Welcome to Gaia! ::

2/01/05

The streets of Gaia were full of hustle and bustle, but to Emperial, her universe extended only as far as her nose. It was currently buried between the pages of a paperback novel. So while the people around her chatted and browsed the shops, she explored the expanses of potential universes filled with aliens and asteroids, all found within the space of a seven by four inch page.

She was so engrossed by her book she scarcely seemed to be aware of where she was going. Towards the unopened PietTech store, presumably, since that was where she had been heading when she left the house, but there was no harm in taking an unorthodox route. So she kept moving in what was vaguely the right direction, choosing streets based on the level of traffic.

Her sense of navigation was superb. Somehow she always knew how to get where she was going even if she took the wrong road. But then, she had been trained as an interstellar navigator once, so what trouble could Gaian streets give her?

If only she had stayed on the streets.

As she turned a page, she turned into a building. This was not the first time she had mistaken an entryway for an alleyway. She simply looked up from her book (page 329) to discern her location and look for the way back out. "Heyy..."

She was surrounded by books. Nevermind she was supposed to meet Tuthau at the store. This seemed like a far more interesting adventure by far! Emperial noted her page again (three-two-nine, three-two-nine) and shoved the book underneath her arm.

Most of the light in the building are shut off, either because the previous occupant actually remembered to turn them off, or they simply hadn't been fixed yet. [Pippin would fix them, no sweat! .. Except for that whole baby thing, y'know, it threw him off track a little for home repairs.]

The floorboards quiver under any sort of weight; the seem to inhale and exhale softly with the footsteps. Other than that, and one intriguing kitchen light left on, there seems to be nothing but dust bunnies inhabiting this place.

Emperial debated calling out a hullo, then decided she wasn't going to disturb anything and the place wasn't locked or anything like that, so there was no reason for her to not be here. A pen light attached to her keychain quickly illuminated the titles of nearby books on the shelves. Nothing particularly notable, but some nice bindings.

The creak of the boards under her feet gave Emperial pause and she slipped out of her shoes. Even she thought it was not a problem for her to be here, she sensed a sort of stillness in the place that merited discretion. She strung the sandals onto a cord on her keychain and let them dangle to her side. Cumbersome but suitable for her purposes.

The floorboards now became more of interest than the nondescript books. She tested each and every one with care, hesitating when she heard the beginning of a creak, figuring out where the quieter areas of floor lay. It was a game she often played in the wee hours of the night when she needed to sneak downstairs without notice. She totally gave up on plotting a course, though she did keep in mind the trail behind her. (Not that it wasn't easy enough to spot her tiny footsteps in the dust.) Clearly, the fun lay in the journey and not the destination.

Not long after paying interest to the books on the shelves did the noise start. The shelves, which seem to be quickly thrown together and messily built (as well as slightly crooked) seem to give the living space a more earthy feel. The dust, while an added feature, shows up more in odd places, perhaps evidence of livelihood and energy throughout the building earlier in the day.

The house grows unnervingly still; the silence would be unbearable, considering the recent noises of the outdoors and the tired old building. A single light, the one from the kitchen, is the only thing that breaks the darkness, but oddly enough it seems to illuminate an exact path straight ahead.

A silence only falls upon the single occupant. Had anyone else been present, they would still hear the rustle of trees, the aching noises of the house.. but for this one person there is merely one sound that fills their head.

It isn't able to be traced to one particular sound; rather, it could be catagorized as something similar to a record or CD skipping occasionally, breaking apart at certain intervals. The sounds, not so much music as absolute ear-aching noise, grow stronger at the rear of the building, pulsing out from under a heavy sliding door.

Emperial found herself standing before the sliding door at the end of her erratic pathway and noticed the noise. She shook her head to be rid of it. It was familiar, the sort of noise that often rose unbidden in the back of her head, persistent and nagging. When the shake failed to dislodge it, she stuck her finger in her ear and tried to brush it away.

Then she was balancing on one foot, leaning to the side and shaking her head as she wrestled with her ear. She gave a slight hop and the shooes hanging off her belt knocked into the door. Emperial was too preoccupied to notice.

The door withdraws into the walls, creating the illusion that the entire door had actually fell down the stairs. A noise confirms this false event, with a loud slam interrupting the already-present annoyance in the ears of the targetted. Silently, or at least not noticable to the target in this little game, the walls thoroughly enjoy this cat and mouse game.

Just down the stairs now.. it never fails. Down, and you'll be trapped, your future eternally changed. That's it, just down those steps..

There is a single light at the end of the spiral staircase, a flickering bare lightbulb constantly threatening to die. The noise battering at the target's ears eases gently, not quite as bitterly annoying now, but still crackling in and out of consciousness.

Emperial's mouth fell open. In her mind, the words "oh my gods" formed, but so complete was her panic they never made it to her lips. She turned on her heel, prepared to run.

And stopped dead in her tracks. They would know someone had been in here. It could not be more obvious, and to compound it, there were her perfect little footsprints in a line leading from the entrance to this broken door. A second little voice in her head spoke: "Calm, calm." She took a deep breath and, trembling, tried to think of a way out of it.

Footprints were far more damning than shoeprints. If there were an investigation, they could match those prints to her with undeniable accuracy.

But if there were nothing broken or out of place they would have no need to investigate. Oh, so someone wandered in, but they touched nothing and stole nothing and wandered back out, and it's our own fault for leaving the door open.

Emperial peered down where the door had apparently gone but could make out nothing. The light was simply not strong enough for her vision condition. She could see only the light bulb and a haze of static.

The door hadn't been that heavy. Look how easily it had fallen? she could drag it back up the stairs no problem. Maybe. There was the bulk to consider... and she considered it as she carefully stepped down the stairs, toes feeling for the dimensions of each step where her eyes failed her.

Once a safe distance of, oh, two or three steps down had been reached, the walls snap to life. Behind this unfortunate victim the sliding door snaps across with the sound of wood crashing against more wood, followed by a sickening click of a lock. This crash can now be heard by the victim, as all excess and distracting noise used as bait clears up like someone had simply pulled the plug.

There is no door at the bottom of the stairs. Any way back out seems to have to be ruled out now.

The only path now is down.

Down, down those stable stairs. The surroundings are mirky black, hazed as if someone were walking through a thin morning fog. Perhaps it could be passed off as being musty, but there is no smell to follow that assumption. At the bottom of the stair in a beam of faint light from the single lightbulb.. as well as the Entrance Doors.

These doors are enormous, impossibly tall and engraved with markings of etched leaves and vine designs. The door handle itself is carved to look like a thick vine ending in a lucious fresh leaf, but all decorations are in a very old and untreated gold. The doors are a glass-type material, very mirky and nearly impossible to see through, but almost anyone could make out the block-like shapes of bookshelves, especially if they are familiar with the look of them.

This is the Library, and it is very pleased with its latest catch..

At first Emperial remained on the stairwell, staring at the closed route behind her and then she sunk to her knees and hugged her legs very tightly.

It was a trap, a total setup, and somehow she had just wandered right into it. Her thoughts quickly turned to who, but then it occurred to her perhaps this was simpler than that. Occom's Razor and all.

So she called out, "Hello? Hello? I'm sorry for coming in! I wasn't trying to break anything or steal! Please let me out!" When there was no immediate response her mind raced towards other possibilities: that someone was trying to keep her down here, that this person did not have good intentions, and she was about to become the basis of a Law & Order: SVU episode.

So she ran in the only direction she could, which was down, and she tugged on the doors with all of her might. They had to open. There was no telling what was behind her, but ahead of her mght be a hiding place or an alternate route out.

The doors open with ease, if not with too much ease. They swing open - both of them do, and there doesn't seem to be much of a reason for this either - to release a sight not often viewed by the eyes of Gaians.

A library. Not ANY library, in fact, but THE Library. Books upon books, shelves upon shelves; bare spots are found only on rare occasion. One book sits on its own platform, opened to a certain page, but if one was to look at this they would see nothing but very faint writing. There would be more interest in the diversity of these novels, most of which haven't been viewed, or even heard of, in numbers of years..

Way, way in the back, in a little room originally intended to be an independant reading room, reclines a lime-hued man flipping leisurely through a gardener's magazine. He had positioned his chair to look directly out past the numberless amounts of shelves, down one particular aisle so he could have a clear view of the only other doorway down. Unfortunately for him, he's too involved in a particular article about hedge carvings to take a glance up..

Emperial went darting between the shelves looking for some sort of a servicable alcove when she spotted the stranger. She quickly duckes behind a shelf. This changed the game a bit. But if she kept low and quiet...

So the former Empress dropped to her hands and knees and went crawling around, peering at the stranger every once in a while over the lower shelves or around corners. She seemed thoroughly engrossed, a fact for which she was thankful.

If only he hadn't had a clear view of the only other exit and the advantage of home territory. She huddled of hefty art books and listened for clues. Some sort of a hint as to possible pursuers or an opportunity.

A particularly heavy novel, bound very thick in a material close to that of leather, wobbles threateningly off a high shelf. While it doesn't fall off completely, the rough black book has wiggled itself out enough to stand out against the other shelf occupants.

This book, its pages a milky silver-white, is particularly interesting. While the rest of the library contents have their unique attributes, this one is seemingly tough and strong-willed. However, it's clear that it does have its downfall, evident from the slight slash or tear across the bottom of the front cover.

The man merely turns the page of his magazine, tickled pink by the different hedge designs featured this month. His buggy glasses, in turn, block out the corners of his sight, aiding the Library in its little game.

Take it. Take the book. Takeittakeittakeit.

It's no coincidence that that book was the only one on the shelves affected by the new movements in the Library.

Sneaking up for another look, Emperial hit her head against the spine of the book. She dropped back down quickly, biting back a gasp, and froze. There was no change in the sounds of the library that she could discern.

Better safe than sorry. Turning to face the shelf, Emperial decided to free the protruding book, gently tugging it free from the shelf. Her intent was to use the vacant spot as a viewing slit. Slowly, slowly she tugged.

The book falls loose, the tear now visible. The books on either side, amazingly enough, remain upright and don't feel the need to fill this new space.

Read it. Open it up, read something...

Black upon milky silver-white, this book is truly a mystery. The tear reveals a deep scarlet colour, unusual for a book like this to be bound and then bound again. Perhaps covering something else..? Whatever it is, it doesn't hurt to take a look inside, for curiosity's sake..

On her tiptoes, Emperial could discern no noticeable change in the stranger, now mentally dubbed "target." She looked down at the strange book and opened it up, just to see what it actually was underneath all that binding.

Pippin glances up momentarily from his seat, as he had routinely decided to do. On a first look, everything looks absolutely normal about the entrance.. but his silver eyes jolt up for a second look.

Door. Left. AJAR.

Panicpanicpanic.. Pippin has already jumped up from his chair and does his best to resist doing his "Pansy Dance of Panic," as his sister had dubbed it.

It could be nothing! he tries to ensure himself, twisting the knob of the reading room turned office. Nothing at aaaaall..

He takes merely two steps out and stands in the first aisle of bookshelves before a second thought whips him in the gut.

What if it isn't nothing?! Ohhhh skittles and their joyous rainbow, a pregnant woman is enough to deal with! An ANGRY pregnant woman is like, 10 TIMES worse than that!

Despite himself, he jogs up and down on the spot, his heels kicking up a little high when he does this; his hands move up and down. Phoenix would smack her head in embarassment right now.. His eyes dart across the shelves of books, aiming to lock on some sort of disturbance, hopefully catch the person before they commit the act of opening one of the books..

"AHA," he half-squeals, half-yelps at the sight of the missing book. There's no avoiding the situation now; he can make out the head of the Gaian clearly through the opening. His heart drops in his chest as he makes his way over, once again the bearer of news..

As he appears in the aisle, he tries his best not to startle the unfortunate person as he's done in the past. Instead, he tries the weaker approach. ".. 'Lo," he lets out, his eyebrows pushing together pitifully without his control. "Please, just keep that page open, the one you're reading.." He winces, taking a few steps forward..

Emperial almost failed to comply, jumping back with surprise, her shoes beating an alarm against the bookshelf. She nearly discarded the book. But she recovered quickly and her mind instantly procured for her the following information:

1) She needed a weapon.
2) She was surrounded by books.
3) Books make great thrown weapons.

So instead of dropping the book she held, she just paused with it splayed open, and readied herself. Very quickly she glanced behind her to make sure she was not being surrounded. No ambush visible. Good. "Whoever you are, I suggest you take a step back or I'll kill you where you stand." There was a certain tenseness to her posture that revealed her preparation for action.

As if Pippin needed for his eyes to match his glasses in bug-like shape..

Holding up his arms much like a person surrendering to a gun or an equivalent weapon, Pippin tries to muffle a wail that comes along with the warning thread.

"Look! Look look, you don't understand," he lets out with tiny squeaks, most damaging to his male characteristics. .. Hell, when did he ever have any to care about damaging? "That book, the book you opened right there, it's not a regular book! If you'll just let me explain.. My office is back there, I can tell you everything about them, the book children.."

Oh, sure. They just threatened to kill you, but SURE, they'll come to the back room with you and you'll share tea and biscuits! As this solution plays out in Pippin's head with other merry solutions, he couldn't help but picture a small leprechaun tap dancing for him.. His fearful expression surprisingly remains, but he hums a little tune despite himself under his breath.

Emperial moved so that her back was against the shelving and she could see down the opposite side of the aisle in the corner of her eye. "Just tell me one thing," she growled. "Who are you working with?"

Pippin gives her a very odd stare.

"With?" he repeats, cocking his head to the side. His tiny flower droops with his head. His expression, considerably less scared now, brightens up as if with a click of a button. He claps his hands together from excitement, copying her action of pressing his back against the books.

"OOH," he cries out, suddenly hushing and ducking a little. "Likelike, the X-Files?! The truth.. is out there.."

A spacey look clouds his expression for a second, and a bit of a weird X-Files theme song mixes with his earlier leprechaun song. He, er, snaps back into reality, straightening his tie out as if being given another chance at an impression.

"I'm only working with my wifey, and she's upstairs resting. It's real important that you put down the book on that table -" He cranes his neck and waggles his finger in the air toward a beautifully carved, but slightly crooked, table near the centre clearing. "- and come with me so I can brief you on what's about to happen."

A cheerful, giddy expression wipes his face, confirming to anyone sane that this one definately.. is not.

Emperial blinked. Normally this was where the Enemy gloated: "We have you now, Empress! You will answer for your unspeakable crimes and endure a thousand years of pain!" or something along those lines. Not, "I like X-Files, my wife's upstairs."

But mention of a wife was better than nothing. "Is she the one who locked me down here? And what do you mean, what's about to happen? I'm not as defenseless as I look. I can defend myself." Which was a lie, but a confident one. She always had that as a last-moment defense, but she was not supposed to use it unless she was two inches from absolute death and sliding. This did not qualify. Even if she was about to become an SVU episode, it did not qualify by far.

Pippin's silly grin doesn't falter.

"Ciara? Nono, she's all pregnant and sleeping, at least I hope she is," he replies with a small laugh. He rubs at the back of his neck, taking a quick look at the book that was chosen. A nice choice, he thought.

His eyes flicker back up again. "Nope, the Library trapped you down here all on its own!" He seems oddly proud of announcing this. "What was it, lights? Sounds? Chasing something? I've heard a bunch'a them by now.."

Forgetting to keep his guard up, he takes a step forward and waves his hand. "Put the book down, and I can e'plain all about it in the office. I can show you pictures of my little girl, an' everything. There's nothing to worry about, really, other than making some room for a.. little addition," he concludes with an uneasy chuckle.

Was this going well? Doesn't seem like it, this one's the toughest cookie he's had yet.

.. Mmm, cookies..

"What are you talking about?" said Emperial. She did not like the vagueries one bit. "By 'the Library,' are you in fact referring to the building and not some sort of secret organization like the Library of Sion?" Okay, so it was the Priory of Sion, but close enough.

Pippin raises an eyebrow. "What's that? .. We're just simple commonfolk," he says with a nervous laugh. Hooohboy, what a winner this one is! "Ciara - that's my wife by the way - she and I found this place. Like I said, we could discuss this over some tea and photographs.. y'just have to put that book down, or you might not like the result."

He shrugs, giving his warning. Sure, they hadn't seen the other result, but then again all other guardians seemed to not have a problem past the initial shock.

"Sure, it could be difficult, miss, to trust someone who looks the way I do, but I can assure you that we're just the type of people you want to get along with!" He beams cheerfully, bobbing his head up and down to try and get her doing the same thing. Instead, he just ends up looking like an interestingly comical bobblehead with a scary, hauntingly naive grin.

This can't lead to anything good..

"Fine, fine," said Emperial, placing the book on the floor. She knew a threat when she heard one. She still had her paperback and her shoes if she felt the need for projectiles. For now, she would have to play along with this strange fellow. No other likely options. Information first. Planning second. Execution last. "Show me what you want to show me."

Pippin stands on his toes cheerfully.

"Good, excellent! Follow me, follow me~" he says in a musical tone, rushing ahead down the aisle, down towards his improvised office. Sure, it used to be a reading room.. but now it's just decked out in cool! Purely filled with glee from getting his way, he opens the door and holds it open for the soon-to-be guardian.

"I've told you most of what you need to know," he says upon her entrance, ".. but there's still a fewwww more details I need to set out in stone.." He'd figured if he didn't unload everything before getting somewhere decently safe, he'd at least have a better rate of survival..

"You haven't told me anything," Emperial objected, fixing him with a disapproving stare and crossing her arms. A lock of dark brown hair falling across her face ruined the angry effect.

Pippin closes the door and raises up his hand for emphasis on his points, though his happiness doesn't seem to be drained.

"First of all, that book you took off the shelf and opened? Yeeeah, sorry to be the one to break it to you, but it's about to become two things. We call them Forgotten Documents here -- don't you like the name? My wifey's brilliant with naming things! -- and they're birthed from the books. After a person opens one of the books, for some reason all the rest lock up.."

He takes a moment to figure out how many fingers he just used on his hand, quickly giving up on that idea and dropping his hands to his sides.

"We're not some conspired group, something outta the movies or nothing. Just regular people who the Library has lured to be the primary caregivers to children ruled by the stories of the books."

Pippin takes a quick glance at his watch, having completely forgotten the time. Still not long enough of a wait, but he should tend to his wife somewhat soon.. Reaching over, he brushes aside some junk before uncovering a recent photograph of his own daughter, April, and her daemon.

Poking a slender finger at the frame while holding it up at a visible angle, he continues his explination. "The animal there? They're born with'm. We call them daemons.. they seem to have some sort of connection to the child, but this stuff is all way too new for us to make any scientifically supported conclusions or sommat."

The man stifles a short yawn before replacing the photograph. He puts a hand to his hip, his grin more fatigued than the strong one he'd worn earlier. "Any questions nowwww?"

Emperial could think of only one question as she shoved her hair behind her ear. "What?" Which was an accurate summation of her mental state: shocked, confused, and with the all-too-familiar feeling of her stomach plummeting past her feet.

Pippin's face spins into a smile. Now there's a familiar reaction to his information!

He swirls a finger through the air, pointing back in the direction from where they came. It isn't visible from within the room, as it's a half-Library away and in the heart of the underground room. However, the man seems sure about what lies ahead.

"Go look for yourself," he says very simply, reopening the door with his free hand.

Quite prepared to accept the fact she was being bamboozled into another trap, Emperial moved towards the door but kept one wary eye on Pippin. She slid past him and backed up in the direction of the previously abandoned book. Even operating in reverse her course was accurate. But her hands were ready to reach for a weapon at any time.

First chance Emperial had, she dropped out of sight. It was ridiculous, she knew, but she did it anyway. Taking care to remain quiet, she crawld towards the familiar bookshelf and peered around the corner.

Right around the corner, just as Pippin expected, the table has different occupants than it originally began with. Instead of the heavy, leather bound book, open to a certain page, there is seated a small child and its daemon.

The child has hair so black that it produces no shine nor no shadow. His expression shows nothing related to happiness nor saddness, though he talks to himself in a rather downhearted-toned gibberish. In his fur bound hands is a piece of paper, milky white as the book itself was:

"It might have been a single day; it might have been a week; from his dreams, it could have been months. He seemed to pass through lifetimes in his dreams. Through the Giant's Drink again, past the wolf-children, reliving the terrible deaths, the constant murders; he heard a voice whispering in the forest, You had to kill the children to get to the End of the World. And he tried to answer. I never wanted to kill anybody. Nobody ever asked me if I wanted to kill anybody. But the forest laughed at him. And when he leapt from the cliff at the End of the World, sometimes it was not clouds that caught him, but a fighter that carried him to a vantage point near the surface of the buggers' world, so he could watch, over and over, the eruption of death .."

It was here, one would realize that the excerpt had been torn at some point, perhaps by the baby or by the daemon, but neither showed any sign of being responsible. Instead, the baby clutched the pieces in his hands and all most would not let the second piece go. Two halves of a whole, but there was still something missing from the excerpt even then.

" ... with blood and a snake's tail coming from the mouth. After a while, though, it began to be his own face, old and sad, with eyes that grieved for a billion, billion murders --? but they were his own eyes, and he was content to wear them."

There is a soft flicker behind the baby's back; two red orbs of energy behind his back seem to be wings. They're like... energy, not exactly solid matter, and would more than likely pass through solids in an interesting fashion. At his side, faithfully yet noisily rustling about, is his accompanying daemon. She seems to adopt the same winged features, displaying more of the undertone colour that the book itself bled underneath its rough exterior. Her name is Constant.

And his name?

The movement in the room other than each other draws the attention of both daemon and Forgotten Document baby.

Emperial stared down at the child, realized precisely what this meant, and found herself completely fixated. She could not tear her eyes away from this boy's face even had she wanted to. It took all of her strength just to swallow.

The boy blinked, breaking his trancelike hold over Emperial, and she began to creep forward bit by bit, murmuring calming phrases in Rhean, which he could never recognize but were universally reassuring on some level.

She was now within arm's reach of him, trying to decide what to look at now that she was not quite so awestruck, and her eyes settled on the papers in his hand. "Adurval--" she started, then-- "What's that?" She stretched out a hand as inobtrusively as she could manage, drawing on her many experiences with stray cats. She could always get them to submit to some attention after a few minutes. The trick was to move slowly and always give the cat the final choice. You could not force a cat to approach you, but you could make yourself inviting.

Though Emperial's focus was on the child, she herself because the focus of the daemon. The small creature picked its way across the boy's lap and sniffed at Emperial's hand.

Emperial kept completely, totally still. This daemon looked like some sort of dog, not cat, and Emperial had far less experience with canines. What little she knew implied that canines were far more dangerous and likely to bite. It was important to avoid eye contact and showing fear.

The only thing Emperial could think of to fulfill that was to close her eyes and focus on something very, very distant. Her breathing deepened and her body relaxed. No eye contact, no fear.

And then she felt tiny fingers take her own and her eyes popped open. It was not the daemon. The daemon had retreated to the child's side and was sitting with its head cocked in curiousity. The fingers belonged to the boy. He studied her hand curiously, unwilling to actually grab her fingers because to do so would mean relinquishing his hold on his precious paper scraps.

The scraps were close enough for Emperial to read now, mostly because she was so accustomed to recognizing the shapes of words even when she could not make out the individual letters. This was part of the trick to speed-reading. The other part was that the only important letters were the first and the last ones.

With surprise she recognized the source. How could she not? The paperback was resting in her armpit, apparently glued there. And there were only two things in her life that Emperial had ever memorized the first time through.

One was the movie Gladiator. Somehow, when she had gone to see it in the threatre for the very first time, she walked out with every line of the movie memorized in her head and recited the dialogue word for word on the second trip a split second before the characters said it (much to chagrin of her mother, who was with her at the time).

The second was a book. She read so many books it was hard to keep them all straight, but one book had stuck itself into her head. It was the only book she had ever read four times in less than four months, not because she had forgotten anything, but because she wanted to. So it was almost unconscious when she recited, "'The most noble title any child can have... is Third.' Valentine Wiggin under the alias of Demosthenes, from the Nets." And recited it just as if this were a real document that had been posted by a real person and not a passage from a book. Recited it as matter-of-factly as she cited sources for a research paper.

And it was a brutally appropriate line, her favorite from the whole book. It was almost eerie, really, because there had been a first, who was Zevulon, and a second, who was Shizue, and this was number three.

She cleared her throat. "Hello, Third." And it sounded ridiculously derogatory on her tongue, but she had said it, and something told her that whatever she did, she would not call this child Ender Wiggin because that would be even more ridiculous.

Third looked at her with his curiously mismatched eyes and mumbled something that sounded vaguely encouraging or indicated a stomach upset. Either way, his path was now written.

5663

2/02/05

The scenario Emperial spent so much time fearing ended up better than she expected. Kancho took one look at Third, started to object, and then looked at Third's eyes and went completely speechless. Those eyes, they were something else. As strange as his hair and those energy wings were, his eyes were the thing that grabbed attention and refused to let it go.

So there was no objection from Kancho and even less objection from Max and Sally and after that Emperial just did not care to note reactions. She put Third in her own room and did not speak of him to the others. The only thing Kancho said which was any sort of command or direciton was, "He seems undernourished. Feed him slowly." And the enthusiasm with which Third accepted the unfamiliarity of a bottle was evidence enough.

Emperial did not see Heinrich again that day, but after he had a chat with Kancho he seemed to come to terms with Third and all the other oddities in the house and set about working on the airplane, which was the reason he was visiting. Emperial regretted the timing. She truly did adore Heinrich and suddenly found herself completely cut off from him when she'd been hoping to make a good impression and cement his loyalty to the cause.

She was therefore rather out of sorts as she went about feeding and caring for Third and Constant. There was plenty of nut-sat formula laying around; Zev was on to solid foods but Shizue seemed stuck developmentally and barely tolerated outmeal. Kancho and Doug were working on the problem. Shizue had never been Emperial's concern and now she would never be.

It was most curious. Em left a seemingly quieted Third to sleep and when she woke the next morning he was staring up with the exact same expression he had worn prior to her putting him down. Constant, too, was sitting where she had been left, at Third's feet.

And as the hours wore by Emperial realized Constant really lived up to her name. She doggedly followed Third everywhere, unless you moved Constant to the side, and there Constant would sit until told otherwise. This nearly resulted in Constant being left behind when Emperial forgot about the little daemon and left the room with Third, but Constant yipped in complaint and was soon back where she seemed to think she belonged: nestled next to Third.

Feeding proved to be little problem even with Emperial's dazed state. Third took to the formula like a pro the second time around and Constant seemed not to notice she was being fed kitten food, that being the only animal food in the house.

Third was not quiet as Zev had been. The moment he develoed a problem he clamored for attention and kept going until Emperial figured out what he wanted. It started off easy. Food. Diaper. Then it got harder. Blanket. That one took twenty minutes of steadily increasing screaming. And worst of all...

Third refused to relinquish the pages he clutched. She pried them out of his fingers with considerable effort and he erupted into a scream so loud she quickly returned the slips of paper. She tried to reason with him: "You can't hold on to those forever! How will you get to play?" but if Third understood, he was noncompliant.

And at the end of the second day she was exhausted and collapsed into her bed. This mantle of responsibility she had spontaneously decided to assume really sucked.

589

2/07/05

Emperial stumbled out of her room looking positively haggard, Third cradled in her arms and Constant following doggedly at her feet. By some twist of fate, she met Doug in the hall. He cast a brief glance and Third and focused his attention on Emperial's face.

"This is awful," she moaned. "Third kept crying all night and why didn't you come help me?"

Slowly, Doug replied, "Have you checked your walls?"

"Huh?"

The general leaned over and rapped his fist against Emperial's door. It made a dull thunk instead of a sharp knock. "Someone modified the dimensional identity resonancy of your door and walls."

Emperial blinked, thought about the walls a moment, and gasped. There it was! A slight harmonics difference from memories of the original construction, so slight it was indiscernable without looking, but it turned the core materials of the walls into soundproofing good enough for any starship engine room.

"Who--!? No, wait, I know who. There are only two people capable of doing this sort of thing in the household besides me." She scowled at the thought of both. Third reached up and clawed at her hair. "Well, thank you Doug, now I know who to go be mad at."

Doug stared impassively a moment. "They only did what had to be done. There are two on-duty guards and if either does not get the requisite minimum hours of sleep, it's a major security concern. You know that, Admiral."

Emperial blinked, batting away Third's attentions. "Wait a minute..." Naturally, she had assumed the blame for the deed lay on Djerod, when in truth, according to Doug's words, the blame lay with Kabuto.

And she realized that she couldn't blame him. She shuffled Third in her arms and looked down into the child's eyes, no longer fearful of what she saw there. "You need to be more quiet," she informed him.

Doug cleared his throat. "How are things?"

"Oh, good," said Emperial, shrugging her shoulders. "He doesn't seem to have any sort of schedule but I've been doing everything you told me to and that's going fine."

"That's good," Duog said.

Emperial's gaze darkened. "I don't understand, though, how do normal people put up with this?"

And Doug, without the slightest hesitation, said, "They grow up," and turned on his heel, heading down the stairwell.

Emperial stared after him with a forlorn look. Only a sudden "nyah!" from Third drew her attention away from the stairs. "Ugugu bah?" said Third.

"Ugugu banana," replied Emperial, sticking her tongue out.

421

2/16/05



Emperial returned to Third's side feeling guilty that she had left him alone, no matter how short the time. You weren't supposed to leave babies alone. Everyone knew that. Third looked up from where he was playing with his hand-me-down toy blocks, oblivious to the fault.

"It's done," Emperial announced, to which Third let out an incomprehensible mumble of senseless words. Constant gave a little ruff.

Emperial sat down heavily on the wood floor next to Third, stacking up the nearby blocks into a tower. "I suppose you're wondering what's done," she said. From thsi distance it was possible to observe her red eyes and newly-dried cheeks. "I'm done, that's what. I'm leaving."

Constant gave another small bark and Emperial laughed despite herself. "You're coming with me, of course, both of you. We're going to very special place, the place where I grew up, a place almost as good as paradise."

Third stared at Emperial with a peculiar sort of ponderous expression, his brow furrowed as deeply as he could manage. Emperial tapped him on the nose.

"Don't look so cross," she said, "it's for the better, really it is. It's the most beautiful planet in the Empire, a shining paradise in its own right, and there will be a great many new thigns to see and explore. You'd like that, wouldn't you? No more hand-me-down toys, because everything you need is provided there. Things like you're never tasted and never seen before."

"Magu balos?" said Third.

Emperial gave a short nod. "Magu balos," she repeated, and laughed. Third was momentarily perturbed but soon joined her with a coy smile.

The tower of blocks before Emperial was now eight high. Third reached out, balled up his hand, and took a swing. The blocks collapsed into a heap and Emperial laughed. "Yes, you're very good at knocking down the things I build," she said, rustling Third's hair. Constant sniffed at a nearby block and looked at both of them reproachfully, as if she did not approve of such a mess.

After a moment Doug came in, looked at the mess, and crossed his arms. He was dressed as usual, his long syntho coat falling almost to the floor, his hair slicked back to reveal a thoughtfully-lined high forehead. He didn't seem angry, more contemplative.

Emperial smiled up at her adopted uncle and stacked the blocks again, nine high this time. Third also made a stack a respectable three blocks high. Only after the twelve blocks were all scattered across the floor did Emperial speak. "Yes?" she said inquiringly.

"You're taking him with you?"

"With us," she clarified, not so subtly reminding Doug of his agreement to assist.

Doug frowned, but that was to expected. "Is that place safe for a child so young?"

"It's always safe for me," Emperial answered.

"Nazul loppam bu," said Third. Emperial nodded.

"Like Third says, it will never hurt us."

Doug raised an eyebrow, quite sure that Emperial had not understand at all what Third meant. Then he shrugged his shoulders. "Far be it for me to argue with the Three," he grumbled, walking back out.

Emperial stuck out her tongue at his retreating form. Beside her, Third did the same. Then they both giggled and resumed stacking up the blocks.

In a few days there would be no blocks, no hardwood floors, and no more household whatsoever.

563

2/20/05

As they stepped out of the transport Third went quiet. His seven hours of screaming seemed not to have damaged his throat by some miracle and seeing the side of the transport open up to a strange and alien planet, he was strangely reassured.

"Welcome to World Zero," Emperial whispered to Third, squeezing him lightly. Third looked out at the scene.

There was not much to see. Thick jungle surrounded them on all sides. Vines and thick leaves formed a seemingly impenetrable barrier around the landing area. The trees rose high into the air above and the air was full of strange insect chirps and bird calls from deep within the trees.

Doug stepped up next to Emperial, Shizue in his arms, strangely conscious of the oddness of their pairing. His concerns were meaningless. Here on World Zero, there was no one to see them or wonder at the two small children they carried or the tiny pup that yipped in excitement at Emperial's feet.

Here on World Zero, there was no one to wonder about anything.

They left the transport ship behind and took only what they could carry. Emperial lead them down a path so cleverly disguised it was invisible from the landing area. The trees were thick around them, but the path was strangely clear. Third grabbed at vines and leaves as they passed.

They walked for some hours, pausing to rest often. Emperial was barely able to manage with Third in her arms and soon passed him off to Doug. Shizue helped by sitting on Doug's shoulders so his arms were free to hold the baby. Then Emperial carried Constant, which was really the least she could do.

The sky overhead, when it was visible, was a dusky purple color, tinged light blue at the edges of the horizon. Stars graced the elegant firmament. The whole of the forest seemed dark and mysterious, forbidding and secret, except for the path they walked on. For some strange reason, the path did not seem as dark as the surrounding forest. It was plain light brown dirt, but wherever the path existed, Doug could see as if in daylight. The moment he left the path, darkness descended upon him. Neither Third nor Shizue were bothered by this change.

Their destination was a small hut set into the canopy of the trees. The little house had a sort of fresh oldness about it, as if it had been here for centuries, but perfectly preserved; timeless.

It was maybe eight feet wide and twelve feet long. The entrance was an empty rectangle trimmed with some sort of bamboo-like bark. The walls were a soft sickly yellow color and a single empty window, identical to the door, looked out on the dirt pathway. The whole of the hut was raised two feet from the ground. There was a small wooden ladder attached to the base of the entry, the bamboo-like material again. The roof was some sort of thatched grass, more brown in tone than the walls, secured by twine lashings to the wooden frame of the ceiling.

The wall material was strange, some sort of combination of wood, stone, and foam. It was cool to the touch but not unsettlingly so; there was a sort of warmth and vibrancy to its smooth surface. The floor was the same material but a greyish color.

Doug lowered Third down to the floor in front of the entry and swung Shizue down to the ground before stepping inside the hut himself. Small, bare, and primitive, but Doug did not for a moment doubt its construction. The raised abode did not tremble in the slightest at his weight. It was clearly quite solid.

Emperial placed Constant next to Third and looked up at Doug. "Is this sufficient for you?"

Doug grunted assertively, wondering about the strange nature of the hut. "Will it fit you too?" he half-chuckled.

"I'll sleep in the trees," she replied in a strangely distant voice.

Doug turned to look back at her and saw that her gaze was on the vines and undergrowth. "Is that really practical?"

Without another word or even a glance in his direction, Emperial strode over to the nearest tree and threw herself upon it. Within moments she was up and away into the heights. Seeing her disappear, Third gave a gurgle that could be interpreted as distraught and was reassured by Constant's tiny tongue lapping at his ear. His gurgle turned into a giggle.

Doug stuck his head out of the house, trying to see where Emperial had gone, but she was completely eclipsed by the heavy foliage. This was a jungle like none on Earth. Suddenly, the leaves above the little clearing rustled. Doug went for his blaster, only he hadn't brought one (Emperial's orders, echoed by the Lady Admiral, that weapons were never, ever to be brought to World Zero, though you could make your own primitive ones on the planet if you desired). It was good the blaster had been left behind. Emperial came suddenly swinging down into the little clearing, dropping down to the ground with ease. The moment she stepped away from the vine and released it, it went sliding back up into the trees at a leisurely pace.

She held in her hand a strange fruit, the size of a large cantaloupe, but shaped like a football with raised ridges running along it horizontally. The color was mostly orange, but there were some paler yellow stripes along the spines. A bit of leaf and stalk protruded from one end. It was physically flawless, with no sign of insect holes or rot, bruising or age.

"Here, eat this," said Emperial. Doug almost asked how, but then she produced a second fruit of the same kind from under her arm, smaller than the first, and broke off the stalk. The end of the fruit separated cleanly. Emperial discarded the stalk and scooped out some fruit from the inside with her fingers, bringing it to her mouth.

Doug emulated her and was surprised to find that the fruit was neither wet nor dry, and did not stick to his fingers. It was solid but scooped out easily. It was sort of like smooth freeze dried ice cream in texture and consistency, but had a fresh, sharp taste. Not acidic, but invigorating, sort of like fresh lettuce in its effects. It seemed to melt away in the mouth, just like freeze dried ice cream.

Doug offered the fruit to Shizue. Though sleepy (as usual) she mimicked the motions of the adults and came away with a handful of fruit. She brought it to her mouth, tasted it cautiously, and seemed to deem it acceptable. She soon finished her first handful and held out her fingers for more.

Emperial gave some of her fruit to Third and Constant, apparently deeming it appropriate for humans and animals or daemons of all ages. After a moment, Doug asked, "What is this?"

"Mient fruit," she replied smoothly. "Tomorrow we will have jueres and then yi'ylana, the day after that hagan fruit and finberries. Every day a new food, and all wonderful and unique. There are several thousand varieties of edible fruits, nuts, and berries on this world. It is World Zero, the world of bounty, and it welcomes us." She fell into silence and resumed feeding Third and Constant. The little daemon in particular seemed not to be able to get enough of the stuff, licking at Emperial fingers uselessly, for there was no fruit stuck to her skin. Eventually Emperial just placed the fruit on the floor and let Constant dig in to her heart's content. The fruit was almost as big as the daemon.

"The sun is setting," said Emperial, though there was no discernable change in the lighting. "You should get some sleep. I have work to do."

"Work?" repeated Doug.

"Yes," she said, and turned and walked off into the trees.

Doug found himself with a baby, a toddler, a little daemon, and two pieces of fruit. Some vacation.

1346

3/03/05

The daily routine was becoming predictable. Every morning Emperial would drop down from the trees with some new treat for the group to enjoy and explain a little bit more about their surroundings. She showed them the trees with the bark-like fungal covering that could be turned to cloth and blankets, and giant furry white flowers that made for short-term pillows or a good game of catch. Then she brought flowers akin to orchids, immensely complex in their beauty, and with them the ugly, misshapen lumpy, sticky fruits from which the flowers emerged. The fruits, which created almost as much a mess as the jueres, were quite tasty despite their appearance.

Time became a little blurry after a few days, so Doug had trouble remembering if he had been here for four days or ten. He figured somewhere in the middle. He had no idea what the date was when Third first spoke.

It was hardly Third's first sound or wordlike noise. Since his arrival, Third kept up a near-constant mumbling commentary in a language only he and Constant seemed to understand, and even that understanding was tenuous at best. Emperial was able to drown it out, particularly when it was mostly a low mumbling, and spoke to Third in plain English regardless of whether he himself was speaking or not. He never seemed to mind being talked over. Sometimes she would mimic his baby speech as if she, too, could understand. Maybe on some level she could.

But for the first time, Third said something that even Doug could understand, even if he did not understand it immediately.

"Say it for Doug," Emperial instructed Third, holding the baby out to Doug for inspection.

"mflghlhm" said Third.

"Not that," reprimanded Emperial, "say what you just said to me a minute ago."

Whatever Emperial wanted, Third was not cooperating, so she sat him down on the ground.

"Kazan!" said Third immediately as Constant trotted up and gave his cheek a thorough licking. one chubby little hand came out and gave the puppy a rough pat on the head.

"See?" said Emperial, smiling broadly. Doug did not see. "He said Constant," Emperial clarified.

It could have been Carmen or Tarzan, really, but Doug supposed Emperial was right and Third was calling his daemon by her human-acceptable name. (He had no doubt that Third's baby nonsense vocabulary already held a word for Constant's name, but this was a step in the right direction.)

"I'm going to teach him to say everything," announced Emperial. "The names of all the trees and all the fruits and all the pools."

"The pools have names?" asked Doug.

Emperial looked at him as if such a fact were obvious. "Of course they do. All of them, every last one. The one we get our water from and do our cleaning in is called the lmrjkazn Pool."

"What?"

"lmrjkazn. Oh, never mind!" And she scooped Third back up and carried him over to the nearby bushes to tell him exactly what the bush was and attempt to coax him into saying it. Doug shrugged and went back to what he was doing.

526

3/20/05



286

Baby Growth Quest ---

World Zero is far from Third's birthplace, the underground Library back on Gaia. Being that this world is under the influence of his guardian, it is no doubt a satisfying environment for him to flourish and live daily life in. However, Third must come to the startling conclusion that he will have to allow himself to change and to grow up.

For a short period of time, Third and Constant will gain influence on their immediate surroundings. The results will not be pleasant, as their mind isn't exactly developed enough to comprehend how to direct the changes away from the good of World Zero to an abrupt bad and, eventually, worse. What are these changes, and why have they spawned from Third and Constant? How will their influence be intercepted and fixed? What will make the pair decide to allow themselves to grow older?