Settling Accounts
by Frank Barr
Sometimes I don't understand humans at all. Being a youma
that has to feed on life energy to survive, that's
understandable. Since I can't just collect it when I want to, or
else the sailor senshi would nail my hide to the wall. (If they
took trophies from their battles. Or if I wouldn't burst into
flame and crumble into dust when I die.) Instead, I have to
contract my services out for life force. Since I look like a
cross between a cat and a woman, (a very well stacked woman at
that) my services are billed as "nights of passion" by my p.r.
agent. I really think of them as "nights of raunchy uninhibited
sex" but that's why I hired a p.r. agent.
It was the usual kind of contract; the client wanted to
pretend to be having a quiet drink when this gorgeous fem fatal
enters the place and starts to prowl. The game is that I should
refuse the advances of a few virile young studs and then...
*gasp* leave the club on the arm of my ever so suave and debonair
client. For a lot of men, image is an important build up to the
actual act. I was always a bit more direct in my urges, but hey,
he's the client and he's paying for it with his life. Well, not
his whole life, just a bit of it.
Anyway, I come into the place dressed to kill in this short,
clingy little blue silk number and nothing else. I've changed my
appearance using a glamour so that I have a creamy pale skin and
mountains of red hair rather than my white fur and silky mane.
I've got my attraction pheromone damped down until I spot my
client; I don't want to start the game too early. I sample the
air and discern quite a mix of scents. This place is known as
much for it's exclusivity as it is for its reputation as a pick-
up joint. I pick up my client's odor (and that is the correct
word) coming from over by the bar and get ready to start playing
the game when I pause.
There is an odd scent in the air. An old one I remember
from over a thousand years ago (I never forget a scent), and a
second time from a lot more recently when I got stiffed on a bill
(I never forget a debt). Magnesite never said who his client was
when he came to me looking for information a couple of years ago
but he signed an I.O.U. that said client was supposed cover. I
knew who was employing him when I let Maggie have the
information, he fairly stunk up the place with his client's
scent. There is a bit of antagonism between me and this
character; my left butt cheek still tingles when I think about
the time he threw a rose into it. I had him in my debt and I was
going to royally enjoy making him pay up too. The trouble is,
the Black Moon Family invaded and both Magnesite and the rose
hurler left Crystal Tokyo sticking me with the paper. It didn't
look like I'd ever collect on my debt, until now.
I spot him in a back corner table by himself. He's really
not that hard to pick out. Black trenchcoat, black tuxedo, a
grey fedora sitting on the table in front of him. I wonder where
the mask is he used to sport when he went by that ridiculous name
"Trenchcoat-Mask" I'll bet that name took him five minutes and a
mirror to figure out. "Trenchcoat...mask.... Hey! Trenchcoat-
mask!" His features are clean and handsome, in a sort of solid
manly fashion. He's sitting there drinking shots of whiskey, one
after another. There is a small but growing pyramid of upturned
shot-glasses that he's building as he drinks. Though he is one
of the better looking men in the place, his actions plainly
signal that he wants to be left alone. A the waitress brings
over a whole tray of shots which she sets down in front of him.
He's not going anywhere soon, so I decide to see to my
client before I go to collect on my debt. My client is a mousy
little accountant who works at the palace keeping track of
municipal accounts. I've seen him there when I prowl the
corridors in my cat form looking to overhear any juicy gossip. A
rather forgettable fellow with a Walter Mitty complex. Normally
I wouldn't waste my time with him but still, he is a customer and
one with connections in the palace. I go straight up to him and
sit down next to him. "Hi, it's me Margrave. I've had something
come up and I can't follow through on our agreement. You let me
off the hook tonight, and I'll give you a twofer." Being an
accountant he gets it in writing and happily scurries out the
door. It'll be a pain to reschedule all this but I don't want
anything to interfere with my enjoyment of what's to come.
With that out of the way, I make my way through the crowd to
my quarry. The pyramid is a few levels higher now and he shows
no sign of slowing down. With that much alcohol in him he should
be three sheets to the wind even if his constitution is like
Azurite's. The air conditioning sends a wave of his scent over
me and it's bitter with repulsion pheromone. When I'm still a
good ten meters away he notices I'm looking at him and though his
expression doesn't change his eyes gives me a "no-nonsense,
bother-me-and-die, I'm-not-kidding" look. I'm sensitive to a
person's aura and right now his is all "spikey". A human would
get the message unconsciously and move off, I notice that though
the club is crowded there's quite a bit of space around his
table. Too bad for him I'm a youma.
He's still watching me as I head for his table and when I
stop next to him he downs a shot and says, "I drink alone. Go
away."
"You and I have a matter of business to discuss," I say sitting
opposite him in the booth.
He looks at me again and then does something curious, he looks
slightly to one side and flicks his eyes on and off me. He
suddenly stops and his eyes get a little bigger. "Great," he
mutters darkly, "what do you want, youma?" Huh? He can see past
my glamour without a spell? I keep my consternation to myself
and continue, "Yes, there's a little matter of an I.O.U. that
Magnesite signed on your behalf a couple of years ago."
"I left him charge numbers to submit any expenses to. All
charges were paid out of those bank accounts, the receipts
verified and the matter closed."
"This isn't about money, It's about energy."
"What do you mean?"
"His debt to me wasn't in money it was in life force. I made
him sign one of my standard life-energy in exchange for services
contracts for some information about... well, lets just call it
data hard to find in official records."
"I suppose, creature, that you have the paper to back this up?"
"Of course, I'm a business woman, not a thief."
"And I'm legally bound to honor it?"
"Magnesite was your agent when he pledged your, ahem,
resources. That makes you mine."
He reaches into his pocket, pulls out a satellite phone and
punches a number into it. "Irons here. Get Magnesite on the
line and call me back. Don't worry about what time it is in
Morocco, it's not like he sleeps anyway."
"Irons?" I ask.
He puts the phone aside and says, "the hat I wear as a
captain of industry."
"So what has got you so worked up," I ask indicating the
pyramid of glasses.
"Join me in a drink, creature," he says picking a glass up off
the tray, "In a toast to another triumph of your species. Minako
is scheduled to deliver a baby girl to your fearless leader in
March."
I pick up a glass and clink it to his, "To the triumph of my
species," I say. Being the last true youma, I'll drink to that.
He snorts and downs the shot in a single gulp. I take a sip
of the whiskey an then down the shot, it's the good stuff.
Humph, I didn't know that Minako was having another child with
Calcite. They had gotten together for the duration of the war
and had a boy immediately afterwards but I didn't hear about this
one. Phooey, I've been hanging around Mercury too much of late
and have gotten myself out of the loop. I consider myself to be
the source for all the really good gossip and I can't believe
that this one slipped by me. What does this little bambino make?
Forty-two now? His interest in Minako is something I've never
heard about before now though. I say, "I'm the mistress of all
rumors in the palace, I didn't know you and Venus were ever
involved."
"It was before your time cat." He says his words a little
slurred, "Hell, it was before everybody's time." He downs
another shot and says, "everybody 'cept me..."
His phone rings and he picks it up turning away slightly.
Though my glamour doesn't show it, I perk up my ears and listen
intently to his side of the conversation.
"Magnesite? Ferrite, here. I'm sitting here in Crystal Tokyo
and someone waiving an I.O.U. under my nose. Did you sign a
little contract with a certain cat-woman obligating me to her?
You did? And when were you planning on telling me about this?
Uh, huh... And this document was like the one I had with you?
Fine, I'll deal with it...but only to keep Naru from volunteering
to clear it out for you. Speaking of her, how is she?... Better
huh?... I don't know. How am I supposed to know what Serenity
can and can't do with it? You'll just have to ask her yourself.
No, I will not put in a good word for you, I'm persona non-grata
as it is. Goodbye." He clicks the phone off and sticks it back
in his pocket. "Damn youma."
With his attitude, I'm going to really let him have it
rough. "I'd never figured you to be a racist, Ferrite."
He looks at me and shakes his head, "I've been all races in
one lifetime or another, cat. This goes a lot deeper than that.
Your kind stole everything of value from me. The only woman I've
ever loved is tied up with an ex-servant of Beryl. The same one,
mind you, who had her chasing her tail in England. He would have
killed her without a second thought if it would have served his
purposes then. Hell, she doesn't even remember what we had and
how she..." He picks up another shot and mutters, "All I'm left
with is allegiance to a king who abdicated his leadership to his
world and lets a billion people die. I can't even drink enough
to get properly drunk." He downs a shot and holds out his hand
in front of him. It's steady as a rock. "And to top it all
off," he continues "I find out I've got to pay off some vampire
hooker."
Oh, he's gonna pay for that one. I swap my glamour so that
when he glances back at me he sees Minako. "Run away with me,
Ferrite" I say reaching out to touch his hand, "it's always been
you I love." Fire one! Since I depend on reading human emotions
for my living I consider myself a scholar of being able to know
what a person's feeling. Ferrite's too old and has too much self
control to let anything show on his face but his eyes... It's
almost an academic final to pick out the play of emotions that
flit across his eyes, love, loss, jealousy and rage. I think the
last one was meant for me but I'll bet quite a bit of that is
directed at our Sailor Venus.
"Oh, good one cat," he concedes, his face still not
betraying any emotion, "that just reaches right down deep and
plain rips my heart out." I can't help but smile at that; it's
good to have someone appreciate your artistry. He shakes my hand
off and picks up his hat as if to leave, but I recognize it as
misdirection: an old magician's trick. His left hand has gone to
those bottomless pockets of his and pulls something out. As he
does so he mumbles a few words that are almost drowned out by the
noise in the club but my acute hearing picks out, "pen" and
"turn". I can't read his lips though because his hat is before
his face. His body language is all wrong for an attack so I sit
there and wonder what he's up to. Suddenly he puts his hat back
down and... It's Calcite! "Margrave," Ferrite says in a flawless
imitation of my erstwhile partner, "it was a mistake to waste my
time with Minako. Only you can truly understand; I want to come
back to you." He grasps my hand firmly the same way Calcite did,
strong, firm, like you could always depend on him. He's even got
the serious, sincere, "my word is my bond", tone down right.
Being a youma, I tell myself I don't have emotions; that nothing
like this could hurt me. I'm wrong.
"Now," Ferrite says in his normal voice, "how long do you
wish to continue this little nuclear exchange?" I smile
sardonically at him and say, "I think it's time for a truce."
"Hey!" A voice shouts and we look up reflexively. There's a
smarmy, oily looking man there that I recognize as one of the
tabloid journalists which trail the senshi always trying to catch
them in an embarrassing situation. I see a lens package for vid,
still, and magicam clipped to the side of his head. By the
abyss, I was so wrapped up with Ferrite that I let this paparazi
sneak up on me. "Is there any truth to the rumor, Venus, that
you are carrying Endymion's love child? How about the talk of a
death duel between you two? Does it signal a permanent split?"
In the palace at crystal Tokyo, queen Serenity has placed a
small box in a hallway that anyone can drop a suggestion into.
What a novel I concept, I thought, that is an idea worthy of
Beryl. Monitor who puts something in the box and then later
eliminate the malcontent quietly. When I expressed my admiration
to Mercury, she then explained to me that was not the intent at
all. A person would place an anonymous suggestion for the good
of the institution without fear of retribution. It confused me
but, during many of my forays into the palace I've placed many a
slip of paper into it. She still hasn't used one of my
suggestions, though. I've yet to see her impale one of these
bottom feeders on a stake or even to publicly flog one.
The loathsome <YOUMASQUID> doesn't hang around to get our
answers though. He just wanted to capture "Minako's" and
"Calcite's" expressions. We were both so stunned by his
questions that he's halfway to the door before either of us
react. I think it was that "love child" question which threw me
for a loop. (I'll have to remember that rumor and further
propagate it; through deniable channels, of course.) "Curse it,"
I spit, "impersonating a senshi is against the law big time.
That could be trouble." "I've got it," Ferrite says calmly. He
reaches across his body into the opposite pocket of his
trenchcoat and pulls out a meter long copper pole. It has a
rubber handle on one end and a large glass ball on the other. In
the dim light and flashing strobes from the dance floor, nobody
notices as he holds it high over his head. The device emits a
humming sound as it gathers power. The glass ball emits a blue
flash of light followed by a small pop. I feel a strange
sensation wash over me as the club's music system along with the
lights die and everything goes dark. A few patrons cry out in
alarm at the sudden change.
The lights blink on again after a moment and the first thing
I notice is that all the clocks are blinking "12:00". "What did
you do?" I ask looking over at Ferrite. Then I see that he's
changed too. The style of his trenchcoat is different, it has a
more military cut with epaulets and underneath it he wears a navy
blue uniform that looks like Jadite's. There's several bulges
around his waist, it looks like he's packing a pistol and... is
that a sword? "A little thing Magitech, one of the Irons
corporation subsidiaries, was working on," he says, "An EM/MP
generator."
An electromagnetic/ magic pulse generator? Hey, I may not
look it, but since I've openly started hanging around Mercury,
I've become quite the rocket scientist. A device like that
destroys electronics, wipes the memory of recording devices, and
disrupts magics. Briefly, I thought of playing dumb but Ferrite
is one of the few people who caught on how smart I really am from
the moment we first met. Instead of explaining what EM/MP means
he continues, "we didn't finish development before the end of the
war and it's not powerful enough to kill quality electronics or
major spells. Still, it'll reset electrical equipment and
interfere with minor magics for a while." I see what he's
talking about, a bunch of the patrons must have been using
disguise magic because a lot of men suddenly have a lot less hair
and a lot of women are a lot less busty.
Even our Mr. Ghoen has gone from buff media star to pudgy
photo-hack. I can't help myself but I have to point and laugh.
Then I notice that my arm is covered with white fur and my nails
are long and curved. My glamour is gone! I try and reestablish
it but I can't, the magic just fizzles. Now the people are
looking at us and someone shouts, "Hey, it's Margrave!" Almost
every eye swivels in our direction as the humans look at the cat-
woman. One thing I value is my privacy, I don't like other
people butting in on my business. Sure, I appreciate media
attention. The free advertising is good for commerce, but when I
want to be alone I want to be alone.
The pheromones come at me in a wave, from the women it's a
primal hatred for a rival is poaching on their territory, from
the men it's lust to one degree or another. A few of the
smellier ones start to approach when Ferrite stands up and they
clear back a bit. "Come on," he commands holding out his hand,
"we're leaving." I haven't been ordered like that by any other
man than Calcite and I think about refusing, but the air
conditioning blows a fresh wave of scent and I don't like making
a scene when it doesn't serve my purposes.
When I take his arm he raises an eyebrow but doesn't object
to my familiarity. Hey, if I'm going to be caught in public like
this with my glamour down I might as well milk it for all I can.
I try to make it look like I have a direct line to the inner
circle of Crystal Tokyo and all. There's a new look on the faces
of the people around us, envy, both the men and the women.
Making way for a couple of Crystal Tokyo's immortals the people
clear back as we walk out of the club. Outside, the crowd of
wannabe hip people who can't get into the exclusive club openly
gape at us in amazement. Even without my glamour, the autovalet
recognizes my voice fetches my car. It's a 1962 white Cadillac
Eldorado convertible with light pink leather interior that I had
especially imported and restored. I haven't had it converted
over to crystal power like all the other automobiles in the city;
it still burns gasoline. The energy inefficiency and low gas
milage on this land cruising hunk of iron is obscene. What can I
say? It's me.
Ferrite opens the passenger side door for me like a
gentleman and holds his hand out for the key. Curious as to what
he has in mind, I hand them over and slide in. Sliding behind
the wheel, he puts it in gear and we smoothly pull away from the
curb. "So where are we going?" I ask when we pull out onto the
highway. "To settle old accounts," is all he says as he pulls
out onto the highway. We drive on in silence headed toward the
airport. After going through several checkpoints and a couple of
retina scans, we wind up in a private portion of the tarmac. A
small, private hyper jet warms up outside a hangar. Other than
the pilot who I can see moving around in the cockpit, there's
nobody else around.
"Okay, Time to settle accounts," he says matter of factly
killing the engine and turning to face me. "Your information was
useful and though Magnesite made a promise without consulting me,
still, he was my agent at the time. I make good on all my
promises."
When Magnesite came to me then he asked some questions about
things the police wouldn't know. Coincidentally, a lot of
property damage and some mysterious fires occurred about that
time. I never overheard anything that told me what was going on,
although Mercury did leave a military maintenance manual on
plasma guns on her desk one day. (Okay, in her desk, but she
forgot to lock the drawer.) Rei still goes ape whenever she has
time to think about that unclosed case; I'll bet she'd be
interested in anything I could tell her.
"So what was that all about?" I ask.
"Just another debt of mine, nothing you or Rei would be
interested in," he answers. Hm, he's got youma thinking down,
I'll give him that.
"So how do you want to do this?" I ask, "slow or fast?"
"Fast, I have promises to keep and many miles to go before I
sleep."
"Then you might as well be comfortable, let's get in the back
seat." He raises that eyebrow of his again, but does as I say.
When we're seated comfortably in the huge seat which is as big as
I couch, I have him lay back. I lean over him and look down into
his eyes. Most of my clients flinch away at this point, but he
looks back unafraid. I've never tasted the life force of an
immortal, though given Ferrite's situation, he barely counts. I
lay my hands upon his shoulders and start to make the connection,
then he does the unexpected; he crushes me to him and kisses me.
I'm so surprised that the connection that I usually keep a tight
reign on suddenly slams open and energy comes flooding across.
His life force is an overwhelming blast of different flavors and
textures. So many themes each having a distinct character yet
all bound together by a lack... a searching for something... or
someone. That constant loneliness, that ache forms a bittersweet
taste only forgotten only for a short time as he is reborn.
Normally I have to extract it forcibly from my clients, but he is
in control of the process and thrusts his life energy upon me.
Then, when I've had my fill, he disengages the link as he breaks
the kiss and holds me at arms length. I'm dizzy, no drunk with
the power that he paid, no gave to me.
"Why did you do that?" I ask, genuinely puzzled.
"My life is my own," he says huskily, "I say how it is spent
or on what. Maybe you just remind me of someone..."
Sometimes I get a little affected by the life energy I
extract from people. In a lot of ways its much more intimate
than sex. In this case I really must be feeling it because I
say, "Um, look... I've got the penthouse suite reserved tonight
at the Crystal Towers hotel. It would be a shame to let it go to
waste."
"Why, what is this?" he asks coquettishly, "offering me a
freebie? How un youma like."
"It's not that way at all!" I snarl at him, "you overpaid
and I can't very well give it back." I cross my arms and slump
in the seat and pout, "I hate owing anybody anything, especially
you."
"Me?" he asks struggling to a sitting position, "I'm the
closest thing you've got to a mirror image in this universe,
cat."
"Huh?" What do you mean by that?"
"We're both on the outside looking in. We here in this
crystal palace," he says gesturing at the towers of Crystal
Tokyo, "but we're not at home here. The ones we love are with
someone else. Despite our best efforts either by fate or by
curse, we're both alone."
"Hah, that's where we're different. I'm a youma. I don't
fall in love."
At that he pauses and starts to chuckle. Laughing and
shaking his head he starts to rummage around in those damn
pockets of his.
"Well, I don't." I say vehemently. "I'm the last true
youma. Emotions are for you humans."
At last finding what he's looking for, Ferrite pulls out a
pocket database from his trenchcoat. It's another one of those
techno-toys of his from outside: a portable library that holds
practically every scrap of written information. He pops it open
and touches a few keys. "You seem to have overlooked a very
important document in your education. Here," he says handing the
computer to me, "read what a certain, Dr. Pyrite has to say. He
did a very important series of papers on extradimensional travel.
Read the parts about, 'Dimensional continuity and Enforced
Universe conformity', you'll find them very interesting, oh
catwoman from Dimension-X."
He hops out of the car and leans on the door a little
unsteadily for a moment. "Take care, Margrave." he says using my
name for the first time tonight, "We're more like each other than
you'd think." He turns his back on me and walks off toward a the
jet. Sometimes I don't understand humans at all, but I'm
starting to and that scares me.