow down a bit.  I want it to mean more."
     She pauses and considers what I say.  It's so alien to her
Venusian way of thinking but I see that she gets what I'm saying. 
She sighs in disappointment (given that she's laying atop me it's
a maneuver that makes me really regret my decision) and says,
"Well, I guess we should be getting back to the dance, then." 
She gets up and helps me to my feet.
  "There is still one thing," I say as she starts to lead me by
the hand up the path.
  "What?" she asks, glancing back.
  "Revenge!" I shout and splatter her in the face with a big
handful of mud.  She shrieks and tries to push me back into the
water but I sidestep her half-blinded charge.  I smack her on the
rump and she goes flying back into the water.  With a whoop, I
dive back in and another spirited splash fight ensues.  Later, we
return to the party, arm in arm . . .   Fully clothed, of course.


     Over the next few weeks, what can best be called a whirlwind
romance ensues.  I'm a frequent visitor to the palace (Gruberman,
sensing the connection forming between Aphrodite and myself, is
sure to drag me there on even the most trivial of reasons). 
Then, he just happens to abandon me in the same room as
Aphrodite.  From there, it usually turns into a pleasant
afternoon with the Young Senshi.  I don't object one bit.
     Compared to most of the royalty I've met, she's refreshingly
physical.  Where most ladies of court are interested in more of
the softer pursuits of music or art, she enjoys sports: archery,
swimming, net ball and the Venusian sport of fell running.  Fell
running involves running a circuit of obstacles much like a
steeplechase only through the jungle.  She invites me on these
friendly competitions and I gladly accept.  The only thing is, I
stand out a bit in the circle of athletes as I am usually the
only one wearing clothes.
     About a month into my stay on Venus, I'm really surprised
when she greets me dressed in curious, long, flowing robes
cinched at the waist with a broad, leather belt.  They're
composed of material as strong as canvas but tightly woven, like
silk.  "Oh, good," she says thrusting a similar robe in my arms,
"try this on and we can get going."
     Gamely, I don the loose garment and examine the strange,
oversized sleeves and legs.  "What is the purpose of this thing?" 
I ask, "some religious ceremony?"
     "You could say that," she says teasingly, "a lot of people
have prayed to God the first time they tried one on."  Satisfied
with how it fits me, she has me take it off and stash it in a bag
with hers that she slings over her shoulder.  Oddly, she's
dressed in a one piece jump suit of thin but tough material I've
seen worn by some of the mountain people of Venus.
     "So what is the reason for the robe?" I ask.  Knowing
Venusian's aversion to clothing I'm very curious what would make
them break with that behavior.
     "We'll need it when we get to . . .  where we are going."
     "Where?"
     "You'll see," she says with a smile.  Without any further
explanation we quit the palace and she leads me off into the
jungle, just the two of us.  Making full use of our magical
nature, she pours on the speed.  Leaping and bounding over
obstacles, she and I are able to cover a considerable distance
very quickly.  Up into the high country she leads me through the
almost impenetrable jungle.  Given the terrain we traverse, I can
see why the Venusians so covet the tunneling device.
     Up we continue into the mountains.  As we climb, we leave
the jungle behind; the rain scoured rocks offer no place for even
the tenacious tanglewoods to take hold.  Our goal seems to be a
high peak surrounded by a mysterious thunderstorm that shrouds
the soaring top of the mountain.  Higher and higher we go until
we reach a sheltered, narrow cleft in the rocks.  At last finding
cover from the constant rain, we stop.  Through the opening, the
wind blows continuously, almost like a stream of water.  "We're
here," she says dropping the bag breathlessly.
     "Where's here?" I ask looking around at the barren rocks. 
We're so high that we've even left the jungle behind.  So intent
was I on climbing that I hadn't noticed how high we were.  The
view is breathtaking.
     "The perfect place for lunch," she says taking a basket out
of her bag.  I open my mouth to say something but I catch a whiff
of something spicy in the basket and my stomach growls audibly. 
"I see you agree," she says as though I'd actually said
something.  "Yes, let's eat," I say.
     Hungrily we dig into the victuals: Venusian tree sloth
seasoned with ember peppers on hard bread.  Not surprisingly, it
tastes nothing like chicken.  After lunch, she sits back and
starts to brush the tangles out of her long, blond hair in
preparation for braiding it.  She declines to answer my questions
as to why now.  Hoping to speed the process, I ask for the brush
and I take over for her.  She sits quietly as I stroke the brush
through her beautiful mane of hair.  Using a little sailor's
craft, I plat her locks into two long braids for her.  Then she
takes the braids and does them up tightly to her head.  I find
the whole exercise . . .  stimulating.
     When that is done, she has me put on the robe.  Just as
unselfconsciously as before, she strips off her traveling clothes
and dons her own.  She adjusts my belt and says, "before we go
any further, I want you to swear that you'll never reveal what
you see from here onward to anyone outside of Venus."  I'm about
to put some conditions on my swearing anything but instead I just
say solemnly, "I so swear."  Aphrodite would never make me swear
to anything contrary to my loyalties.  "Prepare for a religious
experience," she says and gathers the loose folds of the robe
into a considerable bundle beneath one arm.  I do the same and
she takes my hand and leads me through the opening in the rock.
     Just inside the entrance to the tunnel, the winds increase,
and tug at the robe.  The tunnel floor is smooth, by the passage
of many feet over the years and leads upwards into the heart of
the peak.  Is she leading me to some hidden temple?  Is she
planning on inducting me into some Venusian cult no Terran has
ever heard of before?
     Finally, the tunnel ends at a narrow ledge around a
perfectly circular pit more than a three hundred feet in
diameter.  The walls of the pit perfectly smooth with no sign of
being worked by human hands nor have they been roughened by
weather.  The pit goes down straight with no bottom that I can
see; it could very well go down to the heart of the world.  There
can be no doubt about it; this was constructed by the Ancients. 
I look up and see a surrounding ring of peaks that hide the
narrow opening from detection from the air.  Given the clouds,
it's not surprising this is unknown to outsiders.
     From the depths, the dry wind blasts skyward where it mixes
with the misty clouds and forms a swirling spiral directly above
us.  It's raining fiercely but the rising air acts as an
umbrella, deflecting the rain drops to the surrounding peaks. 
Lighting lashes down from the storm to strike the surrounding
spires mercilessly.  The interplay of forces is awesome.  I
understand what she meant by a religious experience.  It is akin
to traveling down the Spire of Jupiter only here, there is no
ship under your feet.  Nothing manmade protects you; It is just
you alone with the wind and the storm.
     Here the wind from the heart of the planet is much more
intense, blasting out of the pit of the Ancients.  Much to my
unease, Aphrodite stands close to the edge.  Given my recent
experience with heights, I'm a few steps back, trying to keep
well away from the rim.  She turns her back to the drop off and
shouts exuberantly over the roar of the wind, "Welcome to the
Windpools!"  She takes a step backwards toward the pit and her
eyes take on this excited gleam.  She spreads her arms wide and
drops the bundle of her robes; the sleeves of her robe are
whipped this way and that by the gale.
  "Isn't it glorious?"  She shouts with childish glee.
  "Yes, glorious," I say uneasily reminded by her flapping robes
of the canvas sail that almost sent me to my death.  "Can we tell
me how glorious it is from over here?"  I ask from the safety of
the tunnel mouth.
  "No," she says loudly with a shake of her head, "today I do
dangerous things . . .  say dangerous things."
  "What?"  I shout.  She says nothing but grins and takes another
step back.  "Stop!" I shout.  Now I'm very afraid for her safety,
"say what you will but please be careful."
  "I love you," she says quietly but I hear her plainly over the
roar of the wind.
     I'm stunned into immobility by her words but just as
naturally, as if I knew it all along I echo, "I love you."
     At that moment, the storm above strikes the peaks above with
a powerful stroke of lightning.  The booming thunder seems to
fill the whole tunnel with sound.  It crashes down the bowl like
an avalanche, like the gods were angry.  Aphrodite hears my words
over this and gives a cry of joy . . .  and steps backwards over
the precipice.
     "No!"  I shout as she falls from sight.  God, no!  Dashing
forward, I'm about to leap after her when she rises into view
lifted by the winds.  Arms and legs spread wide to make her robe
catch the flow of air, she's flying!  She giggles at the look on
my face and says, "This is what I mean by saying and doing
dangerous things."
     "Come here you!" I growl and snatch her out of the stream of
air.  I pull her into my arms and hold her fiercely.  For a
moment that is all I can do, just hold her.  Then, I remember my
anger and hold her by her shoulders in front of me.  "Don't ever
scare me like that aga . . . " I start to snarl but she kisses me
and I find I have no more words of anger for her.  She is wild
and impulsive and unrestrained and I love her completely.  There,
with the wind and the storm howling the power of the Ancients and
nature, I lose myself to her forever.
     Aphrodite breaks the kiss and says, "Come Ferrite, today
I'll show you how to fly."  Taking my hand, she leads me to the
edge.  With a nod of assurance from her, together we stepped off
into space.  Now it is her turn to teach me as we dance on air.


     Gruberman, the little toad, somehow gets wind of the fact
that we went off together and thinks it's all part of some scheme
I've got.  After that, he's after me constantly trying to get me
to ply her with questions.  However, the only question I'm
interested in after visiting the Windpools is whether or not
she'll marry me.  Oops, did I actually think that?  Yes!  It's
been less than a month but I know that she's the one.  With Hope
I wanted to build something but with Aphrodite it's already
there.  Recognizing that, I write a long letter to Hope that
tells her everything and how it is over between us.  I hate doing
it this way but I cannot use the farspeaker for my personal
communications.  I prepare to send it with the naval dispatches
on my return from Mercury.
     The only hurdle to Aphrodite I had to clear was with her
parents.  Fortunately, when I sounded them out, I was able to
make it in under the wire.  The Venusians want closer ties to
Earth and a son-in-law who has the ear of King Arturo and Prince
Endymion could be useful.  There was some concern that I was of
lesser nobility but my naval rank and Guardian status brings that
to an acceptable level.  What really surprised King Auric was
that I've accumulated a sizable fortune.  (Knowledge of naval
contracts a little diplomatic inside information can go a long
way in investment.)
     Now, the only one left to convince is the lady herself.  It
was on my last day on Venus before we were to depart for Mercury
and retrieve the tunneling apparatus that I asked to meet her.  I
was thinking about waiting until I returned, but some questions
will not wait.  It was on the balcony off of the main ball room:
the same place we went after the dance.
     She's waiting for me there, looking out over the garden. 
The rain is light right now and it comes down in a slow, warm
drizzle.  She turns to me and I swear there are stars in her eyes
again.  She knows what I want to say and rushes into my arms and
kisses me.  I want to blurt my question out in a rush but I
refrain.  It must be said and in the proper form.  I disentangle
myself from her, take both hands and get down on bended knee. 
She smiles broadly at me, amused by my Terran formality.  Then, I
take out a ring, made from the purest gold with a diamond that
represents years of hard work and hold it up as an offering to
her.  Like a prayer to a goddess I say softly, "Aphrodite, will
you marry me?"
     She places both her hands over mine and takes the proffered
ring.  Her eyes are rimmed with tears of joy as she takes it and
holds it in both hands like the love it represents.  "Y . . ."
she starts to answer 'yes' and but then stops.  She smiles coyly
and steps away teasingly.  Glancing back at me, she says,
"Maybe."
  "Maybe?!?"  I shout zooming to my feet, "Maybe?!?"
  "Yes, maybe," she says.
  "Yes?" I ask a bit confused by her previous words.
  "Maybe," she says.
  "You said yes just now," I assert.
  "No," she says.
  "No!?!" I shout, "what do you mean, no?"
  "No, maybe!" she exclaims.
  "Yes! No! Maybe!  Which is it?" I say completely exasperated,
"You're driving me . . . "
     She grabs me and kisses me hard, passionately and long,
shutting me up.  After a time where even I start to run out of
air, she breaks the kiss and smiles affectionately up at me.  I
blow out a sigh at the intensity of the kiss.  That in itself
must have meant . . .   "Maybe," she says.
  "ARRGH!" I shout.  "Do you wish to drive me mad?"
  "Maybe," she says affectionately rumpling my hair.  I grab for
her but she uses her Senshi speed to slip away and then she says. 
"I'm hoping by giving you evasive answers to inspire you to
continue."
     I goggle at her for a moment as she uses my own words
against me.  I try the same trick, "So tell me your feelings. 
You said a Venusian woman would tell you their intentions
straight out."
     "My feelings?"  She asks and bats those big blue eyes at me.
She taps the side of her head thoughtfully for a moment and then
says, "My feelings say . . . "  And then she leaps on me knocking
me back against the wall and kisses me again.  She breaks the
kiss and I slump as though drained.  "Now . . . " she lets go and
dances back a step or two, "now my intentions are to make you
wait for my answer."  I sigh and she continues, "And to drive you
crazy, of course."
  "Argh!" I start to stomp out but she stops me when she says,
"you know what makes me want to give you a definite maybe?"
  So confused by that convoluted reasoning I stop and ask,
"What?"
  "You never once tried to take advantage of our relationship to
find out what my father thinks of the Mercury situation.  I know
you've been told to ask but you didn't.  That meant you really
cared about me.  More than anything else, you cared about me."
  "I... you know I do," I say holding her close.  I kiss her
sweetly and say, "You've got me so wrapped up, I've been ignoring
Gruberman's direct orders to pry even the tiniest smidgen of
information from you.  I'd never even think of that, not to you. 
Then again, there's this whole, stay with me for the rest of my
life thing that says that too."
  "I still intend to make you wait for an answer," she says with
a giggle.
  "Why?" I ask.
  "Now it's my turn to play the conservative Terran," she says,
"you've been doing it.  So now you're being hoist on your own
petard."
  "Not a pleasant experience," I say.  I sigh again and say, "are
you sure you can't tell me now?  It won't be long until I must
leave for Mercury."
  "Well," she says, "I know you've got to leave in a couple of
hours, but before you go . . . "
  "Yes?"
  "I think I'd like to give you some indication how I'm going to
answer you."
 "How . . . "
     Again she cuts me off with a kiss as she leans into me. 
Then her hands start to work at the buttons on my jacket.  I'm
about to stop her but . . .  but she's a beautiful princess for
God's sake!  Instead, I untie the ribbon from her hair and let it
fall to the floor.  She gasps as I kiss the side of her neck. 
She unbuttons my shirt and I feel shivers run down my back when
she kisses my chest.  I hoist her up bodily so we are eye to eye
and I kiss her almost violently.
     "Eeeek!"  Suddenly, she lets out a small shriek of surpise
at a signal stone that is now buzzing around my head.  "Barometer
falling.  Storm coming in.  Must leave now to hold schedule," it
says in Roberval's voice.  DAMN!!!  For an agonizing moment I'm
torn between duty and a half-dressed princess.  DAMN!!!  "I, er .
. . " I start to say.
     "Hush," she says blocking my lips with her fingers.  She
quickly buttons my shirt again and says, "Go and I'll have your
answer when you return."
     "I, er . . .  damn," I mutter.  I hug her one last time
before I go and she hugs back as though we two were one.  Then
she breaks the hug, kisses me again, and pushes me away saying,
"hurry back."  Then she stretches her arms over her head, catlike
and leans back against the wall.  She knows how she looks when
she does that!  It's like pulling myself out of glue but I
somehow manage to take a few steps away.  Then, I leap over the
rail to the path below and run just as fast as I can back to the
Nemesis.  The sooner I get to planet Mercury, the sooner I get
back . . .  to her. 

     To say it was a quick trip to Mercury and back would be a
massive understatement.  The whole crew saw me burning shoe
leather running up to the ship and I made the mistake of
commenting to Roberval on the signal stone's bad timing.  Then
word quietly got out that the Captain would very much like this
trip to be a brief one as he had pressing business with a certain
young lady he met in the forest.  I knew my crew was loyal and
liked their Captain but their actions bring a tear to my eye. 
They pile on the canvas and tack the ship smartly to the solar
wind.  On Mercury, I've never seen the bosun get passengers and
equipment loaded and stowed so quickly before.  It seems as if
one moment the Mercurian scientists and the crated device are on
the docks of Mariner Tum, the Capitol of Mercury, and the next
they're stashed aboard and we are underway again.  Even though
the two planets are at apogee, the H.M.S. Nemesis sets a new
Mercury-Venus speed record.
     It's not soon enough for me, though.  The whole trip I'm
pacing the deck looking over the navigator's shoulder,
calculating the remaining travel time and wondering if we could
possibly squeeze more sail on the masts.  Her "yes" can't come
soon enough for me.  What seems like ages to me, we finally land
on the river Avon and tie up at the docks of Ephesos.
     What is really surprising, is that I look down at the
official delegation to receive the Mercurian scientists and
Aphrodite is not among them.  Strange, you'd think she'd be there
to greet me the moment I got in.  'Ah, she must have wanted it to
be private,' I tell myself but suddenly I'm filled with a sense
of dread.  I go through the motions of introducing the Mercurians
to the Venusians and the Terrans who are there but throughout it
all, I am distracted by questions, apprehensions, and doubt. 
Finally, I'm to a point where I can turn things over to Roberval. 
He takes control with barely a nod.  Then, I'm off running back
to the palace as fast as I did when I last left there only this
time it is with desperation, not eagerness that I run.
     The guards at the gate permit me admittance with the
strangest of looks and my dread grows.  I'm led inside the main
hall taken before Aphrodite in her chambers.  She stares out the
window at the falling rain.  Without looking back, she dismisses
the handmaiden that brought me in.  When we are alone, she turns
to look at me with eyes red from crying.  I start forward to take
her in my arms when she holds up a hand stopping me.  A simple
gesture brings me to a halt as if I'd slammed into a brick wall. 
With a trembling lip and tears forming at the corners of her
eyes, she says the last word I expected to hear from her, "No."
     I'm stunned.  My mouth is dry as if I had been given a death
sentence.  I struggle to think, to breathe, finally I'm only able
to force a single word past my lips, "Why?"
  "I... go, it's ended for us.  We can never be together."
  "Why?  Do your parents object?  I can be whatever they want. 
If I am not noble enough, I can obtain a title.  Am I not rich
enough?  I'll meet whatever bride price they ask."
  "No, it's not them.  They love you . . .   I love you," she
cries helplessly, "it's . . . "  Then she falls silent and bites
her lip as if she's fearful she'll say more.
  "Say it," I plead, "whatever it is, we can handle together. 
I'd do anything for you."
  "No, there's nothing you can do," she says looking up at me,
"there's nothing anyone can do."  I look into her eyes and they
are pits of despair.  I see a longing in them but she truly has
no hope.
     What could possibly do this to her?  What could make her, a
Senshi, feel so helpless?  Then, I know.  "You went and looked in
that damned mirror, didn't you?" I demand, "Is that it?"
  "No, please, just go," she pleads, "this is painful enough as
it is."
  "It's painful to send me away?"  I ask, "Then don't do it. 
Tell me to stay."
  "I..." she hesitates.
  "When, I fell from the sky and you saved me it was the luckiest
day of my life.  Please, we are fated to be together."
  "Fate . . . " she says listlessly.  Her eyes are full of tears
as she says, "Go.  I don't want to see you any more."
     I ignore her command and sweep her up in my arms and
encircle her in a tender embrace.  I hold her close, murmuring
that everything will be all right.  For a moment, she just cries
passively but then, she gathers herself and pushes me away from
her with her magical might.  I seize her hands to try and hold
on, but she slips them from my grasp leaving me standing there
holding the ring I gave her.
     I just stand there looking at the precious stone that
glitters in the light.  I've offered her everything but she casts
it aside like garbage and she won't even tell me why.  It must
have been the Mirror!  Without another word, I leave.  Almost
oblivious to my surroundings, I depart the palace and head toward
the Venusian Wonder of the Ancients.
     I stalk down the avenue toward the Cathedral of the
Reflection; I'll get to the bottom of this.  I'll find out what
she saw and straighten everything out.  I'm not afraid of what
the future will hold.  Never have been, never will.  When I come
back to her, I'll be able to talk about what I saw and she'll
change her mind.  I just have to find out what the Mirror has in
it for us and everything will be all right.  Yes, I tell myself,
everything will be all right.  As I leave the palace, it starts
to rain again.

     On the south side of Ephesos, I set out down the only road
on Venus: "The way of the image."  As I go, I pass pilgrims
returning from the Cathedral, couples arm in arm, families, the
curious golden robed acolytes who always walk alone.  I ignore
them all as I single-mindedly head toward my destination.  I'll
find out just what she saw.
     The Cathedral of the Reflection is a large structure made of
black granite.  The arches and towers sweep up into the sky with
flying buttresses holding up the high roof.  Oddly, no images of
either men or beasts adorn the walls like other churches.  Not a
single saint, god or gargoyle mars the odd geometry of the
structure.  Compared to the rounded, domed buildings of the city,
the angles and points of the cathedral look alien.
     I stride past the golden robed acolytes that stand at the
open doors.  They make no reaction to my belligerent behavior as
though I am nothing new.  I go through the foyer past ante rooms
where someone moans as though wounded unto death.  I ignore the
poor soul; I have my own problems to deal with.  Down the hall I
go, past small cells where I hear the whispered prayers and
chanting mantras of monks and nuns who gazed into the mirror and
found despair.
     Finally, I step past the sold gold inner doors to the main
sanctuary.  Thin obsidian windows dampen the diffuse outside
light so that the feeble illumination of candles is required to
see one's reflection.  I stop by the altar inside the door and
pick up a candle so that I may see.
     A cry of joy makes me glance over at a young couple that
stands before the mirror.  They hold a candle between them and
they look back and forth euphorically between themselves and
their reflections in the smooth surface.  He extinguishes the
candle and draws her into a tender, loving embrace.  They sigh in
contentment and walk away from the mirror arm in arm.  So
enraptured by the vision are they that they stagger, drunk with
their happy futures.
     Angrily, I seize the lantern that the candles are to be lit
from and stalk over toward the Ancient Wonder.  A golden robed
acolyte moves to stop me but I push him aside.  The hood falls
back from the acolyte's face and I see that it is a beautiful
woman with long black hair.  She turns away from me and the
light.  More, she turns away from the Mirror afraid that she
might see her reflection in the light I hold.  Let her hide, I'm
not afraid of what is there.  I unhood the lantern and hold it up
high so that I may plainly see what has frightened off Aphrodite:
Senshi Venus: the woman I love more than my life.
     I look into the mirror and I see . . .  myself . . .  alone
. . .  forever.

     There's nobody else . . . 
     
     just . . . 

     me.

     For interminable moments, I'm held by my reflection.  Then,
I let out a shout of rage and bash my fist against the polished,
golden surface of the Mirror.  I drop the lantern to the rocky
floor and it shatters spreading a small pool of flaming oil at my
feet.  The fire causes my drenched clothing to hiss and steam but
I ignore the steam and smoke as I attack the damned golden thing.
Again and again, I punch the unyielding smooth metal until my
knuckles bleed.  I can shatter stone, bend steel, snap timbers
like twigs with my bare hands but the Mirror is, like all the
Wonders of the Ancients, completely indestructible.  I don't give
a damn!  I step back and throw myself at the  monolith determined
to tear it down . . .  to destroy this awful fate of mine.
     The acolytes say nothing, they just stand there and let me
attack the golden wall until I exhaust myself.  The fire consumes
the oil and dies as my rage consumes my strength.  At last, I
fall to the ground in a heap of misery.  I lay there for many
minutes sobbing in exhaustion and despair.  Gently, but firmly,
they lift me from the ground and carry me from the presence of
the mirror.
     They lay me in an anteroom on a comfortable couch but I
immediately heave myself to my feet and flee this accused place. 
At the door, I fling the costly engagement ring into a jar for
collections there.  If she does not want it, it is poison to me
now.  Outside the temple, it is raining again but I am already
drenched in sweat and tears.  I used to believe the Ancients were
benevolent but only the cruelest, most wicked of beings could
have created such a thing and left it for us to find.
     I don't know for how long I wander in the downpour but I
find myself at the gates to the palace.  I should be welcome here
but the guards deny me entrance now.  I rattle the gates and cry
out to my love within.  For a moment, I can see her at a window
and I call her name but she turns away and lets the drapes close. 
I stand there in a trance, devastated.  While I was with her, I
never felt so full.  Now, I don't think I could ever feel any
emptier.
     I stay there, I don't know how long, maybe for hours, maybe
for days.  I vaguely notice the rain stop and then start again
but I really don't pay that much attention.  Then, someone places
a cloak over my shoulders.  I look and see that it is Roberval. 
"Captain," he says in a firm voice without pity or reproach,
"it's time to return to the ship.  You have your duties to do."
     "Duty . . . " I rumble.  "Yes," I agree as I straighten up,
"I have my duty."  We turn from the palace and fall into step as
we march back to the ship.  I have my position and my ship to
look after.

  Aye, I have my duty . . .  that and nothing else now.

                    *         *         *



     Venus stands next to the roof door and busily works a lock
pick into the dead bolt.  With a smug smile, she turns the knob
and opens the door.  Wanting to get ahead of her to prevent her
from charging headlong into something, I dash inside.
     Artemis, not to be left behind (but more to get out of the
rain), dashes inside with me. Venus joins us moments later after
closing the door.  A catwalk extends from the landing and cris-crosses
the ceiling the stairs lead down to the warehouse floor. 
Shelves and boxes of goods obscure our view of the truck.  Venus
motions me and Artemis to go down the stairs while she takes the
catwalk.  I'm about to voice my objections when she places a
finger to my lips silencing me.  The unexpected contact stuns me,
and a wave of memories wash over me.  Taking my stillness for
acceptance, smiles and quietly moves away on the catwalk.  To
her, this is all some game.  Cursing myself quietly for being
slowed by ten thousand year old memories, the cat and I go down
the stairs.  As we go, Artemis eyes me suspiciously as I mutter
to myself.
     Artie and I split up, he goes around some shelves and I lose
sight of him.  Why are we acting like a bunch of comic book crime
fighters?  All we had to do was wait for the cops to come and
investigate.  That is, unless the police are on the payroll.  Hm,
maybe Venus was right about this.  Of course, this could just be
a rush order of auto parts for all I know.
     My ruminations are cut short by the "CA-CHACK" of a round
being chambered in an AK-47.  (I know the sound, I've got a gun-nut
buddy in Atlanta who has one and it sounds just like that.) 
"Hands up!"  A very mean sounding voice exclaims.  I slowly raise
my hands above my head, my umbrella in the left.  "Turn around,"
he orders.  I do so and am facing a very clean cut thug.  He is
dressed in jeans and a black T-shirt.  Tattoos cover his arms,
typical markings of the Yakuza.  However, his AK-47 looks like a
cheap Chinese Norinco knock off of the real thing.  Hm, gun
smuggling from China?  That is interesting.
     He hesitates for a moment as the takes in my costume: black
trench coat, grey fedora, tuxedo and black mask.  "Who are you?"
He demands.  "Would you believe, the Spirit?"  I ask.  He doesn't
get the American cultural reference, but just motions me to walk
toward the truck with his gun.  The second his gun twitches off
me, I activate my magic umbrella.  One of the many strange things
about the magic that transforms me into Trenchcoat Mask is that I
am equipped with a magic umbrella that can expand in size and
length and is as sturdy as if it were made of steel.  The crooked
handle shoots out and pops the thug in the chest like a battering
ram sending him flying.  He's just a normal guy, so he's knocked
cold instantly.  However, his rifle goes off when he hits the
floor.  Damn!  Hasn't anybody heard of a safety?  At that point,
the shouting begins.
     "How dare you bring guns to the peaceful shores of this
land," I hear Venus shouting, "I am beautiful, mysterious, Sailor
V.  For defying the laws of this land I will punish you."  I run
down the isle hoping beyond hope that nothing happens to her.  A
guard suddenly leaps out from behind some boxes and levels his
rifle at me.  My hand is a blur as it passes underneath my coat
and pulls out a yellow rose.  I throw it at him with unerring
aim; The stem flies down the barrel of the gun, blocking it.  The
dolt fires it anyway, causing it to blow up in his face.  He goes
down stunned by the blast.  Ahead of me, I hear the reports of
rifles and the meaty sounds of fist striking flesh.  I dash onto
the scene, and behold Venus dancing gracefully around, trouncing
the bad guys with ballet-like boots to the head.  Before I can
join in, the lot of them are sprawled at her feet, unconscious or
otherwise incapacitated.  She smiles a smile of triumph for a
second before she points her finger in the air, lowers it at me
and says, "Venus Crescent Beam!"  The beam flies past my head to
collapse some shelves on a group of thugs behind me.  "You've
really got to get more practice at this," she chides me
playfully.
     Her smile evaporates when she feels the muzzle of a gun
pressed to the back of her head and a voice rasps, "Don't Move!" 
The leader of these criminals was hiding in the back of the truck
and chose this opportunity to act.  In a second I could put a
rose through his brain, but that would not be fast enough, to
save her.
     "I surrender," I call dropping my umbrella and raising my
hands, "just don't hurt her."  If I can distract him for just a
moment, get that gun off her head, that will be all the opening
either of us needs.  Her lightning reflexes would get her out of
the way or allow her to incapacitate him.  He's a crafty one,
however and keeps the automatic pressed up against her head.
  "On the ground, now!" he screams at me.  I drop flat to the
floor.
  Come on, I think, shoot that thing at me.  Anything less than
right between the eyes and I could still rip his lungs out.  Come
on . . .  point that gun at me, not at her.  "I called, the
police," I say hoping to irritate or distract him, "they'll be
here any minute."
  "Shut up!"  he yells, "say one more word from you and she
dies."  Damn, its not working, he's just getting more tense.
     Suddenly, a blur of white strikes his hand knocking the gun
away.  Artemis sinks his teeth into the fleshy part of the thug's
hand causing him to howl in pain.  In the instant it takes me to
hurl my rose and Venus to turn, he swats Artemis off and the gun
goes off.  There is a splash of blood on white fur and Artemis
falls limply to the floor.  The gun goes flying from the thug's
fist, a red rose imbedded in the steel.  He doesn't have time to
yell about his broken fingers because Venus fiercely kicks him in
the jaw.  His head whips around and teeth fly everywhere as he
collapses in a heap.
     "Artemis . . . " Venus chokes in horror as she crouches over
her fallen friend.  The bullet wound paints a red gash across the
cat's side.  A drool of blood escapes from the cat's mouth as he
breathes raggedly.  Desperately, Venus turns to me with pleading
tear-rimmed eyes.  "Artemis was going to take me to the other
Senshi.  Sailor Moon has the Crescent Moon Wand.  I don't know if
that can help but, can you take us to them?"
  "I..." I look at the ghastly bullet wound and say, "We could
never reach them in time."
     She holds the mortally wounded cat to her breast and weeps. 
"Please don't die," she begs the fading creature.  Her body
shakes as it is racked by sobs of grief.  Artemis' body twitches
and trembles indicating imminent death.  I'm helpless to do
anything.
     Then it hit hits me like lightning, the flask!  The flask of
the Elixir of Life!  When I first became Trenchcoat Mask, I used
the Elixir of Life on Endymion when he reawakened me.  There
might be some left.  "Wait!" I exclaim. I reach into my pocket
and pull out the ornate ceramic flask.  Unstoppering it, I hold
it over Artemis and say to Venus, "Hold his mouth open, this
could save him."  She gently pries open the cat's jaws as I upend
the flask.  A small dribble of the clear fluid flows into
Artemis' mouth.  He reflexively swallows it and I pray that it is
enough.  The seconds crawl by as we look for any sign that it is
working.  Her lip trembles as she clings to this straw of hope I
have given her.  Then, Artemis stops shaking and lies still.
     She buries her face in his still form and wails in despair,
"He's dead!  My wonderful cat is dead!"  She sobs inconsolably at
her loss.  Gently, I encircle her with my arms and hold her with
all the love I had for her ten thousand years ago.  My heart
breaks for her all over again.  Doing my best to comfort her, I
hold her as she weeps for her friend and I weep for her grief and
pain.
     "Me-OW!  That hurt!"  Artemis suddenly exclaims from between
us.  We both gape in surprise at the white bundle she holds. 
"Artemis!  You're alive!"  Venus cries in wonderment and hugs the
cat even tighter.
     "Heeeey . . .  Veeeenuuuus . . . " the cat groans,
"eaaaaseeee . . .  uuuup."
     "Oh sorry," she says giving the poor feline some air.  Her
tears turn to those of joy as she strokes his bloodstained fur. 
I run my hand over what once was a gaping wound and marvel to
find it completely healed.  There is no hit of scarring from the
mortal wound that was there only minutes before.
     "How do you feel?"  I ask him.
     "A little hungry," he answers, "you wouldn't happen to have
a can of tuna in one of your pockets, would you?"
     "You're joking," I say, "right?"  I notice the ghost of a
smile on the cat's lips.
     Venus sniffs and laughs and rumples his fur affectionately. 
"Oh, cat," she says "tonight you get all the fish you can eat."
     The sound of sirens breaks up this touching scene.  "The
cops,"  I say, "Let's get out of here."  We dash up the stairs
and exit to the roof just as the police break down the door. 
They catch a glimpse of us as we are leaving.  I wonder if news
of Sailor-V's arrival will make the news tomorrow.
     We leap over several rooftops to one where we can observe
the police rounding up the bad guys.  The rain has stopped and we
stand there for a moment taking in the sight.  The boys in blue
are throwing the thugs in a paddy wagon while the leader is
hauled away in an ambulance.  "Look's like pistol-boy is due for
a little long term hospitalization," I say, "Good."  I look over
at Venus and notice that she's staring at me.
     "You remind me of someone who wears grey," She says looking
at me speculatively.
     I'm so staggered by what she says that I almost fall off the
roof.  Does she really remember me?   Is she recalling a memory
of me in my Guardian greys?  "I... I do?" I ask hopefully.
     "Yes," she says, "I met a crime fighter in England by the
name of Gray.  Are you two related?"
     "Ah . . .  no," I say barely able to cover my
disappointment, "no relation, sorry."
     "He had the same secretive attitude you do.  You're not
going to tell me who you really are either, are you?"
     "No," I admit, "no for a while yet at any rate."  I add,
"Tuxedo Kamen is the key.  When he can be open with you, then so
can I.  Until then, I must forbear telling you or the other
Senshi anything about me."
     "Well, we are on the same side, right?  You want to stop
Beryl, Dark Lord Calcite and the Dark Kingdom as much as we do."
     "Yes, I . . . " I say and then add, "who is Dark Lord
Calcite?"
     "I guess it doesn't matter," she answered, "he hasn't shown
up since I left England."
     That little fact reminds me to check up on Usagi's other
friends and find out which ones have been traveling of late. 
Those thoughts bring me down to earth.  Tonight's events
underscore that despite her edge, Venus is probably just a little
girl like the other Senshi.  Damn, why did Beryl have to come
now?  A few years later and it'd be a different story.  Venus is
staring at me as I look at her speculatively.  I'd better wrap
this up.
  "Well, it looks like this is where we part company for now, I
don't doubt our paths will cross again."
  "I'll look forward to it," she says with her trademark smile. 
At that, she and Artemis leap to a nearby rooftop. "Goodbye," she
says flashing a 'V' for 'Victory' (or is it 'V' for 'Venus?) sign
at me, and runs off into the night.
  "Remember me," I find myself whispering.  Was that a farewell
or a prayer?
     After running down several side streets and circling back to
make sure I'm not followed, I wend my way back to my apartment
monumentally depressed.  Aphrodite . . .  Venus, recalls nothing
of me nor even the reason she sent me away.  Damn!  Am I even to
be denied that simple closure?  What's just as bad is that her
appearance will probably not add much to the Senshi's abilities. 
Physically, she's a magical powerhouse, intellectually, she's
just a naive school girl too.
     What's worse is that she possesses a bravado almost got her
killed.  It wasn't even by Beryl or one of her minions but by a
common thug with a pimp-pistol thirty-eight.  All she had to do
to stop them was make a simple phone call and wait.  The Senshi
are severely lacking in their strategic thinking.
     Is that why Endymion has kept apart from them?  To observe
and pick up the pieces.  That seems to be what he's doing, but
why?  There's no two ways about it; I've got to find the prince
now!  If they continue to act rashly, it's only a matter of time
until Beryl gets her hands on the Ginzuishou.
     I slump down in the chair next to my little work table.  If
I'm going to be of help, I've got to be on hand when the Dark
Kingdom strikes.  For that, I'll need to fix my detector.  I
putter around my kitchen and put a pot of coffee on.  I've got a
lot of work ahead of me to stop Beryl and protect the Senshi from
themselves . . .  by any means necessary.


Notes:

Thanks goes out to all members of SME for suggestions and
support.

Grey and Dark Lord Calcite are from Mark Latus' "Dark Kingdom
Renegades."  It tells the story of what Minako was doing in
England, among other things.

The WTMG Weatherman is the same as the one in
"Too Many Girlfriends" but I could never find out his Japanese
name.

Those blimps in Yumani's paintings always bugged me and I
just had to straighten that out.

Sorry to make such a big deal over this but after I had Ferrite
agonzing so much over Aphroditie in chapter five and seven
I had to justify him being so broken up.

If you were in a good mood when you started to read this
chapter and I spoiled it or depressed you, apologies are offered.
I really didn't think it was that bad.