Chapter 12 - Fantastic Voyage
By Cille
It’s amazing, thought Cille, how quickly lives can change.
It was a thought she had had with almost alarming frequency in the last two years or so – when she had lost her parents, and then found herself the mother to a teenage boy, when she surprised even herself by becoming engaged to a man she barely knew, and when her fiancé was suddenly gone without a trace.
She had to wonder, with a touch of both amusement and bitterness, just how she had gotten to this point. On the surface she seemed to have a life that anybody would envy: She had been born into one of the more prominent and well-to-do families in Orly, and her parents had been savvy enough to maintain their lifestyle amid the political and social turmoil of the last decade. She had gotten a good education, and had a respectable (if not overly exciting) job that more than took care of her expenses. She was generally well regarded within the community, even if there were those who resented her for her status, and she tried not to let that status go to her head. She had many acquaintances but only a few close friends, among them Eric Ominae and Luna Monegossde; Eric had been a friend of her family since before Cille was born, and Cille had befriended Luna shortly after the latter’s arrival in Orly from Comedia.
Cille had had the benefit of a happy family life, too. She was her parents’ only child, and they made sure to instill a sense of responsibility and integrity in the girl who would one day inherit the family fortune. It was a very caring environment, and even as her father quietly struggled and sacrificed to keep his family secure, Cille never felt like anything could change their happy life.
Change did come in the form of a young boy who came to stay with the family the summer after Cille turned thirteen. Raef’s father had served with Cille’s in the army (“back when there was honor in the military,” as her father had been known to grumble), and they had remained steadfast friends after returning to civilian life, despite belonging to decidedly different social classes. With the elder Compton’s help, both of Raef’s parents became doctors and dedicated themselves to serving patients in the less privileged areas of Orly and the surrounding towns. When they decided to use their medical skills to help those who were being injured in the ongoing military conflict in Babblstan, they left their young son with the Comptons and their teenage daughter. None of them could have guessed that the addition to the family would be permanent. When the two doctors were killed in an ambush, there was little their grieving friends could do but take in their son and raise him as part of their own family.
And so the happy home life continued for the expanded family. Eventually Cille struck out on her own, starting a new job and moving into her own apartment. Raef dedicated himself to schoolwork and took an interest in history and engineering. And then one night eleven years after Raef had joined the Compton family, it was torn apart in a car crash that killed both of Cille’s parents. For the first time in her life, Cille felt the pain of losing something infinitely dear to her.
As difficult as it was for Cille to come to terms with the loss, it was even harder on Raef, who had been left orphaned for the second time. Making his situation even more grave was the fact that the government had recently instituted a policy forcing all parentless boys between the ages of 14-18 to enter military school. The measure had been pushed through the national assembly by a general named Ozzal, who had argued that drastic measures were needed to boost the army’s lagging enlistment numbers. Since Raef opposed joining the increasingly corrupt army, and Cille didn’t want to lose the only family she had left, they came up with a plan to circumvent the rule – Cille would formally adopt him, thereby saving him from needing to be registered as an orphan. Eric helped them by calling in a favor with an old Navy buddy who had a daughter working in the records department, and all of a sudden Cille was the legal mother of a fourteen-year-old boy.
She still found the whole arrangement rather amusing, especially since she wasn’t anywhere near old enough to be Raef’s biological mother. But those who knew him as her “son” seemed to take it in stride, and those who didn’t know them probably figured (aptly enough) that she was his older sister. She had certainly never had any aspirations to be a mother, and fortunately Raef was not the sort of kid who needed a lot of discipline. He had always been remarkably mature, seldom straying from the established rules, and she often joked that he would have made the better parent.
In the following weeks as she went about settling her parents’ affairs, Cille made the startling discovery that their assets were not anywhere near what one might have expected. It seemed that most of their wealth had been used up as her father tried to continue providing a comfortable life for his family and keep up with his habit of philanthropy. Fortunately it was not completely exhausted, but this meant that Cille and Raef would not be able to rely on their inheritance to get by. Cille came to feel a certain amount of gratitude to her parents for encouraging her to work hard and build her own life.
Cille’s family and work had always come before any thoughts of a love life. She had never been one to rush into things, particularly when it came to romance. But her involvement with Landon Blaken had definitely been what you’d call a whirlwind. They had made each other’s acquaintance one evening at Luna’s restaurant, several months after her parents’ death. He was a soldier, staying in the city for a few nights before he headed back to his hometown to visit his family. Luna introduced the two of them and encouraged them to get to know each other, perhaps thinking that her friend could use some cheering up. Cille was impressed with Landon, even if she couldn’t explain just why, and she looked forward to meeting him for dinner at the restaurant each night. Of course she didn’t expect much to come of it, knowing that she would probably never see him again once he had left town. But then, a week after he had gone back to his hometown, he arrived back in Orly hoping to see Cille again. And thence began a grand love affair that few could ever dream of. For once in her life Cille allowed herself to get swept up in impetuous emotions, and when Landon proposed to her (right in Luna’s restaurant, much to the Comedienne’s delight), she felt sure that this was the man she wanted to be with for the rest of her life.
And so Landon took an extended leave from the army and came to live in Orly with Cille and Raef. The boy idolized his new father-to-be, listening eagerly to his stories of military history and his experiences in the army. Once again it seemed that Cille would have the kind of idyllic family life that she and Raef had lost.
And then Michelle Ozzal forcibly took control of Actonia’s government and named herself Head Governor, after years of trying to exert her influence on the country and work her way up the political ladder. News of her past underhanded exploits began to leak out and was just as quickly silenced, even as she took to gradually tightening her grasp on the country and the lives of its people.
The new political and social climate had a profound effect on Landon. It vexed him that a member of the military that he served would use her position to oppress the people. He was also upset to see what was happening in his hometown, which like most of the small towns in Lower Actonia was facing especially harsh treatment. He began taking increasingly frequent trips, telling Cille that he was being called out on official assignments or going to visit his family and friends. When they received news that Landon’s entire family had been killed by military police at a town meeting protesting the new regime, Landon’s grief turned quickly to rage. The next day he was gone, leaving behind only a note telling Cille and Raef that he had gone to avenge the deaths of his family. That was the last time Cille had seen her fiancé.
Cille was crushed by his departure. She had always wanted to trust him, and something in her heart told her that she should. And so she had never inquired about his frequent absences or just what his work entailed, although she would have gladly listened if he had wanted to tell her. Some may have called her naïve and foolish, and since his disappearance she had been more inclined to agree. But there was no changing that now, and she had done her best to move on with her life in the months since he had disappeared. She couldn’t entirely help thinking of him from time to time, though, and she followed the news stories about the incipient revolution with more interest than she would have cared to admit.
Raef had a difficult time accepting their abandonment as well. He began having trouble in school, getting into fights with other students and neglecting his schoolwork. Cille tried her best to encourage him, and he managed to get by, but he never seemed as idealistic or focused as he had been.
And then out of nowhere he was gone too. In the days following Luna’s dreadful announcement, Cille and her friends searched frantically for any sign of where he might have gone. Cille contacted his school and discovered that he had been frequently absent in the past few months, and had apparently been giving his teachers forged notes from his mother excusing him from class or responding to the letters of warning that he had never bothered to give to her. She began to wonder if he had gone after Landon and his Syndicate, perhaps still angry at his former father figure, or perhaps hoping to join their cause. With the news that he had been kidnapped, it seemed ever more likely that he had gotten involved with the rebels, but try as she might Cille was unable to find any trace of him.
She had always been careful to distance herself from the rumblings of revolution. She didn’t like Ozzal or her corrupt policies any more than anyone else, but she had too much to lose to get involved with opposing factions. And so like many of the other residents of Orly, she simply went about her life amid vague feelings of discontent and the hope that things would get better. Even after Landon had left her, and she discovered the truth about him and the Blacken Syndicate, she was even more careful to avoid looking suspicious for fear of becoming a target for Ozzal’s minions. And so it was no small feat for her to go about tracking down her missing loved ones. She tried everything she could think of short of shouting for them in the street, but after nearly two weeks she felt no closer to finding them than when she had started.
And then one day she arrived home to find a bouquet of flowers in the hallway, just inside the front door. Her thoughts immediately jumped to Landon and the tokens of affection he would send her during their courtship. Her pulse quickened even more as she recognized the main flowers in the arrangement – tiger lilies, which had always been special to her as a reminder of the flowers growing around the summer home in the country that her family had had before the political situation convinced her parents to stay in the city. But the only ones who knew about her affection for the flowers were Raef, who had also lived in that house for a time, and Landon…
Her apprehension giving way to a fervent desire to know who might have delivered the gift and why, she hastily picked up the bouquet and took it into her room for a closer inspection. There was no card or any markings on the basket, so she took to rifling through the foliage. Having pulled out nearly all of the flowers, she discovered a small scrap of paper near the bottom wedged into the green foam block.
She could barely make out the scrawled words. Whoever had written the note must have been in one hell of a hurry. But it looked like “your son”… and was that the word “safe”? It seemed to be trying to tell her that Raef was all right, much to her great relief. The only other thing in the note was “Harry’s,” which she recognized as the name of a restaurant, and a time, 8pm. She looked at her watch. It was just after 6:30. That would give her plenty of time to get across town by 8. She paused, though, scrutinizing the note even more closely. There was still no clue as to who had left the bouquet, or who it was who wanted to meet her at Harry’s. Could it be that Raef would be there to reunite with her? Or was something more sinister afoot?
After considering the situation for a few minutes, she decided that she had to at least go to see what this was all about. Harry’s was a public place, and tended to be busy in the evenings, so if she ran into trouble at least there would be plenty of people around to help her. Shoving the note into her pocket, she glanced at the flowers and greenery strewed on her bed. She could clean that up later.
When she arrived at the restaurant, the place was packed as usual. She was looking around for any sign of anyone she would recognize, and wondering if she would even be able to find a place to sit down, when one of the restaurant waitstaff approached her. She had feathered blonde hair and a perky smile.
“Ms. Compton?” she asked.
“Yes…” Cille answered, somewhat uncertainly.
“We’ve got a table reserved for you. Right this way, please.”
Cille was slightly baffled. She certainly hadn’t called ahead to let the restaurant know she was coming. She followed the girl to a small table near the front of the restaurant. It was unoccupied, with only one place setting.
As Cille sat down, the waitress handed her a menu. “My name’s Yurika. Take a few minutes and I’ll be back for your order.”
“Thank you,” Cille murmured. She was glad she had at least remembered to grab her purse on the way out. With a nod and a smile, the waitress turned to go. “Excuse me, miss…” Cille said suddenly. The girl turned back to her expectantly. “Are there… How many people are you expecting for this reservation?”
“Mmmm… just one, I think,” she answered. “Why, are you expecting someone else?”
“I… I was just wondering,” Cille said. The girl nodded and headed back into the dining room.
A short while later Cille sat munching on a salad, still puzzling over this strange turn of events. It was now well after eight o’clock, and there had been no sign of anyone coming to meet her. She gazed absentmindedly out the window, watching the cars go past on the dark street. Yurika came to clear things away, and then brought the bill, and still no one came. Finally, after waiting in the restaurant for nearly three hours, Cille decided to give up and go home.
She arrived home to find her apartment completely trashed. Someone had gone through nearly every room in the place, rifling through drawers and closets and even slashing up some of the furniture. For several moments Cille just stood there in shock, trying to absorb what in the hell had happened there. Then she collapsed and burst into tears. It terrified her to think of what might have happened to her if she hadn’t gone out when she did. Through her tears she noticed a tiger lily blossom lying trampled on the ground. She clutched at it, breaking down into even more wrenching sobs.
It took a long while for her to regain her composure and begin to think about what she should do. She knew she couldn’t stay in her wrecked apartment for the night, so she called Luna to ask if she could come stay with her. Luna could tell that there was something wrong with her friend, but it wasn’t until Cille arrived at her place that she got the full explanation of what had happened. They agreed that it would be best to lay low at least until they could find out what had happened. Cille suspected that Ozzal’s police may have been there looking for information about Landon or Raef, but she didn’t dare say anything of the sort to her friend.
The next morning, after a sleepless night, Cille called in to work to ask for some time off. Her boss responded by telling her that her employment had been terminated. He seemed sympathetic, but said that it was in the firm’s “best interest” to let her go. She was too stunned to challenge the decision, and he wished her luck.
Suddenly that perfect life had completely crumbled. Her family, her work, even a home of her own had all been taken from her. For the first time in her life she felt completely hopeless.
For the next several days she hung around at Luna’s place, not even really feeling like continuing her search for Raef or even finding out who had ransacked her apartment. Luna felt sorry for her, but figured that Cille could use some time to deal with the trauma she had just gone through. She also had the sense to realize that if Ozzal’s people really were looking for Cille, it would be better for her to stay out of sight. And in fact she noticed, from time to time, that there were unfamiliar people who seemed to be taking a sudden unusual interest in her restaurant. She and her staff agreed to keep on doing business as if nothing were amiss, and fortunately they didn’t have any trouble on account of their guest.
After several days of moping around being emo, Cille finally decided that it was time to snap out of it. At the very least she still had to find Raef, and if she herself was going to be a target for Ozzal’s thought police, she wanted to be prepared to face whatever might be in store for her. She had very little left to lose, so it was finally time to cast aside her last remaining qualms and fulfill her true destiny as the inexperienced but resolute protagonist of an anime-related fanfiction story.
Of course, she still had no idea how she was actually going to accomplish this. There was still that small matter of tracking down the Syndicate without getting arrested. She mused over possible courses of action as she headed down to the restaurant to grab a bite to eat before heading out for the day.
Luna noticed that there was something different about her friend’s demeanor. “You seem more like your old self today,” she commented as she handed Cille her tea.
“You think so, huh?” Cille replied. She still didn’t want to tell Luna too much for fear of implicating her friend any further. “I think I’ll have two muffins today. I’m going out later.”
“Really?” Luna seemed concerned. “I hope you’ll be careful. There are probably still people looking for you. I’ve been asking around, and it seems pretty certain that the people who were in your apartment were with the military police.”
“That’s… what I was afraid of…” Cille admitted. “But I need to find out what’s really going on here. I’ll be careful… but it’s time for me to actually do something. There’s only so much mulling over backstory that a girl can take.”
Luna nodded. She knew how determined Cille could be, especially when the alternative was going another ten chapters without being mentioned.
“You’ll have to settle for a couple of yesterday’s muffins,” she said, starting back toward the kitchen. “Hikki didn’t show up this morning to start baking.”
“That’s fine,” Cille answered. Hikki’s baking was so good that even day-old muffins tasted better than fresh ones elsewhere.
“Hmmm… maybe you’d better take these back up to your room…” Luna said, coming back with Cille’s breakfast. Cille surreptitiously followed her gaze toward the front window. A couple of men in long coats were talking to each other, occasionally glancing toward the restaurant.
“You’ve seen them before?” Cille asked.
Luna nodded. “They’ve been hanging around the place for a few days. I think it’s pretty clear who they are.” She handed the muffins to Cille. She had wrapped them in brown paper. “When you’re ready to go out, you can use the back fire exit just down the hall from your room. Just be careful.”
Cille nodded, thanked her friend, and headed back toward her room, weighing whether she should simply make a break for it right now. She decided to at least stop back into her room to pick up a few of her belongings. She gathered up what little she had there, and paused when she came to the bruised and wilted tiger lily that she had unconsciously brought with her the night of the ransacking. It was right on the dresser where she had left it, but now there was what looked like a card underneath it that she was quite sure hadn’t been there before. She quickly picked it up and opened it to find another hastily scrawled note in what looked like the same hand as before. This one was much more lengthy, and contained a detailed set of directions to some meeting place. Fortunately it was much more legible than the last one. Cille idly wondered if her mysterious contact would actually show up this time after putting her through so much extra work. But, with Ozzal’s minions close on her trail, she didn’t exactly have time to debate with herself. Trying to muster up the courage she had a feeling she would need, she grabbed her bag of muffins and made for the fire exit.
Cille followed her contact’s directions exactly. They had taken her through numerous streets and alleyways and even a few detours into shops to bide her time and try to lose any pursuers in the crowds. She soon found herself in an unfamiliar part of town, one that was decidedly more run-down than the areas she usually frequented, but fortunately not so rough that she felt unsafe. Her ultimate destination, she found, was a small hole-in-the-wall shop that she would have walked right by if she hadn’t been paying close attention. As it was she could barely make out the faded writing on the weathered panel above the door: “Ghost’s Book Shop.” Peering cautiously into the small front window, she saw a dimly-lit room lined with what appeared to be bookshelves. With one final “here we go” look up at the signboard, Cille opened the door and slipped into the shop.
She was greeted by the distinctive smell of a place that has been the home to a lot of books – and not much else – for a very long time. It was not unpleasant, but Cille had to wonder just how long it had been since anybody had cleaned the place. She didn’t immediately see anyone else in the shop, and so her gaze wandered to the mass of books lining the walls. Most of them looked like they hadn’t been touched in ages. Here and there she noticed a familiar title, but most of what she saw seemed pretty obscure. One particular title caught her attention; as she reached for it, she was startled by a woman’s voice behind her.
“Welcome! Can I help you find anything special today?”
Cille turned to find an older woman smiling expectantly at her. Her long, flowing skirt and blouse complemented her long, flowing hair, and she had an old-fashioned sort of style about her that seemed perfectly at home among the shelves of old books.
“No, I’m… just browsing.”
“Well, that’s all right too, that’s what this place is here for!” The woman answered cheerfully. “If there is anything you’ve got in mind, just ask. I know every book in this place.”
“Thank you,” Cille said. She still wasn’t quite sure what to make of this woman, but something about her friendly demeanor was definitely helping to put her at ease.
“Can I get you something while you’re looking? Maybe some nice hot tea? My treat.”
“That… that would be nice, yes. Thank you.”
With a nod and yet another smile, the woman hurried off to some back corner of the shop to procure her tea. Cille looked after her for another moment, feeling vaguely contemplative, and then turned her attention back to the shelves she had been inspecting. Having once again located the book that had caught her interest, she carefully pulled it from the shelf and began gingerly leafing through the yellowed pages.
“Here we go,” the old proprietress called jovially, returning with a small cup of tea and a plate of scones. As she handed them to Cille, she peered over her shoulder at the cover of the now-closed book. “Oh, very nice choice!” she chirped. Cille suspected that she would have said the same about any book in the shop. “You’re welcome to stay here as long as you like, if you’d like to sit and read for a bit. I’d recommend the table up at the front window,” she added, gesturing toward the front of the shop. “You’ll get the best light there, and there’s a nice view of the street if you feel like getting distracted.” She winked, and Cille had the feeling that the woman could sense how much she had on her mind. Cille nodded, thanking her again for her hospitality, and then the woman excused herself to go back to her undoubtedly fascinating work in the back storage room.
And so it was that Cille found herself sitting at a small table with a cup of hot tea and a well-worn copy of The Scarlet Pimpernel, trying to act casual despite the nerves turning her insides into some manner of stew. This was the place her contact had specified, she was sure of it, and still there was no one here to meet her. The old woman who ran the shop seemed like an unlikely prospect; she probably hadn’t even left the place in years, and Cille couldn’t imagine that a fastidious bookworm would have such atrocious handwriting. And so Cille waited, idly gazing at the unturned pages of her book and the empty street outside, wondering how long she would have to keep this up before something actually happened. She nibbled on the scones, silently thanking the proprietress for being so thoughtful. They were surprisingly good, especially since her breakfast muffins had worn off quite a while ago and she hadn’t thought to stop somewhere for lunch.
A few minutes that seemed like an eternity later, Cille saw a car pulling up by the curb. She watched it, wondering if this was her contact arriving, but no one got out. Then, impetuously, she rose and started for the door, leaving the book on the table and taking one final look around the still-empty shop. If this was her contact, perhaps he was waiting for her to come out and meet him. And if not… well, she was going to find out.
As she approached the car, the driver glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and nonchalantly rolled down the window. His appearance struck Cille as being rather strange – he had a shock of orange hair, with streaks of white running down the side, and a somewhat awkwardly prominent nose and chin. She couldn’t see much more of him, but he seemed quite tall and lanky, as if it felt uncomfortable for him to be constrained in such a small space behind the steering wheel. He wore a long gray overcoat, despite the fact that the day had been quite warm. He seemed fairly amused by the way that Cille was sizing him up.
“Need a ride? It’s fast and cheap.”
This was an… odd choice for a code phrase, Cille thought, but she didn’t see how it could be anything other than an invitation. After another moment of sizing up the driver and his car, and casting a furtive glance around her to see who might be watching, she opened the rear door and got into the back seat. Their eyes met in the rearview mirror, and the man gave her a wink. She wasn’t sure whether to feel reassured or unsettled.
He didn’t say anything as he put the car in gear and drove away from the book shop. As much as Cille was dying to know who this man was and just what he wanted with her, she found herself reluctant to say too much until she knew how trustworthy he was. Finally she decided to take a cagey approach and see what she could get out of him.
“That was a nice bouquet. How did you know that tiger lilies are my favorite flower?” she ventured.
She saw him grinning in the rearview mirror. “I know a lot of things, Ms. Cillie.”
Cillie? That was a new one. She wasn’t about to correct him, though. She was still trying to decide how much to let on about herself and what she knew… and his assertion wasn’t doing much to put her at ease. He had obviously been keeping an eye on her, but for what purpose? Of course she desperately hoped that he was an ally of Landon’s, but she couldn’t shake the possibility that she had walked right into a trap.
He seemed to know exactly what she was thinking. “I’m glad you decided to accept my invitation back then. Those fellows from the goon squad did quite a number on your apartment.”
“Your… invitation? So it was you who stood me up, then?”
He seemed slightly abashed at the suggestion. “Wellll… let’s just say that it might have been a little soon for our first date. There’s still a lot we don’t know about each other.”
“Indeed.” He had a strange and rather disarming sense of humor, that Cille definitely hadn’t expected. She still wasn’t really sure what to make of him, but at least he didn’t seem especially threatening.
“We’ll have plenty of time for that later,” he continued. “Right now, we’ve got a meeting to get to.”
And with that, all rainbow-colored hell broke loose around Cille. She had no earthly idea what was going on, but somehow the car was morphing around her into something… pink? And vaguely organic looking? And then they were speeding off into oblivion, and Cille was suddenly glad that she didn’t have too much in her stomach. It was all she could do to stay upright as they careened down what she hoped was still the road. She squeezed her eyes shut and clutched at whatever might be handy, and became vaguely aware that the whooping and hollering from the front seat was actually forming words now. “You see, Ms. Cillie,” she made out, and from there it was an aural blur that she couldn’t even begin to process. There was something about seizing opportunities… something about hesitating… or was it not hesitating? Hell if she knew, and at the moment she was rather more concerned with not ralphing than with catching all of the nuances of his apparently inspirational diatribe. He seemed blithely oblivious to the discomfort of his passenger, and it was not until the car screeched to a halt that he paused for breath.
“Don’t you think so, Ms. Cillie?” he asked, craning around to look at her. She wearily raised her head and mumbled something that even she didn’t understand. “Well…” he continued, seeming only mildly nonplused at her lack of conversational skills, “you can just think about that for now. Something profound like that takes a little pondering.” He hopped out of the car and strode around to open the door for her. “They’ll be waiting for us,” he said, extending a hand to help her out.
It was a good thing she had his arm to lean on as they walked toward the waiting building. From what she could see as she tottered along, they were in another run-down part of town. This one looked like it had fared even worse, and Cille was relieved that she hadn’t had to come there alone. It occurred to her that a gargantuan pink car was not the most subtle thing to be leaving around in a place like this, but the car’s driver seemed unconcerned. By the time they made their way into the nondescript and apparently abandoned building, Cille’s carsickness was giving way to nervous anticipation about what they might find there.
“So there’s a meeting here that we –“ she began, before stumbling over a broken tile on the floor. She grabbed at her companion’s coat, and as he helped her up she caught sight of what he was wearing underneath it: a uniform, similar to the type that Landon had worn, but lavender and white instead of the usual dark colors. Which meant… that he was with the military…
She froze, and then wrenched herself away from his grasp and backed away from him. He immediately understood her alarm, and made no move to go after her – until she suddenly darted for the door. “Cille, wait!” he shouted, grabbing her arm on the way by. She whirled to face him, and he was probably lucky she wasn’t more violently inclined.
“Tell me who you are and what’s going on…” she hissed, “or I’m screaming this place down.”
He regarded her defiant glare for another moment, and then sighed and released her arm.
“All right. The name’s Straight Cougar. I used to work within the military’s HOLY unit for Alter users, which you probably know was disbanded last year. I managed to stay on in what you might call a freelance position. They let me keep the uniform… it comes in handy for getting where I need to go.” He cocked a half-sheepish smile. She was somewhat less than impressed. “I don’t answer to any particular higher-ups, which means I’m largely free to pursue my own work,” he continued, “…which makes it a lot easier to follow my own causes.”
“And are you going to tell me what those are?” she demanded.
He smiled, a little more indulgently this time. “I would think… you might have an idea after everything you’ve been through lately. I can understand your reluctance to trust me, though. You can’t be too careful. You’re lucky, really, that I got to you before they did.”
“You mean those men at the restaurant…”
“Then you did notice them. Yeah, I’m not the only one who’s been keeping an eye on you.”
She considered the situation for a few moments. “All right then… if you are with the Syndicate… where is Landon?”
“I can’t tell you that right now.” Her eyes narrowed. “We can’t be too careful either. It’s enough for you to know that he wasn’t actually captured by Ozzal. The execution you read about was a fake set up to trap our agents.”
“And Raef?”
“He’s been rescued, as I mentioned in my first correspondence with you. I’m afraid it may be a little while before you can reunite with him, but I hope you won’t worry too much about him. He’s been working with us for quite some time. You might be surprised at how well he can handle himself.”
He grinned encouragingly, but she didn’t really notice. Her suspicions about Raef had been confirmed, and she wondered just how much more she had turned a blind eye to in the past. He let her muse for a few moments. “Landon is a good man, though,” he offered. “And it hurt him terribly to leave you and Raef.”
She looked back up at him. “You know Landon, then?”
He nodded. “He’s told me quite a lot about you,” he said, grinning again.
Her eyes fell again. If he still cared about her so much, why hadn’t he tried to contact her? At least to let her know he was okay?
He regarded her sympathetically for a moment. “Don’t worry, Ms. Cillie. We’ll do our best to help you find your fiancé.”
“It’s… it’s Cille, actually. And he… was my fiancé. I haven’t even seen him in almost a year. I don’t think the engagement is even still on.”
“I see. But you’re still determined to find him?”
“I… yes, I want to see him again. There’s so much I need to know about him. I… I just need to talk to him again.”
“I understand. We’ll do what we can to help you… if, of course, you’re prepared to do what you can for our cause.”
She nodded. She still didn’t feel particularly ready to run into battle, but there was no turning back now.
“Well then!” he said, suddenly much more upbeat, “we’d better get going. We’re already running late, and I can’t have people calling me slow.” With that he turned and strode toward the exit. Cille looked after him and then back toward the inner door, completely bewildered.
“But… this… isn’t this…” she stammered.
“The meeting place?” he finished for her, turning back with a huge grin on his face. “Of course not. I couldn’t take you there until I knew that you could trust me. And now that that little item of business has been taken care of, it’s time to go to the real party.” He winked at her, and then headed out to the waiting car. After another several moments she followed him, wondering yet again what she had gotten herself into.
After another harrowing car ride, Cille and her escort found themselves at yet another abandoned building on what appeared to be the outskirts of town. This time Cougar was much more careful to hide the traces of his car, or at least what was left of it after it had nearly flown apart during the frenzied drive. Cille handled the trip only marginally better this time, but Cougar gave her some time to recover before they disembarked. He led her straight into the building, nodding at the old gentleman reading the paper on the door stoop, and as they descended down the stairs they began to hear what sounded like a multitude of voices shouting at each other.
"Okay, peepole, calm ze hell down!" one voice tried to yell above the uproar. "We got crezzey sheet going down, zo now we must feegure out how to deal weez eet!"
Gradually the clamor in the room subsided, amid the Frenchman’s repeated pleas for order. Cille apprehensively followed Cougar into the room, trying mostly unsuccessfully to see past his tall frame. She could see a man wearing an ascot standing on a chair and waving his arms around, whom she guessed was the one who had been shouting. He looked toward them, and seemed pleased and somewhat relieved to see who had come through the door.
“Ah, Cougar, bon soir… Eet eez good of you to make eet tonight,” he said, descending from his makeshift podium and coming toward them with an outstretched hand. As he clasped his colleague’s hand, he noticed Cille standing behind him. His smile grew even broader, especially as he saw her eyes widen as she realized just where she had heard this accented voice before. “And you, mademoiselle… I have wondered how long eet would be for you to join us. May I extend my deepest greetings to you.” He bowed grandly in true continental style, complete with ascot-fluffing. She felt her cheeks redden, both from the shock of realizing the true identity of Luna’s faithful pastry chef and from the extravagance of his welcoming display.
Meanwhile the room had fallen silent as the Frenchman’s cohorts inspected the new arrivals. Looking back at them, Cille recognized some of the regulars from Luna’s restaurant, and it was clear that more than a few of them recognized her. The room began buzzing again as people realized who it was who had joined them. And they did not all appear to be happy about it.
“You idiot,” one woman hissed, rising from her seat. “Why did you bring her here? You know she’s been under government surveillance. Do you want to give us all away?”
“You forget,” Cougar said with a mischievous grin, “that I’m with the government too. And I’ve been doing some surveillance of my own. We haven’t been followed; I made sure of that. And I believe we can trust Cillie. She’s just trying to find her fiancé and her son, not sell us all out.”
“Hmph…” the woman snorted. “Like you even know what you’re talking about. I’m still not entirely sure we can trust you.”
“Zpice, take eet eezy,” Hikki said wearily. “We’re all on ze edge, but eef we ztart going at each ozzer’s sroats zen eet weel only make sings worse.”
Spice sat down, looking a little sulky, and glared at the outsider. “Damn elitist…” she muttered. Cille was taken aback by the insults, but she tried her best not to let the hostility get to her too much. She knew she had no right to expect the rebels to accept her, and she probably should have been prepared for this sort of welcome. And it would have done her no good to retort. Fortunately Hikki was determined to get his people back on track, and he didn’t waste any time launching into the night’s business.
"Allors, leezen up, peepole," he said commandingly, after gallantly showing Cille to an empty chair, "I know we are all greatly deestressed by ze untimely loss of our comrades Heero and Reeza, and we shall address ze matter of zeir final arrangements presently. But zere eez now an even more pressing crizees zat we must address... as you know, Samson and Père Sadar went today to Comdot Estate to zeek eenformation related to our cause. Our friend Avril here was zupposed to meet zem and retrieve ze eenformation to breeng back to us, but zey failed to appear at ze planned rendezvous."
“Um… it’s April, man. You always get me confused with that crappy chick-rock singer…” April was a Syndicate member who preferred doing covert work in the field, and often served as a scout or runner for the group. He was a master of disguises, and also a transvestite. His disguises and acting abilities were so good that very few people knew for sure whether he was a man or a woman.
“Yeah,” he continued, “I waited for like three hours, but Samson never showed. I didn’t see any sign of the priest, either. So I don’t know what’s going on with them, and I didn’t get any of the intel they were supposed to bring me either.”
“Eet eez not like our leetle Samson to be less than punctuelle… zo I must fear zat he has fallen eento zome meesfortune… Ah, cher Sammie… mon petit gateau de sucre…” The poor distraught man’s overwrought emotions finally got the better of him, and he collapsed into his chair, sobbing and pouring his heart out in what one could only assume was something resembling French. Clarice patted his shoulder sympathetically, as everyone else in the room started talking noisily amongst themselves again.
Cille glanced back at Cougar, who was leaning against a wall with his arms crossed. The shadows obscured his face, but she thought she saw something troubled in his pensive expression. It was no wonder, really, given everything that the Syndicate seemed to be going through, but he didn’t seem at all inclined to join in the discussion about the missing Samson.
Suddenly out of nowhere a random cello tune started playing. It was then that Cille noticed a young man with a scruffy beard, glasses, and a cowboy hat who just happened to be holding – and now playing – a cello. Having succeeded in attracting everyone’s attention, he stopped playing and took a deep breath in preparation for addressing his comrades.
“Dooooooooooooon’t freak oooooooouuuuuuut…” he sang in a rather impressive operatic voice, complete with an array of vocal acrobatics.
A distinct “the hell?” vibe fell over the room. Finally Spice let out a Kif sigh and leaned sharply back in her chair, rubbing her temples.
“Seriously, Cowboy, do you have to sing every freaking thing you say? And what’s with the cello? Where the hell did you even get that thing? And how did you get it in here?”
Cowboy stuck his tongue out at Spice, but figured he could probably see fit to knock off the singing before she beat him up. “I swiped it from some long-haired guy in a suit yesterday. He was with some chick in a schoolgirl uniform, and he was trying to convince her to take this sword and do something with it. He didn’t even notice me until I was running away with his cello case, and when he did, he just stood there looking at me totally indifferently. It’s kind of too bad that I couldn’t stick around… he was pretty damn hawt…”
“PEEEEPOOOOOOOLE… SAAAAAAAMSOOOOOONNNN…” Hikki seemed about at the end of his wits. His eyebrows were even twitching by this point.
There wasn’t much the rest of them could do but get back on topic and start planning Samson’s rescue.
Eventually they settled on two teams to go scouting at Comdot Estate, and they set about conferring with each other to come up with a strategy for the rescue operation.
“I’ll get back out on the street and see what I can find out,” April offered.
“Tres bien.” Hikki seemed relieved that they were finally taking action. “Cowboy, you ztart makeeng ze arrangements for ze funeral of Heero and Reeza. Contact our friend Roxie een ze coroner’s offeece… she should be able to help you retrieve what eez left of ze bodeez. Zey may sink zey can take away ze heeroez of ze peepole, but we weel geev zem a true heero's memorial!” After posing triumphantly for a moment, he was struck by a further inspiration: “Hey, and you can play your chelleaux at ze serveece.”
“Okaaaaaaaaaaaaa-“ Cowboy’s cadenza was cut short by a flying shoe coming from the direction of Spice. Meanwhile, a guy who called himself Real Coolman muttered to himself about people’s inability to correctly spell words of Italian origin and went back to scribbling German rock lyrics in his yuri doujinshi.
Just as it seemed that the meeting was ready to adjourn, the chatter was suddenly interrupted by another announcement.
“Wait. There’s something else that we have to address.” Cougar stepped forward out of the shadows. Cille was struck by the new authoritative tone in his voice. “You’re not going to like hearing this… It’s about Ozzal.”
“What about her?” Spice asked. “We already know she’s a self-serving, back-stabbing, spam-hating betch. What more reason do we need to kick her ass?”
“This is something a little more serious than spam, or even the individual goals of any of us here. It concerns the fate of all of Actonia.”
“What is it, then?”
Cougar took a deep breath. “It seems that Ozzal has secretly been in league with some of the more corrupt officials within Comedia’s government. Her efforts to crush the dissent in the outlying areas and build up Orly as her own personal bastion have all been part of a greater plan – to merge Actonia and Comedia and create a superpower that none of the other countries would dare to oppose. We know she’s never gotten over her failure in Babblstan, and she has to be frustrated by the way things are bogged down in Rantonia. So her solution seems to be to allow Comedia to take over and then use its resources to fight her wars.”
“Wait, why would Ozzal need to go around making covert deals with Comedia’s leaders?” Gottel asked. “We’re already close allies with them. Sure, there are people in both countries who think we should break away from each other, and try to stir crap up between us every once in a while, but nobody really takes them seriously.”
“Yeah,” Cowboy added, “you remember that supposed assassination plot against Comedia’s president a while back? Even that didn’t blow up as much as some people expected, even though there were accusations that Actonia might have been involved somehow.”
“Yarrrrr! Shiver me timbers!” Captain Yemmen contributed.
“So yeah…” Spice said, leveling an accusing glare at their informant, “What the hell are you talking about?”
“This goes beyond a mere alliance,” Cougar answered. “It isn’t enough that she has Comedia’s friendship. She won’t be satisfied until she has complete control over everything they have. And then it’s just a matter of time before she conquers the rest of the known world. You know how these things work.”
It was finally beginning to make sense. Everybody knew that a supervillain’s greatest motivation was the desire for more power.
“But wait,” Hikki said, “you zaid zat Ozzal was planneeng to let Comedia take ovar ze country… I happen to know zat surrendering eez not ze greatezt way to gain more powar...”
“I’m sure she’s planning to assert her own dominance once everything is in place. She can hand over Actonia as a pretense and then work her way back up to the top the same way she did here, violently if need be. It doesn’t matter to her what happens to the country, as long as whatever’s left is hers.”
“It sounds more like she’s trying to turn Actonia into a new empire, not destroy it,” Spice pointed out.
“It might sound that way… but consider the fact that she’s been gradually wiping out Lower Actonia and concentrating all of the country’s wealth in the capital city. Comedia is undeniably more prosperous than Actonia has ever been, so why not just cut your losses and annex your territory to theirs?”
“Then… that means…”
“Right.” Cougar looked grim. “If Ozzal has her way… there will be no Actonia.”
DUN DUN DUNNNNNNNNN
Chapter 12 author’s notes:
Recurring characters:
Cille Compton – Cille
Raef Compton- Maenos
Landon Blaken – Blah_canbespanish
Luna Monegossde – MoonGoddess17
Eric Ominae- OMNI-Enforcer
Hikki Follet – Kohikki
Spice – spiceweasel228
Gottel – lgott23
Captain Yemman – myname
Clarice Rowe – QueenoftheDorks
Samson Monroe – MasterSamson
Father Sadar – FurionTassadar
Heero Yuy – HeeroYuy135
Michelle Ozzal – Mike Lazzo
The old lookout at the Syndicate hideout – Norman Burg (Big O)
Riza – Riza Hawkeye (Fullmetal Alchemist)
New characters:
The proprietress of Ghost’s Book Shop – Ghost_of_a_Librarian
April – LirpaYamEnujYluj
Cowboy – CowboyCadenza
Real Coolman – Real_AirCooledMan
Roxie – anime_goddess05
Yurika Dojima – Witch Hunter Robin
Straight Cougar – s-CRY-ed
Hagi – Blood+
Saya – Blood+
The fate of Raef’s parents may be considered a reference to Winry’s parents in Fullmetal Alchemist.
New locations:
Harry’s – Witch Hunter Robin
Pop culture references:
The Scarlet Pimpernel by Baroness Emmuska Orczy – The book that Cille finds in Ghost’s Book Shop. Also, the early relationship between Landon and Cille is reminiscent of the courtship of Percy and Marguerite. (At least the actual Cille thinks so.)
Avril Lavigne – A “crappy chick-rock singer” whose name is remarkably similar to what Hikki calls April.
French language notes:
Avril – April
mon petit gâteau de sucre– my little sugar cake
It’s amazing, thought Cille, how quickly lives can change.
It was a thought she had had with almost alarming frequency in the last two years or so – when she had lost her parents, and then found herself the mother to a teenage boy, when she surprised even herself by becoming engaged to a man she barely knew, and when her fiancé was suddenly gone without a trace.
She had to wonder, with a touch of both amusement and bitterness, just how she had gotten to this point. On the surface she seemed to have a life that anybody would envy: She had been born into one of the more prominent and well-to-do families in Orly, and her parents had been savvy enough to maintain their lifestyle amid the political and social turmoil of the last decade. She had gotten a good education, and had a respectable (if not overly exciting) job that more than took care of her expenses. She was generally well regarded within the community, even if there were those who resented her for her status, and she tried not to let that status go to her head. She had many acquaintances but only a few close friends, among them Eric Ominae and Luna Monegossde; Eric had been a friend of her family since before Cille was born, and Cille had befriended Luna shortly after the latter’s arrival in Orly from Comedia.
Cille had had the benefit of a happy family life, too. She was her parents’ only child, and they made sure to instill a sense of responsibility and integrity in the girl who would one day inherit the family fortune. It was a very caring environment, and even as her father quietly struggled and sacrificed to keep his family secure, Cille never felt like anything could change their happy life.
Change did come in the form of a young boy who came to stay with the family the summer after Cille turned thirteen. Raef’s father had served with Cille’s in the army (“back when there was honor in the military,” as her father had been known to grumble), and they had remained steadfast friends after returning to civilian life, despite belonging to decidedly different social classes. With the elder Compton’s help, both of Raef’s parents became doctors and dedicated themselves to serving patients in the less privileged areas of Orly and the surrounding towns. When they decided to use their medical skills to help those who were being injured in the ongoing military conflict in Babblstan, they left their young son with the Comptons and their teenage daughter. None of them could have guessed that the addition to the family would be permanent. When the two doctors were killed in an ambush, there was little their grieving friends could do but take in their son and raise him as part of their own family.
And so the happy home life continued for the expanded family. Eventually Cille struck out on her own, starting a new job and moving into her own apartment. Raef dedicated himself to schoolwork and took an interest in history and engineering. And then one night eleven years after Raef had joined the Compton family, it was torn apart in a car crash that killed both of Cille’s parents. For the first time in her life, Cille felt the pain of losing something infinitely dear to her.
As difficult as it was for Cille to come to terms with the loss, it was even harder on Raef, who had been left orphaned for the second time. Making his situation even more grave was the fact that the government had recently instituted a policy forcing all parentless boys between the ages of 14-18 to enter military school. The measure had been pushed through the national assembly by a general named Ozzal, who had argued that drastic measures were needed to boost the army’s lagging enlistment numbers. Since Raef opposed joining the increasingly corrupt army, and Cille didn’t want to lose the only family she had left, they came up with a plan to circumvent the rule – Cille would formally adopt him, thereby saving him from needing to be registered as an orphan. Eric helped them by calling in a favor with an old Navy buddy who had a daughter working in the records department, and all of a sudden Cille was the legal mother of a fourteen-year-old boy.
She still found the whole arrangement rather amusing, especially since she wasn’t anywhere near old enough to be Raef’s biological mother. But those who knew him as her “son” seemed to take it in stride, and those who didn’t know them probably figured (aptly enough) that she was his older sister. She had certainly never had any aspirations to be a mother, and fortunately Raef was not the sort of kid who needed a lot of discipline. He had always been remarkably mature, seldom straying from the established rules, and she often joked that he would have made the better parent.
In the following weeks as she went about settling her parents’ affairs, Cille made the startling discovery that their assets were not anywhere near what one might have expected. It seemed that most of their wealth had been used up as her father tried to continue providing a comfortable life for his family and keep up with his habit of philanthropy. Fortunately it was not completely exhausted, but this meant that Cille and Raef would not be able to rely on their inheritance to get by. Cille came to feel a certain amount of gratitude to her parents for encouraging her to work hard and build her own life.
Cille’s family and work had always come before any thoughts of a love life. She had never been one to rush into things, particularly when it came to romance. But her involvement with Landon Blaken had definitely been what you’d call a whirlwind. They had made each other’s acquaintance one evening at Luna’s restaurant, several months after her parents’ death. He was a soldier, staying in the city for a few nights before he headed back to his hometown to visit his family. Luna introduced the two of them and encouraged them to get to know each other, perhaps thinking that her friend could use some cheering up. Cille was impressed with Landon, even if she couldn’t explain just why, and she looked forward to meeting him for dinner at the restaurant each night. Of course she didn’t expect much to come of it, knowing that she would probably never see him again once he had left town. But then, a week after he had gone back to his hometown, he arrived back in Orly hoping to see Cille again. And thence began a grand love affair that few could ever dream of. For once in her life Cille allowed herself to get swept up in impetuous emotions, and when Landon proposed to her (right in Luna’s restaurant, much to the Comedienne’s delight), she felt sure that this was the man she wanted to be with for the rest of her life.
And so Landon took an extended leave from the army and came to live in Orly with Cille and Raef. The boy idolized his new father-to-be, listening eagerly to his stories of military history and his experiences in the army. Once again it seemed that Cille would have the kind of idyllic family life that she and Raef had lost.
And then Michelle Ozzal forcibly took control of Actonia’s government and named herself Head Governor, after years of trying to exert her influence on the country and work her way up the political ladder. News of her past underhanded exploits began to leak out and was just as quickly silenced, even as she took to gradually tightening her grasp on the country and the lives of its people.
The new political and social climate had a profound effect on Landon. It vexed him that a member of the military that he served would use her position to oppress the people. He was also upset to see what was happening in his hometown, which like most of the small towns in Lower Actonia was facing especially harsh treatment. He began taking increasingly frequent trips, telling Cille that he was being called out on official assignments or going to visit his family and friends. When they received news that Landon’s entire family had been killed by military police at a town meeting protesting the new regime, Landon’s grief turned quickly to rage. The next day he was gone, leaving behind only a note telling Cille and Raef that he had gone to avenge the deaths of his family. That was the last time Cille had seen her fiancé.
Cille was crushed by his departure. She had always wanted to trust him, and something in her heart told her that she should. And so she had never inquired about his frequent absences or just what his work entailed, although she would have gladly listened if he had wanted to tell her. Some may have called her naïve and foolish, and since his disappearance she had been more inclined to agree. But there was no changing that now, and she had done her best to move on with her life in the months since he had disappeared. She couldn’t entirely help thinking of him from time to time, though, and she followed the news stories about the incipient revolution with more interest than she would have cared to admit.
Raef had a difficult time accepting their abandonment as well. He began having trouble in school, getting into fights with other students and neglecting his schoolwork. Cille tried her best to encourage him, and he managed to get by, but he never seemed as idealistic or focused as he had been.
And then out of nowhere he was gone too. In the days following Luna’s dreadful announcement, Cille and her friends searched frantically for any sign of where he might have gone. Cille contacted his school and discovered that he had been frequently absent in the past few months, and had apparently been giving his teachers forged notes from his mother excusing him from class or responding to the letters of warning that he had never bothered to give to her. She began to wonder if he had gone after Landon and his Syndicate, perhaps still angry at his former father figure, or perhaps hoping to join their cause. With the news that he had been kidnapped, it seemed ever more likely that he had gotten involved with the rebels, but try as she might Cille was unable to find any trace of him.
She had always been careful to distance herself from the rumblings of revolution. She didn’t like Ozzal or her corrupt policies any more than anyone else, but she had too much to lose to get involved with opposing factions. And so like many of the other residents of Orly, she simply went about her life amid vague feelings of discontent and the hope that things would get better. Even after Landon had left her, and she discovered the truth about him and the Blacken Syndicate, she was even more careful to avoid looking suspicious for fear of becoming a target for Ozzal’s minions. And so it was no small feat for her to go about tracking down her missing loved ones. She tried everything she could think of short of shouting for them in the street, but after nearly two weeks she felt no closer to finding them than when she had started.
And then one day she arrived home to find a bouquet of flowers in the hallway, just inside the front door. Her thoughts immediately jumped to Landon and the tokens of affection he would send her during their courtship. Her pulse quickened even more as she recognized the main flowers in the arrangement – tiger lilies, which had always been special to her as a reminder of the flowers growing around the summer home in the country that her family had had before the political situation convinced her parents to stay in the city. But the only ones who knew about her affection for the flowers were Raef, who had also lived in that house for a time, and Landon…
Her apprehension giving way to a fervent desire to know who might have delivered the gift and why, she hastily picked up the bouquet and took it into her room for a closer inspection. There was no card or any markings on the basket, so she took to rifling through the foliage. Having pulled out nearly all of the flowers, she discovered a small scrap of paper near the bottom wedged into the green foam block.
She could barely make out the scrawled words. Whoever had written the note must have been in one hell of a hurry. But it looked like “your son”… and was that the word “safe”? It seemed to be trying to tell her that Raef was all right, much to her great relief. The only other thing in the note was “Harry’s,” which she recognized as the name of a restaurant, and a time, 8pm. She looked at her watch. It was just after 6:30. That would give her plenty of time to get across town by 8. She paused, though, scrutinizing the note even more closely. There was still no clue as to who had left the bouquet, or who it was who wanted to meet her at Harry’s. Could it be that Raef would be there to reunite with her? Or was something more sinister afoot?
After considering the situation for a few minutes, she decided that she had to at least go to see what this was all about. Harry’s was a public place, and tended to be busy in the evenings, so if she ran into trouble at least there would be plenty of people around to help her. Shoving the note into her pocket, she glanced at the flowers and greenery strewed on her bed. She could clean that up later.
When she arrived at the restaurant, the place was packed as usual. She was looking around for any sign of anyone she would recognize, and wondering if she would even be able to find a place to sit down, when one of the restaurant waitstaff approached her. She had feathered blonde hair and a perky smile.
“Ms. Compton?” she asked.
“Yes…” Cille answered, somewhat uncertainly.
“We’ve got a table reserved for you. Right this way, please.”
Cille was slightly baffled. She certainly hadn’t called ahead to let the restaurant know she was coming. She followed the girl to a small table near the front of the restaurant. It was unoccupied, with only one place setting.
As Cille sat down, the waitress handed her a menu. “My name’s Yurika. Take a few minutes and I’ll be back for your order.”
“Thank you,” Cille murmured. She was glad she had at least remembered to grab her purse on the way out. With a nod and a smile, the waitress turned to go. “Excuse me, miss…” Cille said suddenly. The girl turned back to her expectantly. “Are there… How many people are you expecting for this reservation?”
“Mmmm… just one, I think,” she answered. “Why, are you expecting someone else?”
“I… I was just wondering,” Cille said. The girl nodded and headed back into the dining room.
A short while later Cille sat munching on a salad, still puzzling over this strange turn of events. It was now well after eight o’clock, and there had been no sign of anyone coming to meet her. She gazed absentmindedly out the window, watching the cars go past on the dark street. Yurika came to clear things away, and then brought the bill, and still no one came. Finally, after waiting in the restaurant for nearly three hours, Cille decided to give up and go home.
She arrived home to find her apartment completely trashed. Someone had gone through nearly every room in the place, rifling through drawers and closets and even slashing up some of the furniture. For several moments Cille just stood there in shock, trying to absorb what in the hell had happened there. Then she collapsed and burst into tears. It terrified her to think of what might have happened to her if she hadn’t gone out when she did. Through her tears she noticed a tiger lily blossom lying trampled on the ground. She clutched at it, breaking down into even more wrenching sobs.
It took a long while for her to regain her composure and begin to think about what she should do. She knew she couldn’t stay in her wrecked apartment for the night, so she called Luna to ask if she could come stay with her. Luna could tell that there was something wrong with her friend, but it wasn’t until Cille arrived at her place that she got the full explanation of what had happened. They agreed that it would be best to lay low at least until they could find out what had happened. Cille suspected that Ozzal’s police may have been there looking for information about Landon or Raef, but she didn’t dare say anything of the sort to her friend.
The next morning, after a sleepless night, Cille called in to work to ask for some time off. Her boss responded by telling her that her employment had been terminated. He seemed sympathetic, but said that it was in the firm’s “best interest” to let her go. She was too stunned to challenge the decision, and he wished her luck.
Suddenly that perfect life had completely crumbled. Her family, her work, even a home of her own had all been taken from her. For the first time in her life she felt completely hopeless.
For the next several days she hung around at Luna’s place, not even really feeling like continuing her search for Raef or even finding out who had ransacked her apartment. Luna felt sorry for her, but figured that Cille could use some time to deal with the trauma she had just gone through. She also had the sense to realize that if Ozzal’s people really were looking for Cille, it would be better for her to stay out of sight. And in fact she noticed, from time to time, that there were unfamiliar people who seemed to be taking a sudden unusual interest in her restaurant. She and her staff agreed to keep on doing business as if nothing were amiss, and fortunately they didn’t have any trouble on account of their guest.
After several days of moping around being emo, Cille finally decided that it was time to snap out of it. At the very least she still had to find Raef, and if she herself was going to be a target for Ozzal’s thought police, she wanted to be prepared to face whatever might be in store for her. She had very little left to lose, so it was finally time to cast aside her last remaining qualms and fulfill her true destiny as the inexperienced but resolute protagonist of an anime-related fanfiction story.
Of course, she still had no idea how she was actually going to accomplish this. There was still that small matter of tracking down the Syndicate without getting arrested. She mused over possible courses of action as she headed down to the restaurant to grab a bite to eat before heading out for the day.
Luna noticed that there was something different about her friend’s demeanor. “You seem more like your old self today,” she commented as she handed Cille her tea.
“You think so, huh?” Cille replied. She still didn’t want to tell Luna too much for fear of implicating her friend any further. “I think I’ll have two muffins today. I’m going out later.”
“Really?” Luna seemed concerned. “I hope you’ll be careful. There are probably still people looking for you. I’ve been asking around, and it seems pretty certain that the people who were in your apartment were with the military police.”
“That’s… what I was afraid of…” Cille admitted. “But I need to find out what’s really going on here. I’ll be careful… but it’s time for me to actually do something. There’s only so much mulling over backstory that a girl can take.”
Luna nodded. She knew how determined Cille could be, especially when the alternative was going another ten chapters without being mentioned.
“You’ll have to settle for a couple of yesterday’s muffins,” she said, starting back toward the kitchen. “Hikki didn’t show up this morning to start baking.”
“That’s fine,” Cille answered. Hikki’s baking was so good that even day-old muffins tasted better than fresh ones elsewhere.
“Hmmm… maybe you’d better take these back up to your room…” Luna said, coming back with Cille’s breakfast. Cille surreptitiously followed her gaze toward the front window. A couple of men in long coats were talking to each other, occasionally glancing toward the restaurant.
“You’ve seen them before?” Cille asked.
Luna nodded. “They’ve been hanging around the place for a few days. I think it’s pretty clear who they are.” She handed the muffins to Cille. She had wrapped them in brown paper. “When you’re ready to go out, you can use the back fire exit just down the hall from your room. Just be careful.”
Cille nodded, thanked her friend, and headed back toward her room, weighing whether she should simply make a break for it right now. She decided to at least stop back into her room to pick up a few of her belongings. She gathered up what little she had there, and paused when she came to the bruised and wilted tiger lily that she had unconsciously brought with her the night of the ransacking. It was right on the dresser where she had left it, but now there was what looked like a card underneath it that she was quite sure hadn’t been there before. She quickly picked it up and opened it to find another hastily scrawled note in what looked like the same hand as before. This one was much more lengthy, and contained a detailed set of directions to some meeting place. Fortunately it was much more legible than the last one. Cille idly wondered if her mysterious contact would actually show up this time after putting her through so much extra work. But, with Ozzal’s minions close on her trail, she didn’t exactly have time to debate with herself. Trying to muster up the courage she had a feeling she would need, she grabbed her bag of muffins and made for the fire exit.
Cille followed her contact’s directions exactly. They had taken her through numerous streets and alleyways and even a few detours into shops to bide her time and try to lose any pursuers in the crowds. She soon found herself in an unfamiliar part of town, one that was decidedly more run-down than the areas she usually frequented, but fortunately not so rough that she felt unsafe. Her ultimate destination, she found, was a small hole-in-the-wall shop that she would have walked right by if she hadn’t been paying close attention. As it was she could barely make out the faded writing on the weathered panel above the door: “Ghost’s Book Shop.” Peering cautiously into the small front window, she saw a dimly-lit room lined with what appeared to be bookshelves. With one final “here we go” look up at the signboard, Cille opened the door and slipped into the shop.
She was greeted by the distinctive smell of a place that has been the home to a lot of books – and not much else – for a very long time. It was not unpleasant, but Cille had to wonder just how long it had been since anybody had cleaned the place. She didn’t immediately see anyone else in the shop, and so her gaze wandered to the mass of books lining the walls. Most of them looked like they hadn’t been touched in ages. Here and there she noticed a familiar title, but most of what she saw seemed pretty obscure. One particular title caught her attention; as she reached for it, she was startled by a woman’s voice behind her.
“Welcome! Can I help you find anything special today?”
Cille turned to find an older woman smiling expectantly at her. Her long, flowing skirt and blouse complemented her long, flowing hair, and she had an old-fashioned sort of style about her that seemed perfectly at home among the shelves of old books.
“No, I’m… just browsing.”
“Well, that’s all right too, that’s what this place is here for!” The woman answered cheerfully. “If there is anything you’ve got in mind, just ask. I know every book in this place.”
“Thank you,” Cille said. She still wasn’t quite sure what to make of this woman, but something about her friendly demeanor was definitely helping to put her at ease.
“Can I get you something while you’re looking? Maybe some nice hot tea? My treat.”
“That… that would be nice, yes. Thank you.”
With a nod and yet another smile, the woman hurried off to some back corner of the shop to procure her tea. Cille looked after her for another moment, feeling vaguely contemplative, and then turned her attention back to the shelves she had been inspecting. Having once again located the book that had caught her interest, she carefully pulled it from the shelf and began gingerly leafing through the yellowed pages.
“Here we go,” the old proprietress called jovially, returning with a small cup of tea and a plate of scones. As she handed them to Cille, she peered over her shoulder at the cover of the now-closed book. “Oh, very nice choice!” she chirped. Cille suspected that she would have said the same about any book in the shop. “You’re welcome to stay here as long as you like, if you’d like to sit and read for a bit. I’d recommend the table up at the front window,” she added, gesturing toward the front of the shop. “You’ll get the best light there, and there’s a nice view of the street if you feel like getting distracted.” She winked, and Cille had the feeling that the woman could sense how much she had on her mind. Cille nodded, thanking her again for her hospitality, and then the woman excused herself to go back to her undoubtedly fascinating work in the back storage room.
And so it was that Cille found herself sitting at a small table with a cup of hot tea and a well-worn copy of The Scarlet Pimpernel, trying to act casual despite the nerves turning her insides into some manner of stew. This was the place her contact had specified, she was sure of it, and still there was no one here to meet her. The old woman who ran the shop seemed like an unlikely prospect; she probably hadn’t even left the place in years, and Cille couldn’t imagine that a fastidious bookworm would have such atrocious handwriting. And so Cille waited, idly gazing at the unturned pages of her book and the empty street outside, wondering how long she would have to keep this up before something actually happened. She nibbled on the scones, silently thanking the proprietress for being so thoughtful. They were surprisingly good, especially since her breakfast muffins had worn off quite a while ago and she hadn’t thought to stop somewhere for lunch.
A few minutes that seemed like an eternity later, Cille saw a car pulling up by the curb. She watched it, wondering if this was her contact arriving, but no one got out. Then, impetuously, she rose and started for the door, leaving the book on the table and taking one final look around the still-empty shop. If this was her contact, perhaps he was waiting for her to come out and meet him. And if not… well, she was going to find out.
As she approached the car, the driver glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and nonchalantly rolled down the window. His appearance struck Cille as being rather strange – he had a shock of orange hair, with streaks of white running down the side, and a somewhat awkwardly prominent nose and chin. She couldn’t see much more of him, but he seemed quite tall and lanky, as if it felt uncomfortable for him to be constrained in such a small space behind the steering wheel. He wore a long gray overcoat, despite the fact that the day had been quite warm. He seemed fairly amused by the way that Cille was sizing him up.
“Need a ride? It’s fast and cheap.”
This was an… odd choice for a code phrase, Cille thought, but she didn’t see how it could be anything other than an invitation. After another moment of sizing up the driver and his car, and casting a furtive glance around her to see who might be watching, she opened the rear door and got into the back seat. Their eyes met in the rearview mirror, and the man gave her a wink. She wasn’t sure whether to feel reassured or unsettled.
He didn’t say anything as he put the car in gear and drove away from the book shop. As much as Cille was dying to know who this man was and just what he wanted with her, she found herself reluctant to say too much until she knew how trustworthy he was. Finally she decided to take a cagey approach and see what she could get out of him.
“That was a nice bouquet. How did you know that tiger lilies are my favorite flower?” she ventured.
She saw him grinning in the rearview mirror. “I know a lot of things, Ms. Cillie.”
Cillie? That was a new one. She wasn’t about to correct him, though. She was still trying to decide how much to let on about herself and what she knew… and his assertion wasn’t doing much to put her at ease. He had obviously been keeping an eye on her, but for what purpose? Of course she desperately hoped that he was an ally of Landon’s, but she couldn’t shake the possibility that she had walked right into a trap.
He seemed to know exactly what she was thinking. “I’m glad you decided to accept my invitation back then. Those fellows from the goon squad did quite a number on your apartment.”
“Your… invitation? So it was you who stood me up, then?”
He seemed slightly abashed at the suggestion. “Wellll… let’s just say that it might have been a little soon for our first date. There’s still a lot we don’t know about each other.”
“Indeed.” He had a strange and rather disarming sense of humor, that Cille definitely hadn’t expected. She still wasn’t really sure what to make of him, but at least he didn’t seem especially threatening.
“We’ll have plenty of time for that later,” he continued. “Right now, we’ve got a meeting to get to.”
And with that, all rainbow-colored hell broke loose around Cille. She had no earthly idea what was going on, but somehow the car was morphing around her into something… pink? And vaguely organic looking? And then they were speeding off into oblivion, and Cille was suddenly glad that she didn’t have too much in her stomach. It was all she could do to stay upright as they careened down what she hoped was still the road. She squeezed her eyes shut and clutched at whatever might be handy, and became vaguely aware that the whooping and hollering from the front seat was actually forming words now. “You see, Ms. Cillie,” she made out, and from there it was an aural blur that she couldn’t even begin to process. There was something about seizing opportunities… something about hesitating… or was it not hesitating? Hell if she knew, and at the moment she was rather more concerned with not ralphing than with catching all of the nuances of his apparently inspirational diatribe. He seemed blithely oblivious to the discomfort of his passenger, and it was not until the car screeched to a halt that he paused for breath.
“Don’t you think so, Ms. Cillie?” he asked, craning around to look at her. She wearily raised her head and mumbled something that even she didn’t understand. “Well…” he continued, seeming only mildly nonplused at her lack of conversational skills, “you can just think about that for now. Something profound like that takes a little pondering.” He hopped out of the car and strode around to open the door for her. “They’ll be waiting for us,” he said, extending a hand to help her out.
It was a good thing she had his arm to lean on as they walked toward the waiting building. From what she could see as she tottered along, they were in another run-down part of town. This one looked like it had fared even worse, and Cille was relieved that she hadn’t had to come there alone. It occurred to her that a gargantuan pink car was not the most subtle thing to be leaving around in a place like this, but the car’s driver seemed unconcerned. By the time they made their way into the nondescript and apparently abandoned building, Cille’s carsickness was giving way to nervous anticipation about what they might find there.
“So there’s a meeting here that we –“ she began, before stumbling over a broken tile on the floor. She grabbed at her companion’s coat, and as he helped her up she caught sight of what he was wearing underneath it: a uniform, similar to the type that Landon had worn, but lavender and white instead of the usual dark colors. Which meant… that he was with the military…
She froze, and then wrenched herself away from his grasp and backed away from him. He immediately understood her alarm, and made no move to go after her – until she suddenly darted for the door. “Cille, wait!” he shouted, grabbing her arm on the way by. She whirled to face him, and he was probably lucky she wasn’t more violently inclined.
“Tell me who you are and what’s going on…” she hissed, “or I’m screaming this place down.”
He regarded her defiant glare for another moment, and then sighed and released her arm.
“All right. The name’s Straight Cougar. I used to work within the military’s HOLY unit for Alter users, which you probably know was disbanded last year. I managed to stay on in what you might call a freelance position. They let me keep the uniform… it comes in handy for getting where I need to go.” He cocked a half-sheepish smile. She was somewhat less than impressed. “I don’t answer to any particular higher-ups, which means I’m largely free to pursue my own work,” he continued, “…which makes it a lot easier to follow my own causes.”
“And are you going to tell me what those are?” she demanded.
He smiled, a little more indulgently this time. “I would think… you might have an idea after everything you’ve been through lately. I can understand your reluctance to trust me, though. You can’t be too careful. You’re lucky, really, that I got to you before they did.”
“You mean those men at the restaurant…”
“Then you did notice them. Yeah, I’m not the only one who’s been keeping an eye on you.”
She considered the situation for a few moments. “All right then… if you are with the Syndicate… where is Landon?”
“I can’t tell you that right now.” Her eyes narrowed. “We can’t be too careful either. It’s enough for you to know that he wasn’t actually captured by Ozzal. The execution you read about was a fake set up to trap our agents.”
“And Raef?”
“He’s been rescued, as I mentioned in my first correspondence with you. I’m afraid it may be a little while before you can reunite with him, but I hope you won’t worry too much about him. He’s been working with us for quite some time. You might be surprised at how well he can handle himself.”
He grinned encouragingly, but she didn’t really notice. Her suspicions about Raef had been confirmed, and she wondered just how much more she had turned a blind eye to in the past. He let her muse for a few moments. “Landon is a good man, though,” he offered. “And it hurt him terribly to leave you and Raef.”
She looked back up at him. “You know Landon, then?”
He nodded. “He’s told me quite a lot about you,” he said, grinning again.
Her eyes fell again. If he still cared about her so much, why hadn’t he tried to contact her? At least to let her know he was okay?
He regarded her sympathetically for a moment. “Don’t worry, Ms. Cillie. We’ll do our best to help you find your fiancé.”
“It’s… it’s Cille, actually. And he… was my fiancé. I haven’t even seen him in almost a year. I don’t think the engagement is even still on.”
“I see. But you’re still determined to find him?”
“I… yes, I want to see him again. There’s so much I need to know about him. I… I just need to talk to him again.”
“I understand. We’ll do what we can to help you… if, of course, you’re prepared to do what you can for our cause.”
She nodded. She still didn’t feel particularly ready to run into battle, but there was no turning back now.
“Well then!” he said, suddenly much more upbeat, “we’d better get going. We’re already running late, and I can’t have people calling me slow.” With that he turned and strode toward the exit. Cille looked after him and then back toward the inner door, completely bewildered.
“But… this… isn’t this…” she stammered.
“The meeting place?” he finished for her, turning back with a huge grin on his face. “Of course not. I couldn’t take you there until I knew that you could trust me. And now that that little item of business has been taken care of, it’s time to go to the real party.” He winked at her, and then headed out to the waiting car. After another several moments she followed him, wondering yet again what she had gotten herself into.
After another harrowing car ride, Cille and her escort found themselves at yet another abandoned building on what appeared to be the outskirts of town. This time Cougar was much more careful to hide the traces of his car, or at least what was left of it after it had nearly flown apart during the frenzied drive. Cille handled the trip only marginally better this time, but Cougar gave her some time to recover before they disembarked. He led her straight into the building, nodding at the old gentleman reading the paper on the door stoop, and as they descended down the stairs they began to hear what sounded like a multitude of voices shouting at each other.
"Okay, peepole, calm ze hell down!" one voice tried to yell above the uproar. "We got crezzey sheet going down, zo now we must feegure out how to deal weez eet!"
Gradually the clamor in the room subsided, amid the Frenchman’s repeated pleas for order. Cille apprehensively followed Cougar into the room, trying mostly unsuccessfully to see past his tall frame. She could see a man wearing an ascot standing on a chair and waving his arms around, whom she guessed was the one who had been shouting. He looked toward them, and seemed pleased and somewhat relieved to see who had come through the door.
“Ah, Cougar, bon soir… Eet eez good of you to make eet tonight,” he said, descending from his makeshift podium and coming toward them with an outstretched hand. As he clasped his colleague’s hand, he noticed Cille standing behind him. His smile grew even broader, especially as he saw her eyes widen as she realized just where she had heard this accented voice before. “And you, mademoiselle… I have wondered how long eet would be for you to join us. May I extend my deepest greetings to you.” He bowed grandly in true continental style, complete with ascot-fluffing. She felt her cheeks redden, both from the shock of realizing the true identity of Luna’s faithful pastry chef and from the extravagance of his welcoming display.
Meanwhile the room had fallen silent as the Frenchman’s cohorts inspected the new arrivals. Looking back at them, Cille recognized some of the regulars from Luna’s restaurant, and it was clear that more than a few of them recognized her. The room began buzzing again as people realized who it was who had joined them. And they did not all appear to be happy about it.
“You idiot,” one woman hissed, rising from her seat. “Why did you bring her here? You know she’s been under government surveillance. Do you want to give us all away?”
“You forget,” Cougar said with a mischievous grin, “that I’m with the government too. And I’ve been doing some surveillance of my own. We haven’t been followed; I made sure of that. And I believe we can trust Cillie. She’s just trying to find her fiancé and her son, not sell us all out.”
“Hmph…” the woman snorted. “Like you even know what you’re talking about. I’m still not entirely sure we can trust you.”
“Zpice, take eet eezy,” Hikki said wearily. “We’re all on ze edge, but eef we ztart going at each ozzer’s sroats zen eet weel only make sings worse.”
Spice sat down, looking a little sulky, and glared at the outsider. “Damn elitist…” she muttered. Cille was taken aback by the insults, but she tried her best not to let the hostility get to her too much. She knew she had no right to expect the rebels to accept her, and she probably should have been prepared for this sort of welcome. And it would have done her no good to retort. Fortunately Hikki was determined to get his people back on track, and he didn’t waste any time launching into the night’s business.
"Allors, leezen up, peepole," he said commandingly, after gallantly showing Cille to an empty chair, "I know we are all greatly deestressed by ze untimely loss of our comrades Heero and Reeza, and we shall address ze matter of zeir final arrangements presently. But zere eez now an even more pressing crizees zat we must address... as you know, Samson and Père Sadar went today to Comdot Estate to zeek eenformation related to our cause. Our friend Avril here was zupposed to meet zem and retrieve ze eenformation to breeng back to us, but zey failed to appear at ze planned rendezvous."
“Um… it’s April, man. You always get me confused with that crappy chick-rock singer…” April was a Syndicate member who preferred doing covert work in the field, and often served as a scout or runner for the group. He was a master of disguises, and also a transvestite. His disguises and acting abilities were so good that very few people knew for sure whether he was a man or a woman.
“Yeah,” he continued, “I waited for like three hours, but Samson never showed. I didn’t see any sign of the priest, either. So I don’t know what’s going on with them, and I didn’t get any of the intel they were supposed to bring me either.”
“Eet eez not like our leetle Samson to be less than punctuelle… zo I must fear zat he has fallen eento zome meesfortune… Ah, cher Sammie… mon petit gateau de sucre…” The poor distraught man’s overwrought emotions finally got the better of him, and he collapsed into his chair, sobbing and pouring his heart out in what one could only assume was something resembling French. Clarice patted his shoulder sympathetically, as everyone else in the room started talking noisily amongst themselves again.
Cille glanced back at Cougar, who was leaning against a wall with his arms crossed. The shadows obscured his face, but she thought she saw something troubled in his pensive expression. It was no wonder, really, given everything that the Syndicate seemed to be going through, but he didn’t seem at all inclined to join in the discussion about the missing Samson.
Suddenly out of nowhere a random cello tune started playing. It was then that Cille noticed a young man with a scruffy beard, glasses, and a cowboy hat who just happened to be holding – and now playing – a cello. Having succeeded in attracting everyone’s attention, he stopped playing and took a deep breath in preparation for addressing his comrades.
“Dooooooooooooon’t freak oooooooouuuuuuut…” he sang in a rather impressive operatic voice, complete with an array of vocal acrobatics.
A distinct “the hell?” vibe fell over the room. Finally Spice let out a Kif sigh and leaned sharply back in her chair, rubbing her temples.
“Seriously, Cowboy, do you have to sing every freaking thing you say? And what’s with the cello? Where the hell did you even get that thing? And how did you get it in here?”
Cowboy stuck his tongue out at Spice, but figured he could probably see fit to knock off the singing before she beat him up. “I swiped it from some long-haired guy in a suit yesterday. He was with some chick in a schoolgirl uniform, and he was trying to convince her to take this sword and do something with it. He didn’t even notice me until I was running away with his cello case, and when he did, he just stood there looking at me totally indifferently. It’s kind of too bad that I couldn’t stick around… he was pretty damn hawt…”
“PEEEEPOOOOOOOLE… SAAAAAAAMSOOOOOONNNN…” Hikki seemed about at the end of his wits. His eyebrows were even twitching by this point.
There wasn’t much the rest of them could do but get back on topic and start planning Samson’s rescue.
Eventually they settled on two teams to go scouting at Comdot Estate, and they set about conferring with each other to come up with a strategy for the rescue operation.
“I’ll get back out on the street and see what I can find out,” April offered.
“Tres bien.” Hikki seemed relieved that they were finally taking action. “Cowboy, you ztart makeeng ze arrangements for ze funeral of Heero and Reeza. Contact our friend Roxie een ze coroner’s offeece… she should be able to help you retrieve what eez left of ze bodeez. Zey may sink zey can take away ze heeroez of ze peepole, but we weel geev zem a true heero's memorial!” After posing triumphantly for a moment, he was struck by a further inspiration: “Hey, and you can play your chelleaux at ze serveece.”
“Okaaaaaaaaaaaaa-“ Cowboy’s cadenza was cut short by a flying shoe coming from the direction of Spice. Meanwhile, a guy who called himself Real Coolman muttered to himself about people’s inability to correctly spell words of Italian origin and went back to scribbling German rock lyrics in his yuri doujinshi.
Just as it seemed that the meeting was ready to adjourn, the chatter was suddenly interrupted by another announcement.
“Wait. There’s something else that we have to address.” Cougar stepped forward out of the shadows. Cille was struck by the new authoritative tone in his voice. “You’re not going to like hearing this… It’s about Ozzal.”
“What about her?” Spice asked. “We already know she’s a self-serving, back-stabbing, spam-hating betch. What more reason do we need to kick her ass?”
“This is something a little more serious than spam, or even the individual goals of any of us here. It concerns the fate of all of Actonia.”
“What is it, then?”
Cougar took a deep breath. “It seems that Ozzal has secretly been in league with some of the more corrupt officials within Comedia’s government. Her efforts to crush the dissent in the outlying areas and build up Orly as her own personal bastion have all been part of a greater plan – to merge Actonia and Comedia and create a superpower that none of the other countries would dare to oppose. We know she’s never gotten over her failure in Babblstan, and she has to be frustrated by the way things are bogged down in Rantonia. So her solution seems to be to allow Comedia to take over and then use its resources to fight her wars.”
“Wait, why would Ozzal need to go around making covert deals with Comedia’s leaders?” Gottel asked. “We’re already close allies with them. Sure, there are people in both countries who think we should break away from each other, and try to stir crap up between us every once in a while, but nobody really takes them seriously.”
“Yeah,” Cowboy added, “you remember that supposed assassination plot against Comedia’s president a while back? Even that didn’t blow up as much as some people expected, even though there were accusations that Actonia might have been involved somehow.”
“Yarrrrr! Shiver me timbers!” Captain Yemmen contributed.
“So yeah…” Spice said, leveling an accusing glare at their informant, “What the hell are you talking about?”
“This goes beyond a mere alliance,” Cougar answered. “It isn’t enough that she has Comedia’s friendship. She won’t be satisfied until she has complete control over everything they have. And then it’s just a matter of time before she conquers the rest of the known world. You know how these things work.”
It was finally beginning to make sense. Everybody knew that a supervillain’s greatest motivation was the desire for more power.
“But wait,” Hikki said, “you zaid zat Ozzal was planneeng to let Comedia take ovar ze country… I happen to know zat surrendering eez not ze greatezt way to gain more powar...”
“I’m sure she’s planning to assert her own dominance once everything is in place. She can hand over Actonia as a pretense and then work her way back up to the top the same way she did here, violently if need be. It doesn’t matter to her what happens to the country, as long as whatever’s left is hers.”
“It sounds more like she’s trying to turn Actonia into a new empire, not destroy it,” Spice pointed out.
“It might sound that way… but consider the fact that she’s been gradually wiping out Lower Actonia and concentrating all of the country’s wealth in the capital city. Comedia is undeniably more prosperous than Actonia has ever been, so why not just cut your losses and annex your territory to theirs?”
“Then… that means…”
“Right.” Cougar looked grim. “If Ozzal has her way… there will be no Actonia.”
DUN DUN DUNNNNNNNNN
Chapter 12 author’s notes:
Recurring characters:
Cille Compton – Cille
Raef Compton- Maenos
Landon Blaken – Blah_canbespanish
Luna Monegossde – MoonGoddess17
Eric Ominae- OMNI-Enforcer
Hikki Follet – Kohikki
Spice – spiceweasel228
Gottel – lgott23
Captain Yemman – myname
Clarice Rowe – QueenoftheDorks
Samson Monroe – MasterSamson
Father Sadar – FurionTassadar
Heero Yuy – HeeroYuy135
Michelle Ozzal – Mike Lazzo
The old lookout at the Syndicate hideout – Norman Burg (Big O)
Riza – Riza Hawkeye (Fullmetal Alchemist)
New characters:
The proprietress of Ghost’s Book Shop – Ghost_of_a_Librarian
April – LirpaYamEnujYluj
Cowboy – CowboyCadenza
Real Coolman – Real_AirCooledMan
Roxie – anime_goddess05
Yurika Dojima – Witch Hunter Robin
Straight Cougar – s-CRY-ed
Hagi – Blood+
Saya – Blood+
The fate of Raef’s parents may be considered a reference to Winry’s parents in Fullmetal Alchemist.
New locations:
Harry’s – Witch Hunter Robin
Pop culture references:
The Scarlet Pimpernel by Baroness Emmuska Orczy – The book that Cille finds in Ghost’s Book Shop. Also, the early relationship between Landon and Cille is reminiscent of the courtship of Percy and Marguerite. (At least the actual Cille thinks so.)
Avril Lavigne – A “crappy chick-rock singer” whose name is remarkably similar to what Hikki calls April.
French language notes:
Avril – April
mon petit gâteau de sucre– my little sugar cake