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Unnumbered Episode #206: It Never Rains in Crystal Tokyo
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	Jennifer Sakachi opened her eyes at 07:30.  She saw a mix of blurry
shapes that wouldn't resolve themselves no matter how much she blinked. 
This was, of course, normal.  She reached over to the nightstand to grab her
eyeglasses.

	She was naturally an early riser, and was alert from the moment she 
awoke.  So when her hand grabbed nothing but empty air, she realized that 
the nightstand wasn't there.  By luck her hand swung down and hit the 
floor, and she felt the familiar coolness of the black frames.  In a 
practiced motion she put them on, and the scene before her became a lot 
clearer.  It was her living room.  And just as quickly as that, she 
remembered *why* she was in her living room.

	'Kami-sama, what the hell was I thinking last night?'  It had all
seemed to move at a paralyzing speed, up until the moment Eileen had walked
in on them.

	Then everything had gone to hell.

	She sprang up, just noticing that she was still wearing her clothes
from the previous night.  Almost running to the bedroom, she stopped when
she found the door was partly open.

	'Not like last night,' she thought.  Last night she was locked out,
wouldn't talk . . . but the thought of that brought tears to her eyes, and
she had no time for tears at the moment.  She had to know where Eileen was.

	"Eileen?"  No answer.  She looked under the covers and in the
closet, but her instincts were telling her that she'd already left.

	"Maxfield?"

	"Yes, Sakachi-san?" answered the AI.

	"Where's Eileen?"

	A pause.  "Sailor America is presently awaiting Her Majesty's
audience in the throne room."

	She blinked.  

	"Why?"

	"Presumably to have an audience with Her Majesty."

	"Bloody stupid AI . . . ."  Jen went to the window and drew back the 
drapes.

	"Drat."  It was raining.

	Crystal Tokyo wasn't a utopia, and most people of reasonable
intelligence knew this.  It rained, it snowed, it hailed; in short, all the
normal precipitation that was typical of Japan.  True, it wasn't quite like
it had been in the twentieth century, but humans had been mucking about with
Earth's climate for about five hundred years, and the resultant change made
Crystal Tokyo a bit cooler in summer and a bit cooler in winter as well. 
This was a welcome change; in the twenty-first century, summers in Japan had
been extremely punishing.

	In any case, it *did* rain in Crystal Tokyo.  But this was a
different kind of rain.  An unscheduled rain.  A rain that coincidentally
matched Jen's mood at the moment.

	The wind was rather slight and blowing towards the window, so
streaks of rain ran down the glass.  She'd checked; it was about twenty-
three degrees centigrade, and would probably get a bit warmer than that. 
Slightly atypical for summer, but still passable.

	"Forecast?" she asked the ceiling.  She knew there was no point
trying to go down to the throne room; even if Eileen was willing to talk to
her, that wasn't the place to air one's dirty laundry.  The word would be
all over the palace in a matter of minutes.

	Then again, it just might be already.  The Palace was a big place, 
but news traveled fast.  It had to, when there were some people who never 
left the building for months on end.  

	The AI broke in on her thoughts.

	"One hundred percent chance of precipitation from 08:00 to 22:30. 
Eight percent chance of severe thunderstorms, beginning approximately 15:00
and ending around 21:00.  High temperature twenty-four degrees centigrade. 
Humidity one hundred percent.  Dewpoint twenty-four degrees centigrade. 
Winds fourteen to twenty kilometers per hour, coming from the east and
swinging to the southeast approximately 15:00.  Insolation at eighty-two
percent normal."

	Jen scowled; she was no meteorologist, a simple "rain all day"
would have been good enough for her.  She took one more look at the window
and then headed for the bathroom to shower, hoping to wash away the memories
of the previous night.  Her strategy: ignore it, and hope Eileen returned to
her senses when she came back.

	In the shower, Jen went over her plans for the day.  Most of the
changes she'd recommended for Seiza were either complete or in the process
of implementation, and so her design work was basically finished.  Now
came the fun part: crew manifests.  Since she rated more battle experience
than quite a few commanders, she had quite a bit more leeway in choosing a
crew than she had before.  She was already determined to get her old
bridge crew back, if at all possible.  After all, they were supposed to 
have gotten a typical survey cruise, not a battle to defend Earth, and she 
felt that she owed them.  Jen knew Sammy would be easy to pry away from 
the Moon, and Vanessa would love a chance to leave Earth and be back in 
space.

	Jen finished lathering her breasts and began working on her legs,
her mind still racing.  Kim, she knew, would be a problem; those who ran
Earth Fleet Command, that cavernous command center under the Palace, said
that she was absolutely indispensable.  Jen knew that; that was precisely
why she wanted her on Seiza.  She would probably have to enlist the
assistance of a few of her senshi friends.  She truly hated politicking in
order to get what she wanted, but she had to admit that she had no choice. 
She counted on a big boost, anyway, from an unexpected quarter.

	Rinsing her legs, she reached for the shampoo and began to rub it
into her red hair, careful to get it all: thick shoulder-length hair
looked great, but was a pain to maintain.

	She didn't expect Small Lady to be her first officer again.  Her
duties as Princess would doubtless override any case Jen could make for
bringing Small Lady aboard, and so she had resigned herself to having to
find a new XO.  However, she was counting on getting the Princess's support
in whatever personnel choices she made.

	And then there was the matter of an AI.  In theory, which one she
got didn't matter, and she didn't really have a choice anyway.  AIs stayed
with particular ships, and that was that.  But she had every intention of
breaking that rule; Antares had a genuine personality, and despite the fact
that he was sometimes a genuine pain in the ass, she knew she could always
count on him for advice in difficult situations.

	Just like she could always count on Eileen.

	Unbidden, images from the night before played over and over in her
head.  How she'd been on the verge of breakdown, and had found comfort with
Kanomi.  How Eileen had walked in on the two as they shared a kiss . . . a
kiss the significance of which she was still unsure.  How she'd run after
the crying Eileen, who had gotten in her car and driven away much faster
than Jen could go, even as Sailor Orion.  How she'd gotten to their
apartment . . . .

	She blinked, and realized that she'd been lathering her hair for
longer than she could remember.  'I'm going to turn into a prune,' she
thought, hurriedly rinsing out the shampoo and stepping out of the shower.

	Once dressed in a standard uniform jumpsuit, she grabbed some toast
and tea.  Munching on the toast, she punched up some of the news headlines
and scrolled through them.

	More unrest in Africa, and once again the Southeast Asian Alliance
was going to try and step in.  They really had no choice; South Africa was
part of the SEAA, and Pretoria was probably howling over the danger they
were in.  Rightfully so; if the rest of the continent ever got their act
together, they would probably have little trouble rolling over South Africa.

	She read on a bit more.  Elections were being held in the Chinese
Confederation.  The incumbent Mao Tsing Liu was expected to win in a
landslide.  Emington, a small town in what was once the Yukon had been
awarded the 3036 Olympic Winter Games.  The European Union had made public
its plans to begin a colony on one of the moons of Saturn, quite possibly
Titan.  Crystal Tokyo had made no claims to the moon, but it was generally
accepted that they had free rein of the solar system.  But it seemed that
Alistair Cabot, the prime minister of the EU, had other ideas.

	And in an apartment in the Crystal Palace, a young woman had
terribly upset her closest friend for a reason she didn't even know herself. 
What a world.

***

	If you took the throne room of the czar's old palace in Moscow, and
the throne that was at Britain's House of Lords, and the old palace at
Versailles, and put them all together, you'd have something that bore a
striking resemblance to the throne room of Neo-Queen Serenity, provided you
only considered the placing of the throne itself.

	Everything else was different.

	The ceiling wasn't terribly high, but filigreed with gold, and where
there wasn't gold there was crystal glowing with a strange, warm, comforting
light that reflected off all the other crystal in the room.  The overall
effect was that there were no shadows in the throne room, a feat that
lighting experts born before 2197 would have found very hard to duplicate
without blinding everyone.

	The room was a crystal floor, covered by a polymer that prevented
slipping and felt like carpet to the touch.  It was perhaps twenty meters
long, and just as wide, with the throne occupying the front and center
position.  Although the area immediately surrounding it wasn't marked off in
any special way, those who were gathered knew the protocols, and gave
the throne a five meter berth.  After that, there were rows of people,
arranged according to the order in which they would speak with Serenity. 
Although the walls appeared solid crystal, they knew that behind them were
the galleries, filled with tourists or citizens eager to see the government
at work.

	Against the front wall stood the senshi.  Today there were about
half a dozen of them, which was normal.  Against the rather drab crystal
wall, their fuku were a welcome splash of color.

	Sailor Saturn was next to the throne, holding the Glaive in a
slightly defensive manner but otherwise showing no emotion.  The rest of the
senshi stood at more or less attention, though they were free to chat
amongst themselves.

	Sailor America was in no mood to talk.  She absently fingered the
white and blue hem of her red skirt, with just one thing on her mind.

	"Nervous?"

	America turned around to face Sailor Deneb.  Deneb was one of the
shortest senshi; she was a bit shorter than Sailor Moon had been when she
first came on the scene.  She looked like a pixy, an image reinforced by her
cheerful yellow skirt, pink bows, and impish face framed by short black
hair.  America had rarely run into her, but on those occasions she did, she
never regretted it; Deneb had a wonderful sense of humor.

	Deneb also happened to be one of the two senshi who had been born
and raised in Wales.  As such, she, along with Sailor Procyon, Sailor
America, and three others, were the only senshi who had *not* been born in
Japan.  They formed a sort of sorority . . . except that they didn't.  The
six gaijin senshi, as they were occasionally called, but never in public,
generally stayed apart, as if to avoid any possible suspicions that they
were somehow plotting against Serenity.  For those two to be standing next
to each other ordinarily would have made America start wondering about it.

	But, as previously noted, she had other things on her mind.

	"Um . . . no, why do you say that?" asked America.

	"Well, you're wringing your fuku like it's a dishrag!  Anything I
can help you with?" Forty years in Japan had taken away some of her Welsh
accent, but not all.

	"I've got a lot to think about right now," replied America shortly.

	"Yes," said Deneb.  "Your first audience?"

	"No, I've been here a few times, actually.  Usually I don't have a
petition to put forth, though."

	Deneb's eyes widened.  "You've got a petition?"

	"Yeah.  Well, it's more a proposal . . . ."  She took a handlink out
of her pocketspace and began punching buttons, grateful for something to
take her mind off of Jennifer.  "You see-"

	She never finished.  At the rear of the chamber, the heavy
gold-and-crystal double doors flew open.  It was no coincidence that the
path they swung was also clear of people; crowd control personnel had taken
care of that.  Sailor Mars then went forward ten strides and stopped.

	"All hail her grace, Her Serene Highness, Serenity, the Second of
her Name, born unto this Earth as Tsukino Usagi, the First of that Name,
Princess of the Moon Kingdom of the Silver Millennium, Eternal Sailor Senshi
of the Moon, Defender of Love and Justice, and Neo-Queen of the City of
Crystal Tokyo of the Crystal Millennium!"

	All eyes turned towards the door.  Mars stood stock still, seemingly
ignorant of what was going on behind her.  As for what was going on behind
her, it was simply the execution of protocol that had been in place for
hundreds of years.

	Neo-Queen Serenity walked in.  She wore the same simple white dress
she had worn for centuries.  She looked as calm and serene as ever.  Not
cold, not by any definition of the word.  She had a warm smile for all, took
the time to look children in the audience straight in the eye, making them
feel that she had gone to all this trouble, all this pomp and circumstance,
just to say hi to that child alone.  Behind her was Sailor Venus, who
constantly looked right and left.  There hadn't been an assassination
attempt inside the throne room in three hundred forty years, but the planet
senshi would never let down their guard.

	When Serenity came within two meters of Mars, the senshi of fire
started walking again.  The three formed a sort of mini-procession as they
walked the distance to the throne.  As they passed, the members of the
audience bowed or curtsied according to their gender, not rising until
Serenity had passed.  A rule change made in the late 2400s gave a blanket
procedure for everyone; before that, every millimeter a person bowed and
every microsecond of how long they stayed down was carefully prescribed
according to seniority and social standing.

	Once at the throne, Mars made a sharp turn to the right, making way
for Serenity, who climbed up the three steps and turned to face the
audience.  Sailor Venus kept walking until just before the throne, where she
sharply turned left and took up a position mirroring Mars's on the side of
the throne.

	Serenity emitted a small sigh that was only noticed by the two
planet senshi at her side, and sat.  Everyone else in the room immediately
relaxed to varying degrees.

	"What do we have today?" asked Serenity.  A flunky stepped up to the
queen and bowed.

	"The usual, Your Majesty.  Several petitions for acquittal, a zoning
dispute, a couple dozen budget requests, a personal interview, and the usual
host of grievances."

	"I see."  It was typical fare; she only held audiences once a week,
and left most of the day-to-day operations of the Palace to the appropriate
departments.  But this was her one day in the week that she herself ran the
country, the navy, and all the worlds that owed allegiance to her.  "Well,
let us begin."

	The flunky turned to another flunky, who dashed out of the room.  In
this, the most technologically advanced city in the world, messages left the
room by messenger.  He returned a moment later and handed a slip of paper to
the first one, who read: "Petition number 434-8999-B.  A request for a
zoning variance, by one Atsuko Mitsuragi."

	An average-looking woman stepped out from the crowd and curtsied.
"Your Majesty?"

	"You are Atsuko Mitsuragi?"

	"Yes, Serenity-sama."

	Serenity made a nearly imperceptible grimace.  "And I see," she
said, looking at the paper, "that you would like to build an . . .  internal
combustion engine, is it?"

	"Yes, Serenity-sama."

	"Could you please explain?"

	"Well, Your Majesty, an internal combustion engine is a relic.  It
hasn't been used to any great degree since the late twenty-second century,
and-"

	"I am familiar with such engines, believe me."  Sailors Mars and
Venus shared a smirk.  "Now, why do you need such a thing?"

	Atsuko colored.  "Well, it's sort of for my interest . . . I sort of
like antique automobiles." A couple of people in the crowd who knew their
history murmured at this.  Most of them remained silent, because they
weren't exactly sure what an ICE was supposed to be or what it was supposed
to do.

	"Automobiles?  An interesting occupation, to be sure.  What brought 
on this interest?"

	Atsuko began to relate her story of how she'd gotten into the field,
gradually growing more and more relaxed.  That, reflected America, was
Serenity's strength, in being able to put conversants totally at ease, to
make them feel that they, and not anyone else, totally occupied her time. 
As it went on, Atsuko began to forget her "Your Majesty's" and
"Serenity-sama's," which was of course exactly what Serenity was aiming for:
to speak to her as a human, and not as the most powerful woman on Earth.

	After they had passed a bit more than half an hour in this pursuit,
Serenity gave Atsuko permission, with a few sidebars about how Sailor Uranus
had liked cars in the olden days and how she might want to look her up. 
That taken care of, it was time for the next matter of business.

	The clerk read the order.  "Petition number 434-9000-A.  A request
for disbursement of funds from the Treasury and immediate application of
same for the commencement of construction of a visitor's center and gift
shop on the ground floor of the Crystal Palace."

	America left the line of senshi and bowed before the Queen, briefly 
congratulating the clerk on getting out the rather unwieldy title of the 
proposal that had been foisted upon it by the bean counters.

	"Your Majesty?"

	"Yes, Sailor America?"

	"Your Majesty, I have before you a proposal that I, along with my
department, and that of the treasury, have been working on for some time."
The words seemed hollow in her mouth; she'd been fired up for this project a
mere week ago.  That was, of course, before she had walked in on Jen and
Kanomi.  

	"As you know, we currently have a visitor's center on the ground
floor of the Palace.  However, it has come to my attention, and the
attention of others, that this center is woefully lacking.  At the moment,
it only serves to rent datapads out to visitors, which are nothing but
rather superfluous maps of the ground floor, pointing out items anyone
should be able to find by simply opening their eyes."

	She forced herself to relax, and with a bit of work even managed to
fake the brilliant Sailor America smile that made her such a hit in Japan
and back in North America.  "This certainly doesn't help our image.  As you
know, we place a great deal of emphasis on tourism revenue, and of course
the treasury places a *very* great deal of emphasis on it."

	This was quite true; Crystal Tokyo currency didn't exist as much as
a means of transferring goods in Japan as it did to provide something to
trade with other countries.  The details required a doctorate in economics
tounderstand, but it boiled down to this: Japan, as always, depended on
other nations for imports.  It couldn't grow enough food on its own, and
shipping it in from its colony worlds was still too expensive.

	And there was of course what was probably the most important reason
for the Crystal Tokyo yen: by changing its exchange rate at will, it gave
the Crystal Palace the power to bring any confederation to its economic
knees.

	"Therefore, I have before you a proposal for the expansion of the
visitor's center.  The numbers and expenditures are all well-explained in
the paper." She gulped, hoping her false confidence would pay off.  "Do you
have any questions, Your Majesty?"

	A couple minutes passed in silence as Serenity eyed the proposal. 
This wasn't the first she had heard of it, but in such a formal setting she
had to keep up with appearances.  And to be truthful, it was a rather
complex proposal.  There were all sorts of security and crowd-control issues
to be dealt with.  The departments had made studies of those problems,
however.

	"Well," said Serenity at length, "if there are no other
considerations of the issue that anyone feels needs to be brought up-"

	"Actually, Your Majesty, I believe I have a couple of questions that
I would like to ask Sailor America."

	"Sailor Mars?"  The queen raised her left eyebrow imperceptibly. 
"You have a question?"

	"Yes."  She bowed deferentially.  "With your leave."

	"Of course."

	"Thank you."  Mars stepped down from her position at Serenity's side
and walked up to America, stopping three meters away.  "Sailor America."

	"Yes?"

	"Just how many tourists enter Crystal Tokyo each year?  A liberal 
estimate, if you please?"

	"Er . . . between one and two million, if I remember the figures 
correctly."

	"And do you happen to have the breakdowns of just who comes from 
which confederations?"

	'What the hell is she driving at?' she thought.  "Um, no I don't, 
Sailor Mars."

	Mars nodded to herself.  "I do.  About three percent come from the
Southeast Asian Alliance.  Another eight percent come from Russia.  Twenty
percent from China; rather high, but understandable.  Just one point five
percent from the European Union, and around three percent from Africa,
mostly at our expense.  And another four percent from the Arab Union.

	"The remaining sixty point five percent come from the North American
Confederation."

	America took care not to flinch.  "Yes, Sailor Mars?"

	Mars turned to the throne.  "Your Majesty will remember that just
this last summer, the North American Confederation's diplomatic attempts to
enter a union with the United States of South America failed.  That fall,
the NAC began a full-scale assault on the Panamanian land bridge, and even
as we speak, American forces are conducting mop-up operations in Patagonia.

	"Your Majesty, I feel that at this time when the NAC is openly
carrying out a policy of expand and conquer, and when it clearly poses a
threat to the peace of the planet, the idea of actually inviting *more*
Americans to our shores is just short of complete folly."

	Sailor America had every right to be upset.  Mars had just
insinuated that America, her former home, her birthplace, was so dangerous
that its people shouldn't be allowed in Crystal Tokyo.  There was no
mistaking the personal slant Mars had put on the situation; she knew just as
well as anyone from where Sailor America had come.

	Therefore, it was rather surprising when Sailor America did nothing.

	Mars looked at her junior for a moment.  No anger, no resentment. 
Nothing.

	"I see," said America, more to herself than to Serenity.  "Your
Majesty," she added without raising her voice, "in light of Sailor Mars's
security concerns, I respectfully withdraw my request." There were a few
gasps, the loudest coming from the few people in the chamber who had helped
in making the proposal.  Over a year's worth of work, all to be given up
without a fight?  Near the edge of the room, an aide scurried for a phone,
hoping to contact Artemis and get him to help, but it was too late.

	"Are you sure of this?" Serenity asked.  Sailor Mars stepped back,
slightly chastened.  She'd meant to point out a simple flaw in the plan,
nothing more.  Heck, she didn't think it would be a half-bad idea, as long
as strict limitations on who got in were made.

	"Quite sure," came the murmur.

	"Very well," and Serenity couldn't keep the disappointment out of
her voice as she spoke, "you may go."

	"Your Majesty."  She bowed, pivoted on her left heel, and walked
out, ignoring the rising tone of conversation in the room.  She worked in
PR and knew just what an effect this would have.  Perhaps the most brash
and most outspoken of the junior senshi, giving up without a fight.  This
would not help her toy sales, to say the least.

	Toys were the last thing on her mind, however, as the heavy doors
swung open and she stepped outside the throne room.

***

	Several dozen floors below, Jen Sakachi popped open her dark green
umbrella and walked out from under the protection of the awning.  She was in
her shipboard uniform jumpsuit; her flamboyant sailor fuku was more than a
little out of place, and certainly not in keeping with her mood. Besides,
there really wasn't anything in the rules about having to wear her fuku when
she was away from the palace.

	For a few minutes she was alone with nature, strolling through the
few acres of park land that surrounded the Palace.  It was truly beautiful
in springtime when the cherry blossoms bloomed.  In fall it was equally
spectacular, with all the different colors that the leaves took on.  Now, in
summer, the lush, full leaves of the trees provided a verdant canopy which
was occasionally broken by a small clearing of grass.  At any other time she
would have enjoyed the beauty, even if rain streamed down her umbrella and
dripped from the leaves.

	But this wasn't any other time.

	A few more minutes' walking got her to a fence and a set of gates. 
She nodded to a security guard and went past; they recognized her as a
senshi, and people leaving the Palace grounds weren't watched too closely
anyway.  Those entering were an entirely different matter.

	A few more minutes and she was on one of the major thoroughfares of
Crystal Tokyo.  The road was four lanes here, but the interesting things
were on the sides.  Some of the most finest and most expensive shops in the
world were in the next kilometer or so of street.  But there weren't many
people walking along the sidewalks.  Most people were at work, or decided to
stay home rather than brave the rain.

	'More's the pity,' thought Jen darkly.  Misery loves company.  She 
stopped at one store window.  It was a toy store, and on display were 
quite a few Sailor America dolls.  They were still trying to sell them in 
Japan, but the real buyers were in North America.  The children, and not a 
few adults, couldn't get enough of her.  Eileen had told Jen that there 
were very tentative plans for her to accompany Serenity on a goodwill trip 
to America, although such a trip was several years down the road.

	She lost track of how long she stared at the dolls, and was
interrupted from her reverie by a tap on her shoulder.  Not turning around,
she spoke.  "Yes?"

	"She's beautiful, isn't she?"

	"Actually, she looks a hell of a lot better than-"  She turned
around, and froze when she saw her visitor.

	"Hi, Jen-chan."

	"Kanomi-chan . . . ."

	The blonde smiled under her umbrella.  "How are you?"

	Jen turned away and continued to regard the dolls.  "I don't think
you need to ask that question."

	A silence, broken only by the occasional whoosh of a car driving by
on the wet pavement, and the patter of raindrops.  "Look, about last night-"

	"There's nothing to talk about," said Jen coldly.  "What's done is
done."

	Kanomi blinked, and the smile faded a bit from her face.  "Then it's
true."

	"What's true?"

	"You and Pearcy-san . . . you're no longer together?"

	"WHERE DID YOU . . . where did you hear something like that?" she
finished, hoping it didn't come off as lame as she thought.

	'That's pretty lame,' thought Kanomi.  "It was just a rumor."

	"From who?  I need names!" she cried, adding a bit of an edge in her
voice.

	"I don't know.  I read it on one of the gossip nets."

	Jen counted to ten in Japanese, then English, then Mandarin Chinese,
then French, then the Welsh she was still learning.  "So everyone thinks
we're at each other's throats?"

	"No.  But we all know something's wrong."

	"And what might that be?"

	"Jen-chan, don't make me say it."

	Jen began to walk away.  Fast.  Kanomi had to work a bit to keep up.
After two blocks, Jen finally stopped at the entrance to another one of the
ubiquitous parks.  "Jen-chan, there's no point in trying to run away from
me, so-"

	"And just what the hell do you know?  Why are you even talking to 
me?  Haven't you ruined my life enough?"

	"Jen-chan, listen to me.  I've made some mistakes, but I certainly
haven't 'ruined your life.'" She opened her mouth as if to add something,
and then thought better of it.  She began again.  "Listen, that kiss . . . 
it was just a kiss."

	"Oh, really?  And I suppose you just go around kissing every girl
you meet?"

	"You're making this harder, Jen!"

	"And I think I have a right to!"  From far away, a rumble of thunder
came.  The AI would seem to be dead on.

	Kanomi sighed.  "I can see you're not being very rational today. 
I'm sorry." She began to walk away and then stopped five meters away, ready
to cross the street.  The few people on the sidewalks began to disappear
into shops and restaurants and cars, seeking shelter from the storm that
seemed to be building.  "If you want to talk about anything, you know where
to reach me.  The Embassy, remember that.  Bye." She turned her back to Jen,
looked both ways, and hurried across the street.

	Jen simply stood, letting her hair get blown about by the winds
blowing from the southwest.  A few strands extended beyond the confines of
the umbrella, and when they came back down, they were damp.

***

	Sailor America looked wearily at her secretary.  "You have a
visitor.  Lord Artemis."

	"I told you not to use that name," came the complaint from the
floor.

	"Oh, my apologies, My Lord."  The secretary bowed and withdrew.  A
white cat sauntered into the room and leapt up on America's desk.  He got
right to the point.

	"Sailor America, just what the hell was with that performance this
morning?"

	"What?"

	"I know exactly what happened, America.  If I'd gotten there just a
few seconds earlier . . . but why?  You just folded up there!  I mean,
Sailor Mars had a point, but it wasn't irrefutable!  You've been working
just as hard on this as everyone else, and you just dropped the ball!"

	"I know.  Sorry."  She looked down at her folded arms.

	"Is it you and Orion?"

	America drew taut at that.  "You know?"

	"Kami preserve us.  Of course I know, the whole Palace knows!  What
kind of press secretary are you if you don't even keep up with the current
rumors?"

	"I've been a bit distracted lately," she murmured, not looking up.

	"So I've noticed."

	America sighed lifelessly and stood, walking to her window and
looking outside.  The western sky was growing darker and darker, with
frequent flashes of lightning.  Even in the city itself the rain was falling
more heavily, and lightning was more frequent.

	"Squall line," said Artemis softly.  America turned around in
surprise.  "I'm a bit of a weather buff.  The AIs say this'll be a pretty
big storm.  Haven't had one like this since . . . oh, the late 2700s, I
suppose."

	"And this is all my fault?  I guess this is all a large-scale
version of what's going on with Jen and me?  Well listen up, *my lord*.  I'm
perfectly capable of handling my personal business just like that:
personally!  I don't need you, or anyone else, coming around and acting as
my moral compass, because I think I can do a just fine job of that myself,
you hear me?"

	She screamed the last bit at the cat, but didn't realize it until
she heard the echoes of her shouts reverberating from the walls.  She stood
for a moment, her chest heaving, face flushed, fists clenched at her sides.

	Artemis simply sat on her desk and looked at the senshi.  "I was
simply commenting on the weather.  As you say, it's personal." He hopped
down from the desk and began to pad over to the door.  At the threshold, he
paused.  "Just trying to offer some advice.  You're a lucky person.  Once
upon a time, I had a very strong love.  I threw it away.  I got it back. 
Not everyone gets a second chance, though, and you're certainly not helping
your odds by sitting up here and moping about.

	"Good day."  The cat walked out.

	America stood by the window for a moment, her form outlined against
the now-black clouds by the more and more frequent lightning.  "Hansu? 
Could you close the door, please?"

***

	Jen squished down the hallway, her shoes leaving wet footprints on
the carpet.  She imagined that in their centuries of use they had seen worse
than rainwater, though.  Why, during the Black Moon war alone the place had
probably seen hell.

	She came to the correct door and paused.  Was Eileen already there?
If so, what to do?

	She opened the door.  Most of the lights were off; she could only
see by the faint glow that came from under the bedroom door.

	"Lights, please."  The room lights came up to normal, and she
gratefully plopped her umbrella on the floor.  Taking off her boots and
soaking-wet socks, she pondered what to do.  Take a shower, or make it up to
Eileen?

	She made her decision.  Stripping off her fleet uniform top to leave
the regulation white turtleneck, she strode down the hall to the door.  No
locked door would stop her; she'd break it down if she had to.  And dammit,
Eileen *would* listen to her.

	"Eileen?  It's me, Jen.  We need to talk."

	Silence.

	"Eileen, we can't go on like this, you know.  Now let me in,
please."

	Silence.

	"Eileen, I will stand out here all night, I will break down the door
if necessary, but I will *not* spend another night alone.  Now let's talk,
PLEASE!"

	Silence.

	"This isn't like you, Eileen.  You mean too much to me for me to
just give up, and I know you feel the same way.  Now, if . . . if the love
we have means anything, open the door, and we'll get things settled."

	Silence.

	"Eileen . . . fine I guess I'll have to start things off.  I ran
into Kanomi this afterno-"

	The door flew open.

	"You were with Kanomi?"

	Jen opened her mouth in shock.  "Kami-sama, Eileen . . . what
happened?  You're a mess!" It looked like she'd been to hell and back in the
coach compartment.

	"You.  Were.  With.  Kanomi."

	Jen realized her error.  "No, you see, you didn't let me finish my-"

	"Get out."  Eileen was crying, but her mouth was a thin line.

	"Eileen, I-"

	"Get out.  Please."

	Jen took a step forward, eyes shining.

	"Don't come any closer.  Just leave."  Jen didn't move.  "Leave.   I
. . . I don't want to see you anymore." It came out as a whisper.

	To Jen, it was the most excruciating pain she had ever felt.  Forget
a dagger in the heart, this felt far worse.  All her battles against evil
had never hurt like this.  "Eileen . . . ."

	"Get out.  Get out get out GET OUT GET OUT!  OUT!  OUT!"  She was
screaming at the top of her lungs, and felt sure that the entire Palace
could hear her, even though someone at the back of her mind was telling her
that the room was fully soundproofed.  The same voice that was telling her
that she was making the biggest mistake of her life.

	The same voice she was ignoring.

	Jen simply stood, weathering the storm.  Then, at length, she spoke.
"I'm sorry, Eileen." With that, she turned and walked out, ignoring her
umbrella.  She walked out of the door, carefully closing it behind her, and
for just a second Eileen could hear her footsteps dwindling.

	Then she cried.

***

	"Good evening, miss.  Where can I take you?"

	"The American embassy.  Hurry."

	"Certainly."