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 Posted: Fri Jan 17, 2014 10:34 pm
Part I - Somewhere They Can't Find Me
It was quiet at the Outpost, as it always was. Aquarius took a minute to catch her breath, the last part of their argument replaying in her head. Kent was planning to leave her with their parents. For most people, this wouldn’t be a big deal. It was normal, really. Despite the fact that she lived with Kent, he had never been her legal guardian, and she knew that most of the decisions he’d made, he’d made after talking with their parents. And that was okay. Even though they argued frequently, Tara loved her parents. Even her mother, who was on the receiving end of most of Tara’s yelling and whining, and some bitterness. Their values had always been different. For years, she’d felt that Kent understood her more than either parent could, and would advocate for her if she needed him to.
Now, she was unsure. In spite of the fact that she was almost twenty-one, and clearly a legal adult, she had no delusions about her level of autonomy. Her family wasn’t about to let her go off on her own, not after Barren Pines. She knew that she wasn’t the only one who had suffered then. She could still see the shadows of that time in their faces, especially when she was particularly anxious. Which was most of the time, now. They worried about her worrying, and feared her her disappearing again. Well, she was afraid of that too, but was it worth living under her parents’ roof again? Giving up what little freedom she had in Destiny City?
Was it worth running from the fight, waiting to be picked off?
None of them knew the real reason she couldn’t leave, and she could never tell them. That would be tantamount to pulling them into the war, to signing their death warrants. One of Tara’s few comforts was the fact that her parents were safe, far away from the battlefield. Kent was closer to the front lines, but so far she’d managed to keep him away from the real danger. As long as they were safe, she could breathe a little easier. If they clung to her like a security blanket, though, that safety would vanish, overridden by her own intrinsic bad luck.
Listen to yourself, she heard herself say. Bad luck. What kind of scientist believes in bad luck?
No, there had to be a scientific explanation for it. Not that she had a clue what it was. In the end, her condition was close enough to fatally bad luck that she didn’t mind using the term. “Or maybe it’s a fatal attraction,” Aquarius joked aloud, standing up straighter. Certainly, she seemed to attract fatal events. Fires, zombies, comas, monsters, and still more. If that wasn’t bad luck, what was it?
She put one hand on the gate of the Outpost, watching in amazement as it opened at her slightest touch. She had plenty of theories on that- maybe they responded to her DNA, or her energy signature- but there were other, more important issues to deal with, so she’d never been able to focus on that particular mystery. Likewise, the scrubs and bushes that grew around the main building of the Outpost, particularly towards the back, had gone unstudied. The tower at the back was totally unexplored. An entrance probably existed, but she had no idea where. From the first time she’d visited, her attention had been on cracking the codes contained within. If there were answers, she felt that they had to be in the books.
But that night, dealing with unreadable text was beyond Aquarius’ ability. Not that she could tell it was night. The Outpost followed its own rules when it came to illumination, and everything else besides. At that moment, it was lit solely by the stars, in a state of half-light that persisted beyond dawn or dusk. Bright enough to see the important things, but not enough light to work in. Which may have explained why she had done so little work outside. It tended to flip between blindingly bright and perpetual twilight, and she had yet to figure out the pattern to the shifts.
“There’s so much I don’t know.” Aquarius let herself into the Outpost’s main building, waiting for a moment as her eyes adjusted to the brighter light inside. Those light sources were yet another mystery that she’d been too busy to crack, and another one that would have to wait. “How can I figure out the mysteries of the universe when I can’t even figure out my own problems?” she demanded, stomping up the tiny staircase in the hallway. The second floor held the library, where she usually worked- or tried to work- on her language studies, despite the mess. It also held the bathroom, kitchen, and pantry. And along opposite walls, identical bedrooms. Once, she had tried to figure out which one might have belonged to her, and who the others might be for. She didn’t remember getting many visitors. Maybe they had all been for show, which would explain the lack of personal effects in each room.
Since they were all the same, Aquarius chose the first one, and flopped down on the bed. She was exhausted. Arguing really took it out of her. All she wanted to do was sleep. The bed was softer than she’d expected, and helped ease her sore muscles somewhat. When the missing people had been there, she’d slept in the library, leaving the rooms to the people who’d been stuck. Having a place like this to crash was kind of nice. She didn’t have to worry about total strangers. She didn’t have to worry about friends or family. All she needed to do was get some rest. Maybe now, after all she’d done, she could even say that she deserved it.
Are you really going to stay here all night?
Aquarius’ eyes opened again, and she bolted upright. Was she going to stay the night? Kent would be frantic if he discovered her gone the next day. But if she went back, she would have to deal with the situation she’d run away from. She still had no answers to his questions. Maybe after some sleep, her mind would be clearer, and she would be able to figure out some way to make everything not suck.
It wasn’t likely. But it was possible, and that bit of hope was all the lullaby Aquarius needed. Within moments, she was fast asleep, content to leave the world behind for a while.
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Posted: Fri Jan 17, 2014 10:36 pm
Part II - In Restless Dreams I Walked Alone
There were no alarm clocks in space. At least, not at Aquarius Outpost. No school looming over her head. No brothers barging in, ripping her from her dreams. Though most of the time, that was a good thing. Tara rarely got a decent night’s sleep. No matter when she went to bed, or what pills she took, nightmares plagued her almost constantly. Aquarius tended to suffer less from them. Though if Aquarius was sleeping at all, it was probably an unusual situation, which might account for the variance.
She woke up slowly, on her own terms. Stretched under the sheets, arching her back and pointing her toes. Practically oozed out of bed like a liquid, gathering on the floor until she had enough energy to stand. She was sort of curious about the time, but didn’t want to break the spell by checking. Instead, she headed to the kitchen, where a few cases of canned food still remained from the donations people had brought. Nothing particularly breakfast-worthy, though. After considering her options, she decided on a small can of cheese ravioli in tomato sauce. Not particularly healthy, but at least it was fully-cooked. With a pop-top, so she didn’t even need the can opener. Or a bowl. Or even a fork. Since she didn’t have to put on manners for anyone, ravioli could be finger food.
It was still eerily quiet, but Aquarius was almost used to that. She popped ravioli bits in her mouth as she went downstairs, tipping the can as if to drink from it when her hand wouldn’t fit inside anymore. There were paper towels in the entrance hall, used for the dry-erase board that had been there. Wiping her hands on them was slightly better than wiping them on her pants. At least this way she wouldn’t leak tomato sauce onto the next thing she sat on. Her hands were still sticky as she left the can on the table, but there was an easy enough solution for that. She kept moving, throwing aside the curtain that separated the entry hall from the atrium. It settled back into place with a soft swishing noise as she moved on, heading for the fountain at the atrium’s center.
It was probably sacrilege, washing her hands in the fountain. Not that they were particularly dirty at this point. She’d washed her feet in it many times before, to get the sand off of them, but the water still looked clean. Aquarius looked up at the statue of the water bearer that stood in the center of the fountain, looking down at her. It was not, to her great relief, her past self. That would have just been too eerie. But then, it was probably some other past self from along the line. Had she been Aquarius, and nothing else, during every rebirth cycle?
“How do you do it? How do I do it? There must be more to life than this.” She waved her arms around at the Outpost, which only moments ago had felt free and liberating. Now she felt trapped and helpless. “I’m more than this! I… I…”
Even though Aquarius wasn’t looking into the water, her vision rippled and blurred. She threw out a hand to steady herself, but there was nothing there. She felt herself stumble backwards and sit down hard on the edge of the fountain. Then, as quickly as it had started, the sensation stopped. Her eyes were able to focus. There was, in fact, a great deal to focus on.
In front of her had been empty space that she had just crossed, leading back to the entrance hall. Now, it was blocked by the long table that usually stood at the side of the room. It was set nicely, with metal plates that she couldn’t remember seeing before, plus utensils and glasses full of clear liquid. Water was a safe guess, considering who and where she was. There was another place set next to her, and two more across the table. A cozy, intimate group. Except that she was the only one there.
Aquarius tried to stand, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t even turn her head to survey the rest of the room. Her gaze was fixed on the entrance hall, as if she was expecting something, or someone.
”They’ll get here when they get here, you know.”
The voice seemed to come out of nowhere, and made her jump. Or it would have, if she was in control of her movements. She could feel her head turn slightly, but not enough to bring the speaker into focus. It was a woman’s voice, coming from a ways behind her. More than that she couldn’t tell.
”I’m aware of that.” This voice seemed to come from herself. It was gruff, stern, and exactly what Aquarius would have expected from the figure she remembered in her mind. This was her past self. Somehow, she had either regressed into him, or was having some kind of past-body experience.
He didn’t wait for her to figure it out before he continued speaking. ”I just want this to go well.” He sounded bored, almost monotonous, but Aquarius could feel a sense of desperation behind his words. It meshed perfectly with her own, which only served to freak her out further.
A hand appeared in her line of vision, resting on her (his?) shoulder. It was a woman’s hand, slender and delicate, with intricate gold bracelets around her wrist. It probably belonged to the other speaker. Aquarius could feel the ghostly sensation of the pressure on her shoulder, and shivered. At least, she tried to shiver, failed, and wanted to do so even more. ”You’re using them as an excuse to change the subject,” she heard, the voice sounding more teasing than scolding. ”Do you dislike talking about it so much?”
”There’s nothing to talk about,” Aquarius felt herself say in that strange harsh voice. ”My life on Uranus was over before it began. The documentation there proves it. According to the records, that man died years ago.” He didn’t sound upset. Just resigned.
The pressure on her shoulder intensified. Apparently the woman didn’t believe him. ”You’re not dead. You’re here right now, doing great things.”
Now he felt uncomfortable, but he didn’t do anything to dislodge the woman’s grip. ”Indeed. But in order for that to happen, the person I was before had to die. That’s how the Zodiac Guard functions. You’re not allowed to have another life. The post becomes your everything. It has to, or you won’t be able to survive it.”
Aquarius felt the pit of her stomach plummet, something that had nothing to do with how her past self was feeling, and everything to do with what he said. Worse still, she could feel how seriously he took this, how resolute he was about it. This wasn’t just an attempt to get the woman to drop the subject. It was, to him, an iron-clad truth.
”And even then,” he went on in a lower, quieter voice, ”survival is far from guaranteed.”
The woman tensed up behind him. He wanted to turn, but couldn’t face her right that moment. All he could do was sit rigidly in the chair and wait for her to speak. When she did, her voice was soft as well. ”And is it your everything?”
”It has to be, he repeated stubbornly. ”There’s too much riding on it.” On me, Aquarius heard him add, silently. She could feel the weight of the world resting on her- his- their shoulders. How it didn’t crush them, she had no idea. He was so lonely, despite the presence of the woman, of the guests he was expecting, of the other warriors of the Zodiac. Their presences were fleeting. In the end, he would be alone, as he always was. He had to be able to carry this burden without anyone's help.
And it was a burden, no matter what he told anyone else. It was an honor to be chosen. He was the right person for the job. It was destiny. Someone had to do it. He knew all of this, and still felt trapped under the weight of his mission. For a man who explored the possibilities of the universe, having his own severed was unbearably crippling. He would never be able to be anything but Aquarius. Even when he lived on Uranus, before his awakening, his path was set. Any other future he’d seen for himself was a lie. There was only one direction for him to travel in, and it led towards his death.
Yet despite all of this, Aquarius felt proud. He may not have had many- or any- options open to him, but that didn’t stop him from performing his tasks well. He didn’t serve the Zodiac Guard with the bitterness of someone who was forced to do so. He served faithfully and loyally, knowing that his only choice would bring happiness to others. The galaxy was safer with him around. Not everybody could claim that. And he managed to have a reach far outside his tiny world, corresponding with others far away, making his imprint on the universe at large. If not for his post, such things would never have been possible for him.
By bearing his duty with pride and honor, he could make it less of an imposition and more of a choice. He could enjoy the benefits it provided him, while putting aside the dangers and the inconveniences. If he tried hard enough, he could almost forget how confined he felt, or how badly he sometimes wanted to run, and never stop. Even in rare moments of peace, his inner self was in constant battle. Duty against dreams. Pride against passion. There was never a winner, and there never would be.
The physical pressure on his shoulder eased, as the hand slowly withdrew. For a moment, Aquarius feared that he had driven her away, and was relieved when she tugged on his shawl, straightening it. ”Is that enough to make you happy?” the woman asked simply.
There was no easy answer for that. Aquarius could feel her mouth open, and knew that no words would come out. This was why he didn’t like to talk about his feelings, even to the few people he suspected would understand. Then, she was distracted by a noise at the entryway. ”It seems our guests have arrived.” The change of subject was most welcome, she could tell. ”I should greet them in person. Future conferences may depend on this.”
She felt him push away from the table, ready to stand and meet his guests, excited about what would happen next. This was a moment of great importance, though she couldn’t quite tell why. It was enough to blot out the discomfort that their conversation had provoked, at least for the moment. All that was left was a knot somewhere deep inside, where he couldn’t reach. It tightened and loosened as his mission fought against his desires. They so rarely acted in concert. But tonight was one of those few nights where he could truly enjoy being Sailor Aquarius.
The chair didn’t move. Aquarius did, and fell backwards, landing with a giant splash in the fountain. She was drenched from head to toe, her sodden clothes weighing down her already heavy body. Getting up was too much of an effort. Thinking was too much of an effort. It almost felt as though breathing was too much of an effort, but that was just ridiculous, and she scolded herself until she felt her lungs begin to work again.
The sound of the water faded to its normal trickle. Tiny ripples brushed against her skin. The voices and the visions were gone. She was, once more, alone with her thoughts. Only now there were so many thoughts that Aquarius didn't feel alone at all. She felt attacked from every angle, mentally bruised and raw. Once her vision cleared and her head stopped spinning, she would go home, and that would be that. Until then, all she could do was sit there, blinking the water out of her eyes and making tiny movements, reassuring herself that this body was still hers to command.
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Posted: Fri Jan 17, 2014 10:37 pm
Part III - Stars Shining Bright Above You
It took a while for Aquarius to haul herself out of the fountain. Every time she tried, she would remember how she had been, in some way, transported to the past. Or she would remember one of the unsettling things her past self had said, or done, or thought. Then her determination would flag and she would sink deeper into the water. Even the cool wetness on her skin, and the clammy clothes that stuck to her, didn’t convince her that she was now back in reality. “Maybe this whole thing has been some kind of warped nightmare,” she suggested, only slightly comforted by the fact that her voice wasn’t grumpy and bitter. Instead, it was high-pitched and had a hint of laughter behind it that was not entirely sane.
”True,” a now-familiar voice said, making her ears ring. ”Given what information you have to work with, such a hypothesis is not outside the realm of possibility. Though I would hardly call it the most likely one.
It was the voice she’d been hearing for weeks, now. The one that told her to get going when she was feeling discouraged, and pushed her to better herself. The one she had just heard coming from her own mouth, though it hadn’t been hers then. Why hadn’t she realized it before? In retrospect, it felt overwhelmingly obvious who her mystery conscience had been.
The real question was, why did it feel like she was hearing it for real?
Aquarius looked up, brushing drops of water off of her eyelashes with the back of her hand. Her vision was still blurry, but not due to some sort of out of body experience. At least, she didn’t think that was what was happening. But what other explanation was there for what she was hearing? “An aural hallucination,” she decided. “The ravioli was contaminated. This whole thing is because of E. coli or something.”
”Also possible,” the voice agreed. ”Unlikely, considering the number of chemical preservatives in the meal, but possible nonetheless.”
“Stop!” Aquarius shrieked, putting her hands over her ears and bowing her head. She didn’t want to be hearing what she was hearing. And she definitely didn’t want to see what she thought she had just seen. Because it wasn’t possible. Nor was it the fun kind of impossible. It was bad and scary and she wanted it to go away.
The voice- that was all it was, a voice- let out a huffy breath. ”If that’s all the thanks I get for my efforts, I’m not sure why I bothered. Then again, I’m not sure why I’m here anyway. Which is only natural, since you don’t know why I’m here either, do you?”
There was silence after that. Aquarius waited for several moments, until she was sure that the only noise was the gurgling of the fountain. Then, once she was convinced that she had halted whatever nonsense her brain was trying to pull on her, she uncovered her ears. She raised her head. And she screamed, one sharp note that echoed in the vast chamber of the atrium.
Sailor Aquarius sat on the edge of the fountain, looking at her with a rather baffled expression. He looked just as she remembered: sharp features, piercing eyes, neatly-trimmed beard. The fuku fit him perfectly, the star-covered shawl neatly draped over his broad shoulders, while the sash clung to his abdomen. Even with the tiara and necklaces and lacy sleeves, he didn’t look at all feminine. In fact, he looked powerful, and rather foreboding. She imagined that she would be intimidated by him even if he was supposed to be there.
But he wasn’t, so what in the name of the moon was going on? “You. You’re dead.”
Sailor Aquarius was unimpressed by this observation. He raised his eyebrows, unwilling to dignify it with a response. “I mean, you are dead, right?” The slightest tilt of the head was the only answer he provided. “Are you back from the dead? Are you replacing me?” Could he do that? He hadn’t seemed too thrilled with the job before, assuming that her vision had been real. But he was way better at it than she was.
He was disappointed in the question, she could tell. ”I am not, as you put it, ‘back from the dead.’ And I can’t replace you. I am you. Therefore, I am already Aquarius.” He raised one eyebrow again, looking her over critically. ”At least, in theory.”
Oh god. She was being harassed by the ghost of her dead self. What the hell. How was this possible, if it wasn’t some sort of delusion? What did it mean, if it wasn’t some guilt trip gone awry? And most importantly, how was she supposed to get rid of him?
”You can’t get rid of me,” Sailor Aquarius stated, with the air of someone who was tired of answering the same question. “I am you. Thus, you are me. Even if you died, and your starseed was reborn as someone else, I would still be you. And so would you. Getting rid of me would be tantamount to annihilating yourself, which is something I know you have no desire to do. Because,” he went on, before she could ask how he knew that, ”I. Am. You. I know what you know. And now, you know what I know. Or some of it, at any rate.”
This was more than Aquarius was able to deal with. So she did what she always did when faced with circumstances she couldn’t handle, something that she was very good at: she ran. Heaving herself out of the fountain, splashing the mosaics and skidding on the wet ground, she ran. She didn’t consciously notice that she passed through the other Aquarius’ legs, or that he vanished as soon as she stopped looking at him. She simply ran, tearing through the curtains, almost breaking down the door in her hurry.
Then she was outside. It was still dusk, or dawn; the stars illuminated the large structures, but not the intricate details. Which was fine. Aquarius had already seen more than she wanted to. Sand clung to her wet legs as she trudged across the densely-packed ground, heading towards… what, exactly? There was no destination in mind. Her only goal was getting as far away from that crazy guy pretending to be her.
”I’m not pretending.” The voice, coming from in front of her now, sounded insulted. ”And if I am crazy, it’s because you are. Which would not surprise me, honestly. Sanity has never been a requirement for this job. There’s only so much that can be done to preserve it. Eon tried, good man, but you don’t have him. And there’s only so much that the Princess can do.” Sailor Aquarius sighed. ”It seems I’ve come too late.”
Ah-ha, an opening! “You, you’ve come! That means you weren’t always here, which means you’re not me, so you’re lying!” Was this some sort of Negaverse attack? A result of too many sleeping pills? There had to be a logical explanation.
She’d managed to annoy him again, that much was clear. He folded his arms as he walked towards her. ”I meant the term ‘come’ to apply in a more loose fashion. It is true that I’ve always been here, inside you.” He tapped Aquarius’ chest, and she was startled to feel a ghostly sensation there, like what she had felt during the vision. ”I’m still there, and I will always be there. But I was not always at the forefront of your mind like this, speaking to you directly. I thought that subconscious support would be enough. Clearly, I was mistaken.”
Again, she remembered the voice that she’d been hearing in her mind. Telling her to patrol even when she didn’t want to, encouraging her when she began to lose hope. She had thought it was a particularly guilty conscience making itself known. Now she wasn’t so sure. “I’m a senshi,” she babbled. “We don’t get ancestor ghosts talking to us.” That was, she had thought, strictly a knight thing.
”I am not your ancestor!” Sailor Aquarius was trying to sound forceful, but really just sounded petulant. “For the last time, I am you. I’m not haunting you, I am you.” He grabbed her chin with both hands, keeping her from looking away. ”I am you. Understand?”
Aquarius nodded, then shook her head, jerking it out of his grasp. “No, I don’t! I don’t understand any of this! How can this be happening? What are you supposed to be doing, talking to me like this?”
Finally, she had asked a question that he approved of. ”As I said before, I don’t know how this works, because you don’t know. I can’t explain how I’m here. But I can tell you why. I’m here because you need help. Guidance. You have no one to turn to. You’ve even turned away from yourself. And so, I have come- out of your mind, that is- to show you what you need to know.”
At first, the only words that resonated with her were ‘out of your mind.’ If this wasn’t a sign that she was seriously mentally ill, what was it? Yet she couldn’t write it off as a delusion anymore. Not after the way he argued with her, countered her points. This was too difficult a fight for it to be a figment of her imagination. Besides, in the greater scheme of things, how could she write this off as an anomaly? She was a magical warrior in space. That her past self would come to offer guidance- which, she had to admit, was desperately needed- was not something that far outside the realm of possibility. Odd? Decidedly. But far from the oddest thing that had ever happened to her.
“Is this really on the level?” she asked nervously. Because if she accepted that this was reality, she accepted that she was far more lost than she knew how to deal with. “You’re going to help me?”
Sailor Aquarius’ eyes widened, then narrowed. “That’s why I’m here. Out here, that is. To share my wisdom with you. If you'll forgive the fanciful image, I am the star lighting your way, showing you the path to take. Which does not involve running in fright, or hiding from your duty. Quite frankly, I’m ashamed of some of the decisions you’ve made.”
Whatever relief Aquarius had been starting to feel was quickly dispelled by these words. Anger replaced them. How dare this guy criticize her actions? Even if he was her- which she wasn’t sure she believed yet- that didn’t give him the right to pass judgement on her.
”On the contrary, it gives me exactly that right.” Aquarius didn’t even ask how he knew what was going on in her mind. It was, she supposed, one of the pieces of evidence that supported his claim. ”Only you are qualified to judge yourself. And I am you. Have I expressed any opinion that you have never considered?” He took her silence as an answer and nodded imperiously, which only made her angrier still. ”I didn’t take you for the type of person who lashed out at everything beyond her understanding. The times certainly have changed.”
That cowed her into a different kind of silence. He was, frustratingly, right again. She had been fighting the things that confused her, because she was of them. That was a terrible attitude to take. She would not be one of the people who shunned the truth because she was too scared to understand. She was a Galileo, not a persecutor. Somehow, she would figure out what was going on, and she would use that knowledge to change the world.
”That is much more like it.”
“And so,” Aquarius said aloud, “I think I’m good now! Thanks for the push, alternate-me, but I can handle things from here.” The first step was to resolve things with her brother, somehow. He had always been reasonable before. If she explained why she didn’t want to leave Destiny City, while carefully omitting the magical details, he would have to understand. With that settled, she pulled out her phone and slid out the keyboard. She spared a moment’s glance for the clock, and was surprised to see that it was still quite early. Even though it hadn’t been the plan, she might get home before Kent woke up.
”No,” the other Aquarius murmured, watching with interest while his successor focused on her phone. ”No, this isn’t over yet. I wouldn’t be here if it was that easy. There’s more to it than-”
The song of the earth came into focus, and she pushed the ‘home’ key. Aquarius and Aquarius vanished, leaving the Outpost truly silent once more.
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