Voice from the Past
Sir Charles Timewell stepped into the gracious apartment from within the deepest shadow in the darkened hallway. Once moving from ‘outside of time’ into linear time would have disoriented him, even made him nauseous, but the seemingly endless centuries since he had become the Knight Protector of Pluto had turned the fantastic into the mundane. He glanced in the large mirror across the wide entry hall, automatically checking his appearance. He met his own dark green eyes with a wry grin. Some habits, like a very healthy personal vanity, were impossible to break. The Powers knew he had tried, on occasion, to curb his Narcissism, but it was difficult when his devastatingly beautiful wife routinely called him ‘scrumptious.’ ‘Oh well,’ he thought, ‘there are worse faults.’ He brushed imaginary lint from the shoulder of his cream-colored button-down shirt and inspected his navy pant’s cuffs for a sufficiently crisp crease. His momentary amusement faded as his mission for the evening returned to the forefront of his thoughts.
The Timelord, an old-fashioned briefcase in hand, walked toward the light at the end of the hall. His soft-soled shoes made no sound on the tongue-and-groove hardwood floor. He paused just within the clinging gloom to survey his objective. Cassandra Whitmore Furuhata sat sideways on deep cushioned couch underneath the picture window that took up most of the outer wall. The pale cloth of the upholstery caught the rosy hued light reflecting from the spires of Crystal Tokyo. The lady’s eyes were on the embroidery in her hands, not the magnificent sunset. As he watched, she reached up behind her to switch on the electric lamp. While most of the developed world had eagerly embraced mystic lightballs, Cassandra had refused to have them in her home. She gave no explanation; she simply declared that she would have honest electric lights or sit in the dark. Charles suspected that her dislike of the bobbing balls of glowing magic was rooted in her time as the Queen of the Dark Kingdom, but that was one topic that no one, not even a multi-millennium old knight would dare discuss with her.
Cassandra stitched on, seemingly oblivious to her visitor. That was well enough; it gave Charles a chance to get a good, thorough look at his long-time friend. An afghan draped over her from chest to hidden feet, masking her body. Her dark brown hair was longer than it had once been. She had pulled it back in a loose braid that trailed almost to the floor; had she been standing, and in uniform, the ends would have brushed the bottom hem of her skirt. There were no lines on her face; she seemed to be in her late twenties when in reality she was nearly seven hundred years old. While five hundred of those years had been spent in magical stasis during the Great Ice Age that had preceded the formation of Crystal Tokyo, two hundred years of subjective time had left no mark on her body. That was the gift/curse that Serenity’s use of the Silver Crystal during the final hours of the Silver Millennium had bestowed upon the Sailor Scouts and a few select others. Charles had often wondered if Serenity had truly known the full extent of the effects of her last wish. The Sailor Scouts and Tuxedo Mask had aged normally until their late twenties; the Knight Protectors, the Earth Guardians, and Lady Molly had stopped aging in their mid-thirties. There were a few scattered others around the globe that had shown similar lack of aging. They had eventually been traced back to the final battle on the Moon.
Charles suppressed a sigh. He and Susan had chosen immortality primarily because it was the only way they could complete their sworn duties. It was also a decision that could be reversed. Sailor Pluto and Knight Charon could simply re-immerse their lives into the stream of time and again be mortal. No one, not even Pluto, knew when, if ever the others would again join the time stream.
Charles dragged his wandering thoughts back to the present. He was dawdling and he knew it. For once in his long life, he had no idea how to proceed. Cassandra was sitting there, not twenty feet from him and he could not bring himself to approach her for he could find nothing to say. ‘This is silly. I cannot just stand here all bloody night. I’ll just…’ His thoughts froze as he felt the unmistakable prick of a blade between his shoulders. It could be only one person, so he risked a quick glance over his shoulder. Upon meeting a set of sparkling brown eyes, he turned back to the front only to discover that the wrong end of a sleek handgun was pointed at him. “Well,” he sighed, “Is Andrew going to skewer me or are you going to shoot me Cassandra?”
“Do you have a preference, m’lord? Or we could just flip a coin.” Calm gray eyes surveyed him from behind the rock-steady pistol. Although he knew very well that she was joking, there was no hint of teasing or laughter in the Athenian woman’s expression. She had become almost as good as Susan at hiding her true thoughts. Almost two centuries of practice makes perfect.
“Actually, I’d prefer a glass of sherry,” Sir Charles drawled.
“I guess we could handle that.” Andrew lowered his sword and stepped around his unexpected guest. The one time arcade guy moved with the innate grace of a swordsman. He had an air of self-confidence that melded well with his professional compassion and competence. A moustache a few shades darker than his blonde hair masked the line of his mouth, adding a few years to a face that would otherwise be boyishly youthful. “To what do we owe this honor? It’s been almost seven months since you last were in the city.” Andrew cocked a questioning eyebrow as he opened the wet bar.
The Timelord finally stepped into the den. He took the overstuffed chair Cassandra indicated with a wave of her hand. He set the brief case on the floor by his feet. The blued metal of the handgun glinted coldly in her lap. “New toy, Cassie?”
“Chris gave it to me.” She stretched across the end table to hand the weapon to Charles. He frowned at the stiffness of her movement. He wondered briefly if she was ill. “It’s the newest gadget from Greg’s Armament Board,” she continued. “It fires high velocity darts instead of bullets. Deadly, easy to clean and load and it carries fifty shots.” Charles whistled appreciatively.
“I just
want to know why Serenity even authorized an Armament Board.” Andrew set a tray of drinks on the coffee
table. “Sere is the world’s biggest
pacifist. Why develop weapons when no
one in their right mind would attack
Charles met Cassandra’s eyes and saw mingled dread and sorrow swirling in their gray depths. She knew why Serenity was determined to quietly enhance her country’s fighting power. The Dark Moon War had not yet happened. Only nine people knew what was coming: Sailors Mercury, Mars, Venus, Jupiter, Athena, and Pluto, Serenity, Endymion, and Knight Charon. The other members of the Outer Guard had never been told the full story of why young Rini was sent into the past the first time. Christopher only knew bits and pieces, but the spymaster must suspect something if he was giving his sister weapons. Charles could only imagine how hard it was to keep the truth from the others, but the Queen had ordered silence. He and Pluto were old hands at keeping secrets. Besides, they could not risk changing the timeline.
“Serenity’s reasons are her own,” Cassandra said quietly.
“Yeah, and I suppose the Inner Guard has their reasons for not leaving Crystal Tokyo for any reason since Princess Rini’s birth. They have practically hovered around Sere since Rini’s last birthday.” Andrew handed Charles a snifter of sherry.
Cassandra turned speculative eyes on her husband. “I had thought that you had been too busy at the University to notice such things.”
“I do occasionally get away from Bunsen burner fumes, my love. In fact, I can be quite observant.” Andrew took his wife’s extended hands and helped her turn to sit properly on the couch. The afghan tumbled to the floor. Sir Charles’ eyes widened as he stared at the very pregnant woman. The Timelord had been almost positive that Rini was the only child born to any of the Scouts prior to the Dark Moon War. While it was true that he and Pluto knew only the big sweeping events leading to War, he would have thought that the birth of the heir to Athena would have been one of those things, especially now.
“Earth to Charles. Come in Charles,” Cassandra waved a hand in front of the stunned man’s face and he blinked. “Don’t tell me you didn’t know, Charlie-boy. We’ve done very well keeping knowledge of my pregnancy from the general public, but I didn’t think we’d fooled even you.”
Charles shrugged, still disturbed by the revelation for some reason. “I’ve spending too much time outside of time.” He shook it off. “Why have you been keeping quiet?”
Andrew grimaced as he handed Cassandra her iced tea. “Are you kidding? After the media circus that plagued Serenity’s pregnancy? I don’t want Cassie exposed to that kind of stress.”
Cassandra
shook her head. “I could have handled
it, Andy. I only agreed to play along
with your little ‘tired of public life’ bit because Serenity practically
ordered me too. Do you have any idea how
difficult is to get anything done in the diplomatic world when you’ve had to
spend the last few months sequestered?”
She sipped her drink. “Besides,
it’s going to be really fun explaining that little charade next week in
“I wish you would reconsider,” Andrew trailed a finger along her cheek.
She caught his hand and squeezed it gently. “It’s my job, lover. This trip was planned long before we knew about the baby. The appropriations for the Joint US/Crystal Japan Mars Colony are coming up before Congress along with half a dozen other bills that are of vital interest to Her Majesty’s government. I need to be there. Besides, I won’t be alone. Tom and Greg are coming, along with more security people than you shake a stick at.”
Andrew sighed. “I know. I just don’t like you being so far away. I could still reschedule…”
“No. You have things to do here. But we can discuss this later. You never did tell us what brought you here, Sir Charles.”
It was Charles’ turn to sigh deeply. “I have come to fulfill the last request of an old comrade.” Andrew and Cassandra exchanged confused glances. Charles simply opened the brief case and pulled out a heavy leather bound tome. He handed it carefully to Cassandra.
She frowned at down at the cracked and brittle cover. “What is this?”
“I found it a few centuries after the Fall. The rather weak preservation spells wound in its pages have held up better than I thought they would. Of course, it has spent the time since I received it in the Castle Beyond the Gates. You should probably take it to the Great Archives as soon as you’ve finished it so that it can be preserved.” Charles stared down into his sherry.
Cassandra
transferred her frown to him. “That was
not an answer,
“Just read the front piece,” the Timelord said before knocking back his drink with a practice flick of his wrist.
Cassandra opened the book gingerly, expecting it to disintegrate any moment. The runes on the first page were Athenian and it took a moment for her to decipher them. She paled as the meaning became clear.
“Cassie? Cassie, what’s wrong?” Andrew demanded. “Damn it Charles, what have you done? She has had a hard enough pregnancy without you dropping some damned, fool…”
“Andrew!” Cassandra cut him off sharply and grabbed his near hand in painfully tight grip. “That’s enough. Charles doesn’t mean me any harm and you know it.” The Princess of Athena looked at her old friend with wide, stunned eyes. “Why did you wait so long to bring this to me?”
Charles lowered his head. “To be truthful, I forgot about it. When you have lived long enough, you learn to push some things away, to forget or you go mad.”
Cassandra whispered, “It must be nice to have the option to forget.” Startled by the comment, Charles looked up at Cassandra. She could not forget anything, the magics of the Planet of Music and Memory made that impossible for her. The Timelord shivered at the thought of never being able to forget: pain, sorrow, slights, hurtful words things that faded away for most people were vividly hers for all time. She could and did forgive much, but she could never forget.
“Would anyone care to explain the significance of this book to me? Or shall we play twenty questions?” Andrew said, breaking the heavy silence.
Cassandra released his hand to carefully cradle the tome. She read, “In the Shadows: The Tale of Saraphenia de Thena, Chancellor of the Athenian Survivors and one-time fiancé of Piram d’Athenae Jr., son of Daphne III.”
Andrew took a deep breath. “Saraphenia, I remember her vaguely. Of course, my memory of the Silver Millennium is much less accurate than yours. She was your friend, your second in command, wasn’t she, Cass?” Understanding flared to life in his brown eyes. “That’s who you wanted to name our first daughter after: Sara.”
Cassandra nodded before she continued. Her voice was steady, but tears brimmed in her eyes. “I know not if those who truly need to know will ever read this. I know that Sailor Pluto and Lord Charon survived the Fall. Perhaps they will ensure that this will fall into the correct hands. I know not, but I can hope.
Death holds much for me, but I swore that I would do nothing to hasten my end. But my end draws near, so I find that this must be written.
Much knowledge has been lost already. The younger ones can never carry a candle to the many that worked so hard in the University. Much more is bound to be lost as well. I pray that this will survive the ages, though. Perhaps it shall fall into the hands of those who truly understand the severity of what is about to be told.
Piram, if you are watching me, know that I shall be joining you soon. Will you be waiting in our paradise, just as you promised me?
~Saraphenia
de Thena
Post-Fall Year 70; Silver Millennium Year 574”
The Princess of Athena closed the ancient book carefully before tears fell on the time-ravaged pages. “Thank you Charles. I will treasure this.”
Charles rose to his feet, empty briefcase in hand. “It is my pleasure, Most Gracious One. I will leave you to your reading.” As he retreated to the nearest shadow, Cassandra was already on her knees by the coffee table. Saraphenia’s book was on the tabletop, opened carefully to first full page. Cassandra read the rune-formed words aloud to her husband. Andrew cradled his wife against him and closed his eyes as he learned about his wife’s former home world through the words of a long dead and deeply missed friend.
