Silver Millennium Soldier
-7- Rough Time Earning Merit
by
Mike Macdonald
(Age: 27)
copyright 03-01-2006
Age Rating: 18 to 127
The latest status report showed nothing but outstanding progress through the slow deaths of the mindless sheep littering New Gaea’s surface. The job was taking far less manpower than he’d anticipated, and his predicted harvest was barely one third of what his operatives were actually pulling in every week. Even if the figures weren’t enough, the praise from his superiors should have easily elevated his level of self-worth in the grand scheme of things.
Yet, as he dismissed the last of his servants from the meeting in the dark palace’s grand hall, Jedite’s heart soured and his head ached. Every muscle in his body felt the urge to tense and strain until tearing themselves free of their skeletal base in a full body explosion. His teeth couldn’t sharpen themselves enough. His efforts had not been so flawless as Malachite had declared before returning to his own duties at the Queen’s side.
A larger and stronger security force was in order. He’d already doubled their ranks and given them the order to patrol the harvest zones more vigilantly than before. He'd already made the importance of their jobs violently clear to them, particularly to the team captain. Still, even this could not change the fact that he was short one report.
Neflite chuckled heartily. “It seems our young, ambitious Jedite will receive that long awaited promotion sooner than we thought! Your people make staggering progress!”
“Yes, quite,” Jedite said with a false smile, trying his best to mask his irritation. “It won’t be long before Her Majesty can initiate the second stage of the Imperium Project."
The royal label left his tongue with a tremor of contempt; Queen Beryl had already spoken briefly to him of his shortcoming. Nine operations total, eight successfully concluded or enjoying a continuous bounty, and but one drawn to an unexpectedly disastrous close. She received the news as though he'd sabotaged it deliberately. As if she were a glowing pre-teen, and he the miscreant who'd ruined her birthday party. A tiny scratch in a nigh-flawless pearl and she had an absolute fit about it. His ears still strained from the echo of her bloody cries.
The smug-faced Corporal’s very voice was enough to aggravate his already throbbing migraine.
“Well, that’s nice to hear,” she said flatly, “considering I’ve received word that one of your ‘best of the best’ had her head handed to her today.”
Jedite took a moment to hold his composure, and ran a tense hand through his golden hair with a sigh. “The Sylvan Guardian intervened. And some prancing dandy with fantastic aim. She’d be dead if it weren’t for him.”
The Lieutenant-General’s eyes flickered with alarm, and a bit of amusement. “Sailor Moon? So she’s active again after all.”
He strolled out of the hall to the queen’s chamber with an almost melodramatic level of bravado as though every decision he made was deserving of attention and admiration.
“Perhaps it was she who caused such ruckus in Europe years ago,” he said. “I must speak on this with Her Majesty. This does not bode well for our future operations.”
Neflite often spoke moreso to himself than the others. With all the respect he reserved for the man, Jedite despised his need for a personal narrative. Had he a traveling minstrel group at his beck he would surely be accompanied by his own fanfare whenever he entered a room.
“Do leave out the part about the male escort foiling his plans,” Zoycite called after him with a malicious giggle. “I’d find that quite embarrassing, myself.”
Jedite’s cold glare nearly knocked Zoycite onto her backside in response to this. A moment of silence passed between the two feuding officers as they considered drawing steel and ending their rivalry then and there; the only person who could intervene--if he even cared to, and most likely did not--was a hundred meters beyond earshot.
“It must be grand,” Jedite said, “having the freedom to fearlessly sling barbed remarks at one’s superiors. I wasn’t aware that keeping the Marshall’s bed warm every night had such benefits.” Then, with a sharp gesture of his hand, he commanded, “Begone. This is a place for those of us who gain ranks through military experience, not bedside.”
The Corporal’s initial silence was indeed the first sign of offense Jedite had seen her convey to anyone. She didn’t even smirk as she vanished in the pretentious dust devil of flower petals she was known to use to announce her departure.
“Think farther ahead, Jedite,” she croaked, “before showing such contempt. My ascension’s guaranteed. Yours is not.”
Jedite hissed an obscenity to the empty room, hoping she could still hear.
************************
The Babbit family television filled the Babbit family homestead with the latest news bulletin, its screen a fresco in tribute to wanton commercial destruction. The jewelry store was swarmed with city workers armed with brooms for glass sweeping, and policeman for hauling overly curious children away from the scene. A woman’s disembodied voice prattled on about the details of the afternoon’s chaos.
“…strange events happening around Cherry Hill lately, and pedestrians are left shaken after a brutal fight broke out between what witnesses say were a devil, a talking cat, and a girl called Sailor Moon. Here we can see the property damage Sailor Moon caused during the struggle, several thousand dollars’ worth to the interior alone. Local business owners are hoping that this is a one-time occurrence…”
Serena threw her apple at the television, hoping to hurt the reporter’s voice through some sort of voodoo magic. It bounced off the glass with a dull thunk and rolled behind the TV stand.
“Aw, that is weak, man!” she wailed. “Nobody knows a hero when they see one anymore! Sailor V gets treated like Jesus overseas!”
The cat sat at her feet on the floor in front of the couch, licking her paws and cursing allergy season.
“Why don’t we turn this rubbish off and get something to eat?” Luna said to the fuming teen. “I’m starving.”
******************************
"Are you sure that's safe?"
A hundred feet overhead the winged steed flipped and spiraled in the air with a cheerful whinny, the little boy on its back squealing and giggling at the sights around him; far above, a kingdom of a theme park, once the size of the whole world, now no bigger than a hobby shop diorama; below, a bright blue sky stretched on forever, spotted here and there with little white islands. The castle at the park's center was so small he could almost reach up and take it in his hands.
The horse flipped upright and dove suddenly as the child giggled out of control. Everything passed beneath them at the speed of sound: the giant castle, the water balloon catapults, the crystal lake that hosted a twenty-man bumper boat battle as mer-creatures looked on from the rocks, the three-story carousel which housed an entire world of mythological creatures, each one with a life of its own, some who could sing, breathe fire, even talk to their riders. The horse whinnied again and slowed its flight as it glided down, down, down to the ground for a perfect landing, and trotted with a huff to the waiting embrace of the fantasy kingdom's proprietor; the ravishing Princess of Dreamland, blue and white gown the size of a bedspread, long, wavy hair the color and consistency of cotton candy. Her gentle eyes spoke to the horse in a language all their own and calmed its restless spirit. Next to the Dream Princess stood the boy's mother with her eyes bulging out of her head, gasping for breath as she ran to her son's side.
The boy was having the time of his life.
"Oh, yes," the Princess finally answered, as if the shaken mother's question had only just registered. "Yes, it's perfectly safe. Pegasus has a failsafe mechanism to prevent his rider from falling. A bit of gravity magic, you could say."
The Princess laughed at this, one hand daintily covering her mouth.
"Would you like to go again, my dear?" she said, patting the boy's face.
"Yeah!" he exclaimed. "That was the coolest thing ever!"
"Very well," the Princess said, then as she leaned next to Pegasus's ear, "Ride the wind, Pegasus. Show this little angel once more how angels were meant to see the world."
The horse whinnied again and reared on its hind legs with its wings spread, and galloped into the sky, the child on his back squealing all the while as the Princess sang to them far below
"Come away, O human child,
To the waters and the wild,
With a faerie hand-in-hand…"
"I've never seen him so elated," the mother said with a smile. "I don't know how you do it, but if it really is safe for him to ride that thing like that, I don't care."
The Princess of Dreamland felt a familiar presence and glanced toward the castle's grand doors, where a tall, dark-haired woman in a long brown coat was watching her with a knowing look in her eyes; after a moment, she slipped inside the building. Ah, His Excellency's chief officer.
"For the world's more full o' weepin' than you can understand…" she sang absent-mindedly as she slipped away, leaving the boy's mother to watch the winged steed dance in the sky.
The Princess took one step into the castle's office and felt a powerful set of hands grab her collar. The door slammed shut, and the Princess found herself pinned to the wall and staring into an equally unforgiving set of sky-blue eyes.
"Captain Tethys!" she said, her doll-like smile never flinching in spite of the circumstances. "So good of you to take time out of your busy schedule to visit me."
"Just what is it you're doing here, Galatea?" Tethys said.
"Amusing the tykes," the Princess replied.
It must not have been the answer the captain was looking for. The Princess received a sharp blow upside the head that rattled her eyes around in their sockets like marbles. Her head tilted to one side, limp like a doll's, and still her sweet-mannered expression remained.
"I seem to remember this abomination was intended as a front," Tethys said. "Not a hobby."
The Princess's eyes finally corrected themselves, now glass and lifeless despite the pleasant grin on her lips, and leered back at the captain.
"You needn't be so cross with me," she said. "Do let go."
Tethys released the mannequin, whose head rolled back into its proper upright position. She straightened her collar and cleared her throat, and her eyes once again showed some semblance of humanity.
"Have you acquired one drop of Gaean life force the entire time you've been stationed here?" Tethys said. "His Excellency holds you in such high regards as Her Majesty's most elite spy, yet you insist on dilly-dallying about your little fairy land as if you were on leave."
"A spider's web," the Princess said, "must be carefully spun with all the precision of a master engineer before it can even begin to feed. It takes time, and precision, and, most of all, patience."
She gave the captain a most condescending look which seemed to boil her blood, even though neither agent had any to speak of. The mannequin knew of her over-eagerness to please the Colonel, and had chided her for it many times before.
The Princess went on. "His Excellency, the Colonel, has more faith in me than in any of the others because, though my webs take time to spin, I reap a wealthy crop in the end."
Clearing her throat again, the Princess opened the office door and curtseyed, cuing the captain's departure. Tethys had to fight the urge to twist the creature's head clean off.
"So, if it is all the same to you, I have flies to fatten up. And I'm sure you have important matters to attend to, yourself. If I have any need for your people's services, I shall summon you."
"Just don't screw up," Tethys snapped. "He sees fit to punish me for your people's shortcomings."
"Strange," said the Princess, "I was under the impression that it was your duty to protect the late Agent Morga from the opposition. Do respond a little more quickly when my time comes, won't you?"
The captain's skin flickered as she furrowed her brow, and she departed without another word, rubbing her throat in remembrance. The feeling of the director's iron grip still haunted her skin around the trachea. He had been furious with her organization of the security team, but forgiving enough not to use the power of his mind to punish her.
"Give His Excellency my love!" the mannequin sang after her.
Help Us Stop Plagiarism -
Nearly all works at PnP are original. However a few people choose to plagiarize.
To check, choose a phrase from the work, then either drag and drop to the search box or copy and paste.
click on search and works at Google will be shown which match. Just to be sure, please do this before
you recommend or rate the work highly...
Nice interlude here. The usual greatness of word choice and flow apply, and the attention to detail is meticulous, which is no handicap. The half concerning Serena made me laugh with phrases such as "tribute to wanton commercial destruction" and Serena's comparison of her treatment as a hero and that of Sailor V. You are doing a great job with this book, but you may have figured that out by now. You are earning every point of praise you get from me!
The length is a bit irksome, but I realize you are building up for the next part, so no points are deducted. Good job!
Welcome !
