Kjatai Naltoiv

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they were wild to have them.   </div> <div> Their Psych profiles panned out when the team of lab psychologists investigated, and their bank account was acceptably endowed when the lawyers and financiers ran a check.  Magnus Labs was agreeable. The Naltoivs would be the first family ever to have a Designed child.  </div> <div> They were really very loose on the requirements.  What they wanted, pure and simple, was one perfect child, female.  Her name was to be Kjatai.  Magnus Labs could deal with that.  </div> <div> The Naltoivs were very close to the team of scientists creating their daughter.  They had sponsored several members of the genetic-ops team, in fact. </div> <bR> <div> Pchanka Ionovich frowned down at the waiting egg, the container for the miracle they were about to produce.  "Mendelsson, they left the terms pretty loose, didn't they?"</div> <div> Brushing overlong brown hair out of his eyes, Reuel Mendelsson nodded.  "They just want perfection.  It pretty much is left to us what `perfection' entails."</div> <div> The dark-haired scientist grinned.  "Well, with the team we have… why don't we divide up attributes, and each give the girl something?  It'll be like we're fairy godmothers or something."</div> <div> Reuel shrugged into his lab coat.  "It's as good a way as any, I suppose.  And it gives us something to name the project after.  What about Sleeping Beauty?"  </div> <div> She shuddered.  "No, that's too ill-omened.  I'd rather something like Cinderella, thank you."</div> <bR> <div> Pchanka Ionovich made the girl's eyes slightly tilted, her eyebrows long and thin and elegant.  She gave her long dark lashes that would curl enchantingly, and a skin type that would not lend itself to wrinkles.  She also granted the girl intensely blue eyes.  Pchanka thought the effect on the simulator was rather striking, and Kjatai's eyesight was better-than-average anyway.  </div> <div> Her unseen gifts were grace and a strong genetic propensity for courage.  </div> <div> Reuel Mendelsson gave Kjatai a rapid metabolism, stunning curves, and a complexion that would be forever clear.  He made her skin a creamy fairness that would never burn, perhaps in remembrance of the elves she resembled.  In token of his love for those fantasy creatures, he manipulated the genes until the Designed girl would have ears that were ever-so-slightly pointed.  </div> <div> His unseen gift was a propensity for great intelligence and charm.  Kjatai's mind would have all the tools that it required to excel, and her personality type would tend toward those better relating to people. </div> <div> Richard Thomas granted her softly wavy, shining hair that would never frizz or split ends.  It was a very dark red, but a clear, pure color.  The highlights were gold and lighter red, with never a trace of brown.  He made sure that it would grow rapidly.  </div> <div> He also designed the rest of Kjatai's face, the straight Grecian nose, the proud line of her pointed chin, and the exotic lines of her slanting cheekbones.  He spent a lot of time on the mouth, working toward bow lips that would always display a high color.  </div> <div> Richard's unseen gifts were grace and energy-at least, he gave her perfect balance, and he carefully plotted out the hormones of her later years.   Others gave her perfect health, perfect recall, aptitudes and attitudes, a body that was perfectly suited to <I>anything</I>.  They gave Kjatai every possible advantage.  </div> <div> But there was one scientist who detested this perfection.  Hectora-Kate Ashton had certainly not been gifted like this, and she found it offensive that this unknown girl was being so supplied.  She was not fond of the Naltoivs, either…especially Anatolia.  </div> <div> So she very cleverly inserted a computer-pattern virus into the child's brain, triggered at physical maturity.  It would shut down every vital system.  The perfect child could not be stopped, but she could be…neutralized.  </div> <div> Aya McMillan hadn't figured out what she could give the child, and the zygote had already begun to develop into an embryo.  She was the technology expert of the group; it was her job to implant the traditional electronic port and all the other hardware, as well as adapting the brain and the body to the machinery.  </div> <div> She was horrified to discover the waiting worm program.  It was already hard set into the child's mental patterns.  Aya couldn't erase it; the brain has no wiping function that will not leave it useless.  But she could divert it…  </div> <div> The shutdown of functions was unstoppable.  Yet, if she tweaked <I>here</I> and coded <I>there</I> on the bionics software, she could set it to be triggered only when the girl was jacked into a computer.  With a little more modification, she could set Kjatai's personality and brain function-and, in essence, her soul-to be saved onto the computer.  That would work until they could find a way to restore body function.  The girl would survive….as long as the patch adapted as fast as the worm program.  </div> <div> She dared tell no one about this.  Aya didn't know which of her team members could be trusted.  If she told the would-be murderer, then there would still be a chance for him or her to rectify their error and alter Aya's programming.  </div> <div> So Aya McMillan stayed silent.  If the rest of the team thought that she displayed an alarmingly obsessive interest in the project, they kept it to themselves.  </div> <bR> <div> Kjatai had always felt apart from the rest of the world.  When she was with her peers, there was such a strong sense of dislocation that it was almost a physical force.  </div> <div> The separation wasn't out of dislike.  Kjatai got on well with people, and people rather liked her.  No, it was an awe, a feeling that everyone was looking up to her.  There was an air of expectation, as if she were going to do something strange and wonderful at any moment. </div> <div> There was also a queer, helpless envy that she had seen directed at her.  She liked it even less than the breathless air.  What did she have that made everyone respond so basically?</div> <div> So, rebuffed in the world of people, Kjatai turned to computers.  </div> <div> She had always had an affinity for them.  It was like something drumming in her head, a fundamental digitalism that ran through her personality.  If Kjatai was on, she was on, full speed, and she was unstoppable and incorrigible.  When she was off, there was nothing in-system or out that could move her.  </div> <bR> <div> Kjatai slithered out of the shower, her wet hair draped in a dripping curtain over her forearms.  The water-dark fringe of it brushed the tiled floor as she made her way hastily to the dryer, robe flapping.  </div> <div> "Miss Kjatai," a synthesized voice drawled, "are you still refusing to cut your hair?"</div> <div> "Go download a Trojan Horse, Justin," she said cheerfully as she bent over the device.  Her hair, wet, felt like strands of lead adhered to her scalp.  The girl shivered as a gust from the air vent chilled the bionic metal synapse-port in her neck.  "And easy on the air."</div> <div> A wall rippled and solidified around the `face' image pushing out of it.  "You really are set on growing it out, aren't you, KJ?"</div> <div> "You'd better believe it.  Where's my adapter?"  With a deft touch, Kjatai took her now-dry hair and began to comb it out, wincing as snarls caught in the comb's teeth.  </div> <div> The holo face rolled its white-plaster eyes.  "In the kitchen, where you left it.  You want me to bring it to you?"</div> <div> She pursed her lips, tugging at a particularly bothersome snag in the wavy cascade.  "No, thank you.  I'll uplink and all after breakfast."  </div> <div> "An excellent plan, Miss Kjatai," Justin said dryly.  "May I remind you that it's waffles for breakfast this morning?  I'd hurry if I were you, especially if you want to eat with your parents."</div> <div> Kjatai sighed and began to twist the long strands of dark red around her head, stabbing thick hairpins through the heavy coils until they stayed firmly in place.  She thought about braiding the long, trailing ends, but decided to leave them loose when she heard her mother's voice on the stairs.  </div> <div> Hastily, she belted her dressing gown on, and headed for the kitchen.  Her parents looked up mildly when they heard her thunder down the risers, thin golden waffles already on their plates.  </div> <div> "Glad you made it, KJ," Nennius remarked mildly.  He was meticulously dripping pecan syrup into every waffle square.  The focused expression on his face went well with his tailored business suit, but looked absurd in so homey a setting as the Naltoiv's kitchen.  </div> <div> Anatolia gave her daughter a nod and a wave, grinning ruefully around a mouthful of food.  </div> <div> She enjoyed breakfast with her parents.  It was an ordered time that she got to spend in their presence.  As important as they were to their respective companies, Nennius and Anatolia could only spend a limited amount of time at home.  </div> <div> After her mother's coattails flickered out the door, Kjatai sat back in her chair with a sigh, her adapter cradled in her hands.   The little device-a wireless translator between the compressed language of computers and the complex impulses of the brain-was made to wrap around the back of her neck and grip her shoulders.  Its sleek, sinuous design was as lovely as any piece of jewelry.  </div> <div> She fingered the leads as she turned the machine on, waiting for it to warm up, literally as well as figuratively.  The `port' of bionic metal near the base of her skull was very sensitive, and it was networked to her brain and spine.  Cold leads were misery.  </div> <div> Every person's port design was unique.  They were works of art, smooth metal blended seamlessly with human skin, growing with their users.  Kjatai could see the pattern of hers in the reverse-design in the custom-made leads.  The port was a dragon, coiled and watchful.  It had an expression of baleful contemplation on its circuit-etched features.  </div> <div> The design was unusual, but Kjatai rather liked having a dragon `guarding' her back.  Most people's port-designs were abstract.  </div> <div> The leads were finally warm.  Delicately, Kjatai positioned their reverse-image upright, and felt with tentative fingers until she touched the port.  With a click, the plug settled into place.  </div> <div> She shut her eyes and waited as a wash of dizziness and cold swept over her.  That was Start-Up…  The cold blackness lingered for a heartbeat… two… three…then warmth returned to her, and she opened her eyes on the cyberworld.  </div> <div> In her HomeSet, the lighting was the cool paleness of an overcast day, reflecting off the ripples of silky cocoon that wound around her island of firm footing.  It was all still, calm colors…smoky purple, deep indigo, and a silvery twilight blue.  </div> <div> The world chimed.  As Kjatai stood, glowering, Justin's sculptured face peered down into the ether.  </div> <div> "Company, Miss Kjatai," he said.  Here, he had color, and his brown eyes danced beneath his dipping brows.  "Screen name Sidhe Mor.  She wants to speak to you.  Permission?"</div> <div> Kjatai tilted her head.  "Unusual," she commented.  "I'm curious, Justin.  Authorize."  While the command went through, the girl decided, she might as well read her messages.  Concentrating on making the sound in realtime, she hummed a bar of an ancient pop tune.  "I'll send you all my love/ every day in a letter,/ sealed with a kiss."  </div> <div> A strand of the `cocoon' extended, and spun itself into an oval.  The space within mirrored the HomeSet for a second, then swirled into a view of her `mailbox'.  Several message-points hung, bright as stars, against their velvet-dark background.  The name and title of the message arched around the icons in a corona of letters.  Satisfied, Kjatai took a seat.</div> <div> For a few of the messages, she simply hummed `Return to sender', annoyed.  As good as the security was on most cybermail, spammers still managed to get through.  On one or two she vocalized, "Take a letter, Maria," and send a reply.  Kjatai enjoyed the Oldies, and the musical phrases were something unique to her account.  Besides, she smiled every time she used the program.  </div> <div> An incoming message made the strands of her cocoon flash white for an instant.  The soft strains of a flute sonata announced the event as well, continuing until she opened it.  The girl looked wistfully at the last message in her account, something entitled "Beware the Jabberwock" from one Hecate's Ash, but she turned her head toward the opposite side of her Set, and veiled her mirror with a stroke of her hand.  </div> <div> > Briarthorn?  Can I talk to you face to face, please?  Thanks.  ~Sidhe Mor~</div> <div> She typed her reply on the laser-keyboard that sprang out of her Set at her unvoiced wish.  <I>>If you like.  Loading.  ~KJBriarthorn~</I></div> <div> Gracefully, Kjatai levered herself to her feet.  "Dress holo 127, please, Justin.  Then activate audiovisuals."  A webskin shimmered around her, in her favorite dark teal.  Light then hardened into the silk folds of the gown she'd designed, a dappled dress in a deep turquoise.  Ready for anything, she swirled the `mirror' counterclockwise, and blew lightly on its surface.    </div> <div> "Kjatai?" the mirror said, in a weary contralto.  The woman looking out from the mirror, very Celtic indeed, bored a hole in KJ's image with the intensity of her dark stare.  </div> <div> "Do I know you?" the girl replied sharply.  She didn't give out her real name, ever.  </div> <div> "No," the woman-Sidhe Mor-said, expressionless.  "But I know you.  I'm your faerie godmother, child, or one of them.  You're in great danger."</div> <div> Kjatai colored.  "Look, I must not be who you're thinking of…I don't have any enemies.  And if this is an ad pitch, I'm going to report you."</div> <div> Sidhe Mor shook her head, frantically.  Kjatai noticed lines of worry and fatigue at the corner of those dark eyes.  Odd…almost no one kept wrinkles nowadays.  Certainly not in a web presence.  "Look, Kjatai, I helped design you."</div> <div> "Right."</div> <div> "I put in your port."  The woman leaned forward, her gaze intense.  "It's a dragon, right?"  When Kjatai just stared, she continued, "You were the first of the Designed, `Briarthorn'.  There's human error, however, in your mental circuitry."</div> <div> Kjatai clenched her fists.  How dare this woman claim that she had anything to do with her own birth?  How <I>dare</I> she suggest that Kjatai was mentally deficient?  </div> <div> "Wait!" the woman cried as Kjatai's hand headed for the shutoff sequence.  "There's a virus waiting for you.  You're full grown, or nearly.  The worm could strike through the patch, or be augmented for elsewhere, any day now.  Kjatai, be careful.  Don't do anything stupid.  No-" but the girl had already shut the messenger off.  </div> <div> Bemused, bewildered, and a little angry, Kjatai reopened her mail.  <I>What a weirdo.  I don't know how she got my name, or my port information, but…whoa.  </I>She selected the last mail eagerly.  </div> <div> Ah, Lewis Carroll…  </div> <bR> <div> But the message had only a short clip.  It read: "One two, one two, and through and through, the vorpal sword goes snicker-snack.  I'll leave you dead, and with your head, I'll come galumphing back.  Canst thou slay the Jabberwock?""</div> <div> That's not right…</div> <div> There was a sudden agony in her neck, as if it was being burned and chilled and stabbed and crushed all at once.  </div> <div> "Run from my arms, my beamish boy."</div> <div> Then, a violent mental <I>snap</I> that threw her consciousness into spinning darkness…and then, utter loss of sensation.  </div> <div> "O frabjous day, caloo, callay.  Chortle, chortle."  </div> <bR> <div> A soft luminescence penetrated Kjatai's sense-deprived horror, and lines spun in her head as her essence stretched thinner and thinner, looking for a container.  <I>She, the Moon, Selene…</I> And moonlight was what the radiance now resembled, moonlight in the shape of a lady.  It reached out and touched her, and she plunged back into darkness yet again.  Darkness where something held her under the waters of sleep.  </div> <div> <I>Can't breathe!</I></div> <bR> <div> She woke, screaming, to the knowledge that something was very wrong.  From the face of the woman bending over her, she had just perpetuated the Apocalypse.  </div> <div> "Traitor!  Oath-breaker!" the glowing lady hissed, but not at Kjatai.  "He <I>swore</I> to me that you would sleep for always."  Her face assumed a tender expression, one so deeply beatific that Kjatai felt immediately uneasy.  "Never mind, my love," she said softly.  "You shall remain the beloved of Selene.  Hush now."  A cool hand stroked Kjatai's brow.  </div> <div> Something nagged her about her body, but KJ was too wrought up to notice.  "Get away from me!" she cried, her voice lower by several octaves.  "Leave me alone!  <I>Don't touch me!"</I>  </div> <div> The goddess-for that she surely was-looked hurt.  "Endymion, you love me.  I have borne your children!  Speak sense, man."</div> <div> "My name is Kjatai," the girl shrieked, terrified. "Kjatai!"  She looked down at herself in horror, breathing in rapid, shallow gasps.  "No.  Oh, no…"</div> <div> She was in a body, but it was not her own.  Her condition was scarcely deplorable-after all, it was a very handsome, very fit body-a very <I>male </I>body.</div> <bR> <div> She was being sent to Hades.  Once Selene had stopped having hysterics, the goddess thought that Kjatai might be some spirit, escaped from the Underworld, who had possessed the body of her beloved.  As such, she was one of the Great Gods' domains, and was to be delivered to them with the utmost of haste.  </div> <div> Kjatai was numb.  Shivering with reaction, she huddled in the corner of her prison-cube, her knees drawn up to her chest.  She could scarcely keep her feet in this body.  The balance was off; everything was off.  She had nearly died of embarrassment when she relieved herself.  And this body wasn't even in pants, but some sort of T-tunic….She was very tired of waiting.</div> <div> After innumerable hours, the door to her prison groaned open.  Squinting against the light, Kjatai caught her breath.  Dazzling color danced before her eyes, and she shook her head violently, knuckling away dazzle-tears in an effort to see.  </div> <div> "Linos?" said the colors, and Kjatai, eyes streaming, looked away.  The voice was female, powerful and commanding, and over the ringing in her ears, Kjatai thought that she heard hope in it.  </div> <div> "Linos?" the voice said again, sharper.  "Linos, son of Marcus, is that you?"</div> <div> A tumble of pale curls obscured her vision-<I>my hair is red!-</I>so that she dared look up through them.  "I am not he of whom you speak," Kjatai said hoarsely.  "I am…a stranger, in a strange land, and not as I appear."</div> <div> The hope in the voice diminished; the colors faded in intensity.  "Ah," the goddess said, unhappily.  "What are you called, then?"</div> <div> She felt as though she were still on the Web.  Maybe she was.  "Briarthorn."</div> <div> A hand curled under her chin, and raised it, firmly.  Kjatai stared into opalescent eyes as she rubbed her tingling jaw.  The touch of the woman's hand had been like grabbing a live wire.   </div> <div> "That is not a friendly name,"  the woman said softly.  "But you don't feel evil.  You are to come with me, Briarthorn.  Hades wants to see you."</div> <div> Kjatai had meant to be bold, but her voice came out as a whisper.  "Who are you?"</div> <div> A thousand colors scythed through her field of vision, and made her land heavily on her knees.  "Iris."</div> <div> She shook her head to clear it, and climbed shakily to her feet, avoiding touching the goddess again.  Her head was spinning.  <I>The Greek gods.  I've been talking with the Greek gods.  </I></div> <div> "This way, Briarthorn," Iris said, beckoning.  Dazed, Kjatai went.</div> <bR> <div> The messenger goddess' brightness was alien to the Underworld.  Her colors jarred against the soft darkness. Now that Kjatai's eyes-<I>whoever's eyes I'm looking through-</I>had adjusted to the woman's prismed brilliance, she could see that Iris' lips were pressed in a thin line, and her nostrils were flared in an expression somewhere between alarm and disgust.  If she had not been grimacing, she would have been extraordinarily beautiful.  </div> <div> There was a silence about this place that made Kjatai uneasy.  It was not ominous; the darkness was not ominous, either.  There was just a heavy sense of <I>waiting</I>, of something watching and judging.  The velvety blackness was peaceful, but it was also sad.  The best description of the emotion Kjatai felt was the word <I>hiraeth</I>-a soul-rocking yearning, a thousand life-wishes unfulfilled, a melancholy sweetness that stole the breath from her lungs.  </div> <div> She stared into the twilight for a long, long time before she could make out two forms sitting on a dais, still as statues.  One of them, a woman, was seated on a low stool, and she had a glow of health and youth about her, even while sitting in the dark.  She had a full mane of hair, brown and green, and she had leant her sleek head over on the other, throned figure's knee.  She looked…dormant, half-aware.  Her barely-visible face had a vacant expression, and her eyes were a million miles away.  </div> <div> "Persephone," Iris said in an undertone, her expression unreadable.  "And Hades."</div> <div> She could not see the face of the Lord of the Underworld.  Only the suggestion of knees, where Persephone shed her glow, and the reflected gleam in a pair of ancient eyes.  While the spring goddess' chest rose and fell, there was no movement of life in the man who sat enthroned on the dais.  </div> <div> "Iris," said the Great God.  "Is this the one that has upset Selene?"</div> <div> The goddess, looking pale, nodded.  Persephone moved her head uncertainly to gaze at Kjatai.  There was a detached interest there, something that brought a little bit of thought back to those glassy green eyes.  </div> <div> Hades beckoned her forward.  Her body moved in response before she had even realized that the movement in the dark had been a command.  Kjatai set her jaw and stared back at the liquid gleam of the Dark God's eyes.  </div> <div> He reached out for her with a big, dark hand, and she flinched, but did not step away.  There was a gleam of metal around his wrist-both wrists, and his ankles, she noted, and around his throat-and his motion made a soft rasping noise, as of rough metal sliding against metal. </div> <div> His hand was faintly warm, like a rock holding heat after the sun went down.  The touch of it made her heart stutter, and her breath come in sharp, ragged bursts.  She stared up at him with her borrowed eyes, hypnotized by the god's dichotomy, and the overwhelming force of his <I>hiraeth</I>.  Her whole body vibrated with it, and it jarred her consciousness, because this foreign body had known similar emotions before.  Kjatai had never felt such a thing.  </div> <div> "Yes," Hades whispered, and Kjatai trembled at the sorrow of his voice.  "This is indeed something to bring to my attention.  Tell Selene that there is a living mortal soul inside this living mortal body, but they do not belong together.  However, the spirit has not yet passed into my domain, although it is not that of a whole mortal.  There is no malice to this one, and there was no violence in her entrance.  Endymion left before this spirit took up his body, but he still lives."</div> <div> Iris' expression eased, and her colors brightened.  "What will we do with this one, then?  How can we get Linos back?"</div> <div> Hades shifted his heavy gaze to the goddess.  "I do not know.  Leave this one here; I will take care of this matter."  His eyes narrowed in the gloom as he stared at Kjatai again.  "I believe that Somnus owes me a visit.  Summon him, if you will, Iris."  It was not a request.  Iris wafted away in a cloud of rainbow veils, and the room was darker than ever.  "Come closer, child."</div> <div> She stepped toward him until she stood at his elbow, her borrowed eyes very wide.  The Dark God put a hand under her chin, as Iris had, and the pale fire and fathomless dark of his eyes stared into hers.  She was drowning in grief, in the dusty dusk of centuries, hopelessly imprisoned, separated from her kin and forced to spend eternity with the dead.  His hand with its vestigial heat, grew cold on her face, and she could feel the heat leaching from her.  Kjatai tried to sway away from the probing, perilous gaze and the death-chill radiating from the god's hand, but she was frozen.  Her legs buckled and she fell to her knees, reaching for the arm of Hades' throne.  All she grasped was a fold of cloth.  Ears ringing, she slumped across the Dark God's lap.  Her vision was shot through with white.  </div> <div> Unhappily, Hades released her gaze, but it was too late.  Kjatai let herself fall into the white, ringing space behind her eyelids, and retreated from the icy sweat that chilled her flesh.  In a few seconds, even that was gone.  </div> <bR> <div> She awoke to the scent of rain and newly opened flowers.  It was a heady odor, and Kjatai breathed it curiously.  Had she been sent to the Elysian Fields?</div> <div> But her borrowed eyes opened to a very close view of a young woman's face.  Kjatai inhaled in astonishment, and nearly choked.  The odors wafting down from Persephone's fresh young face were exquisite, but they were also applied far too heavily.  </div> <div> "Oh, are you awake?" the girl breathed, one snaky green-and-brown curl almost brushing Kjatai's cheek.  "I was so worried."  Her green eyes were very close and very large.  Kjatai turned her head so that she wouldn't have to meet the gaze of another immortal.  She didn't think it was…healthy.  </div> <div> "I'm fine," she said, swallowing, and immediately regretted it.  This body was definitely <I>not</I> fine.  Nausea squirmed in her stomach, and her head pounded.  Her chin and throat, where Hades and Iris had touched it, were numb, and she could feel the bones of her jaw ache with cold.  </div> <div> "You've got a concussion, the healer says.  And you're too mortal.  Dear Hades shouldn't have sat in judgment on you so long."  The beautiful maiden said the endearment with biting sarcasm.  Her lovely face was twisted with hate.  </div> <div> "I…thought…I was…dead," Kjatai said, rather hoarsely.  "Again."</div> <div> Persephone shook her head, then stilled, eyeing her captive audience suspiciously.  "Again?  But Hades said-" </div> <div> Kjatai echoed the goddess' movement, then groaned and closed her eyes against the resulting dizziness.  "I'm…not dead.  Tell you…later."</div> <div> "All right."  The goddess smiled possessively down at her.  "Rest now, and heal.  What's your name?"</div> <div> "Briarthorn," Kjatai rasped.  She thought uneasily that Persephone's expression was identical to the one Selene had given her before.  Who did they think she <I>was?</I></div> <bR> <div> The next time she woke, there was no spring maiden hanging over her.  She sighed in relief.  Kjatai wasn't a people person in the first place, and an overpossessive goddess was more than she wanted to deal with, at the moment.  </div> <div> She levered herself up, wincing as her pulse started thundering in her ears again.  Her jaw was still numb, and her balance wasn't too great either, but her bones no longer throbbed with Hades' deathly chill.  Very carefully, she slid her feet over the edge of the couch, and sat up.  </div> <div> After a wave of dizziness that made her cling white-knuckled to the bedclothes, her vision cleared, and she was able to examine her surroundings without too much trouble.  She was in a white-walled room, styled in the classical Greek fashion.  It was rather bare.  There was the reclining couch she sat on, an enormous window with the curtains drawn, a little clothes-press, and a night stand with a beaten-copper mirror on it.  The walls were clean and bare, creamy plaster rising to a ribbed creamy dome.  A handsomely grained door frame also billowed with white curtains, the only barrier between her and whatever lay beyond.  </div> <div> Kjatai staggered to her feet, one hand on the couch-arm.  Her curiosity was stronger than the need to lie down.  Swaying a little, she shuffled over to the nightstand.   Then she bent a little to stare into the mirror.  </div> <div> Her body was very definitely male.  It was handsome, too handsome, into the realm of beautiful, with idealized features that made it look unreal.  In this body, she had pale gold hair that curled around her face like a lion's mane.  Dark brown eyes, staring disbelievingly back at her, were enormous, and her mouth, even slack in amazement, was alluringly shaped.  The body was fine-boned, but strong and tall, with obvious muscles.  She was wearing a short white tunic, and a white wrap around her shoulders that draped to her knees.  </div> <div> What frightened her was that there was no sign of <I>herself</I> in the mirror.  The expression wasn't hers, the eyes did not betray anything odd about her.  She looked like a stunningly beautiful young man in the peak of health, a goldenly youthful god.  </div> <div> "Not feeling yourself lately?" said a voice that made her want to weep, its tone dry.  </div> <div> "N-no," she stammered, jerking hastily toward the intruder.  It was too fast.  Kjatai swayed and almost fell.  Sunwarmed hands caught her shoulders-their warmth seeping through the thin fabric-and set her gently upright again.  She started to thank her rescuer, but froze as she saw his face.  Hades…</div> <div> "My apologies for laying hands on you again.  I had come to apologize for the…intensity…of my examination before."  His face was in the light now, and Kjatai stared, hypnotized.  It was not the perfect beauty of her borrowed features; Hades was not beautiful, nor even very handsome.  But there was more character in the lines of his scarred visage than ever there had been in a face like Persephone's, or Selene's.  He was scarred, too, scarred horribly, weals like brands striping his face, and beyond his face.  His black hair grew in whorls as if the skin there had also been damaged, and the scars ran on under his toga.  </div> <div> "I haven't Apollo's way with words, but I must beg your pardon for letting you come to harm.  You are my guest, not a prisoner.  Your soul is not connected well to this body you inhabit, and I have theorized that my touch jarred it somehow."</div> <div> Kjatai sank back onto the couch.  "I…you are forgiven.  You are no Pythia, either."  What did one call a god?  Sir?  M'lord?  Your Majesty?</div> <div> He smiled, a crooked expression twisted by the scars that ran over his lips.  "I thank you.  What is it that you would have me call you?  The name of the spirit, not the body."</div> <div> "Kjatai," she said huskily, then flinched.  Why had she told <I>him</I> her true name?</div> <div> "Ah."  He tilted his head, blinking.  "Then you are truly female, as I suspected.  Where are you bound?"</div> <div> Kjatai swallowed.  "I don't know.  Home.  Somewhere…else.  There is no place for me in this world, I think."  Pain pounded across her temples, and a great wave of homesickness swept her.  She wanted to be away from here, away from immortals that made her soul shake.  </div> <div> The Dark God closed his eyes, and she saw that same longing reflected there, and a loneliness that shook her in its intensity.  "Yes," he said softly.  "There is no place here for those who live. "  She was staring so intently into his face that the sudden flare of his eyes caught her off-guard.  There was something glimmering on his cheeks.  "I will find a way to get your body back, Kjatai, never fear."</div> <div> At that moment, Persephone came bounding in, her vivid hair flying.  "Briartho-oh.  Hades, I had no idea you'd left the Judgment Room.  I haven't seen you come out in an age."</div> <div> The look she turned on his was as destructive as any spring flood, coldly roiling.  There was none of the tenderness she had exhibited toward `Briarthorn' in her face now.  Hades, however, had a queer, desperate look to him.  His eyes followed her helplessly.  The God of the Underworld turned like a heliotrope to the Goddess of the Spring, and it nearly broke Kjatai's heart.  </div> <div> <I>He is a kind god amidst these haughty ones, but she will never love him.  No matter that she spends half her life here… oh, it is unfair!</I>  She bit her lip unhappily, and cast her gaze to her lap.  This was not justice.  </div> <div> Persephone sat sulkily on the couch, her designs temporarily thwarted.  The god turned back toward Kjatai.  "My dear, I know the route that the former inhabitant of your current body took.  Unfortunately, those wearing flesh cannot take it.  I must rouse instead something less…pleasant.  You must retrieve that spirit before you can take up your own body again."</div> <div> "No!" the goddess said, her face pale.  "You're not sending him out already-he's not healed yet.  Not with the-"</div> <div> "<I>Persephone</I>," the Dark God said sharply, and Demeter's daughter quieted, shocked.  "Will you come with me?" he asked Kjatai.  "It's best if you leave as soon as possible, so that your soul does not develop ties to this body."</div> <div> She nodded dazedly.  Without another word, he bent over her, scooping her up in his black-draped arms.  Eyes wide, Kjatai clung to his neck, and averted her gaze from Persephone's eyelash-fluttering.  </div> <div> The god strode through the fields of Elysium and the tunnels of Tartarus with the ease of long acquaintance.  Even so, it felt like hours before they arrived at a particularly dreadful portal, near a black-watered river.  At the gate was an unmistakable silhouette-Cerberus.  At his side, however, was a creature she had never associated with the Greek underworld.  </div> <div> "Bellerrrophon," a polyphonic voice growl-hissed.  "Isss hhe coming?  I mussst hhaave hhim, Hhhadesss.  I mussst haave my rrrevenge."   </div> <div> Hades shook his head, eyes fixed on the triple-headed creature.  "No.  I have told you, it is unlikely that Bellerophon should ever set foot in Tartarus.  He is a hero, you know."  Cerberus barked frantically, pulling at his chain in a desperate attempt to be closer to his master.  </div> <div> The chimera glowered with its three pairs of eyes, its dragon's tail lashing.  "Why do you come, then?  Why mussst you interrrrupt thisss pitiful excussse forrr aan aafterrrlife?"</div> <div> "Your afterlife, chimera, can be made more to your taste.  I require a service of you," Hades said steadily.</div> <div> The three disparate heads stopped their bobbing, and raised up on their odd necks.  "What would aaa god rrrequirre of me?  Whaat caan I do aass thiss sshaadow of my prreviousss sself?"</div> <div> "I require a worldgate, which only you can build for a living, fleshy creature.  It will be worth your while."</div> <div> "Ssso, the mighty Hhadesss haasss trroublesss of hisss own with morrrtaalsss.  Hhow faarrr you hhaave sssunk, Daarrrk God."  The chimera seemed pleased, as far as Kjatai could tell. The malice in its eyes made her shiver.  It was not just entropy, but active destruction that the chimera embodied. "Now?"</div> <div> Hades was calm.  "As soon as possible, yes.  It is a matter of some urgency." </div> <div> "Sssshrrraaassssaarrr," it breathed to itself.  "Forrr who?  To whherrre?"</div> <div> "For this mortal," Hades proclaimed, and set her gently on her feet.  As soon as she was steady, he moved to pet the piteously ecstatic Cerberus.  "She is looking for the soul that used to inhabit that body.  Linos, called Endymion, a living spirit."</div> <div> "Aasssrrraassh, Linossss, caaalled Endymion.  Come closssserrr, you."  Kjatai quailed, but Hades nodded the go-ahead to her.  Flinching, she came into range of the monster-spirit's fiery breath and sharp claws.  "Put yourrr hhaand on my baack, morrrtaaal, if you daarrre."  Biting her lip, Kjatai laid a hand that was not hers on its heavy-muscled withers.  It was burning, but it burned cold.  Her teeth would have chattered if she hadn't been clenching them so hard.  </div> <div> The chimera looked at her, goat and snake and lion, its yellow eyes unblinking.  "Aan unussuaaal caasse, Hhaadesss."</div> <div> "Do it, chimera."</div> <div> The heads snarled briefly at the command, then arched back on their necks.  Violently, they snapped forward, and in unison blew a gout of flame.  It was a column of fire, taller than a horse, so hot that the stones of Tartarus cracked and ran beneath the blast.  Slowly, a dark space appeared in the air.  As the chimera continued to breathe fire, the blackness broke into curling filaments, showing a vivid scene; a golden beach against a green sea.  </div> <div> She was wondering what happened next when the chimera's tail snaked around her legs.  Yanking her off her feet, the tail whipped her through the fire, into the forming scene.  Hades called after her, longing and loneliness tearing in every syllable, "Ailinon!"</div> <bR> <div> Kjatai lay on the beach and panted for a long, long time.  She coughed sporadically; the heat of the chimera's flame had dried her throat and lungs completely.  Her face felt sunburned, and her tunic was singed and stained with ash and soot.  The heat and grit of the sand beneath her face seemed unbearable to her.  But the ocean was washing against her legs, stinging cold that numbed the reddened skin.  Shivering a little, she rolled closer to the tide.  Even if the weight of the water punished her with every breaking wave, it felt <I>good</I>.  </div> <div> <<If you're trying to drown yourself, that's a very inefficient way to go about it,>> a rather dark baritone said nonchalantly.  When she twitched and mumbled under her breath, something <I>very</I> large walked onto the beach.  The wave it made almost drowned her.  </div> <div> An enormous, oily-black head, sighthound-shaped, blocked the sun, its white-opal membrane glistened startlingly between the dark spikes of its ears.  Slitted blue eyes peered at her as the dragon breathed fishily into her face.  <<Linos?>> it said, frightened.</div> <div> "No.  Briarthorn.  I need to see…Endymion.  Or Linos.  At once."  She coughed again, curling against the convulsive spasms of her lungs.  The world was spinning around her again.  A hope rose falteringly in her that a creature sentient enough to talk had the morals to go with the speech.  </div> <div> <<He cannot come to you, but you can come to him.  Get up, Briarthorn.  Get on my back.>></div> <div> The dragon's back blotted out the sun.  Kjatai doubted she would get even halfway up.  "I can't," she gasped.  "You're too big."</div> <div> Opalescent blue eyes blinked.  <<Oh.  You're hurt, aren't you?  Very well.  Don't be afraid.>></div> <div> <I>Afraid of what?</I> she started to ask, but the question flew out of her with her breath as his nose hit her in the ribs.  The enormous, arched nose shoved at her again, but she realized the dragon was not nudging <I>her</I>, per se, but the sand.  In a moment, it had gotten all the way under her.  <<Grab my ear, if you can, and be as still as possible.  I'm going to put you on my back.>></div> <div> He lifted, and she grabbed for his ear, trying to keep her body as still as possible.  Her hand met slick flesh, but nothing that stuck out enough to hold.  Kjatai had to lay across his nose like a corpse, feeling the air rush around her head.  Her head pounded with a rush of blood, and Kjatai swallowed hard, but now she was sliding off onto an equally slippery back, and she was safe. </div> <div> <<I am going across the surface of the water, but you will still get wet.  Hold on to my crest.>>  The bizarre dragon heaved itself to its feet as she snaked her hands forward, waiting until she had a good grip on the rubbery flesh of its crest before it turned and plunged into the sea.  </div> <div> The dropoff was quite gradual, but the dragon's clumsy gallop ate up the distance in no time.  Soon the lurching of its walk turned into a smoother undulation.  Its large, single-sparred wings propelled it lightly through the water, and its long, stiff tail was used as a rudder.  This dragon may have been awkward on land, but it was grace itself in the water.  Kjatai was awed to feel the massive muscles move beneath that oily hide.  </div> <div> " Dragon, where are we going?" she asked softly, watching the shoreline zip by.  </div> <div> <<To Linos.>>  It-no, /he/, this dragon felt masculine-turned one lambent eye on her.  <<And my name is Gozkirith.>></div> <div> "Gozkirith," she repeated.  The spray from his wings blew on her burned face, and Kjatai smiled.  </div> <div> Soon they were at a tumbledown section of cliff, where the waves broke spectacularly against the jagged stone.  <<Hold on now, Briarthorn.  Take a deep breath.  We have to go under.>></div> <div> No sooner had she filled her lungs than the dragon dove beneath the water.  The surface of the green waves was warm, but as Gozkirith dove, it was colder and colder.  The salt stung her eyes too much, so she'd had to close them.  There were tears streaming from underneath her lids.  </div> <div> The sea started to press in on her, and the blood surged in her head, worse than ever.  Her ears were already agonizing.  Panic welled up as the air began to burn in her lungs.  </div> <div> Just as Kjatai thought she could stand it no longer, Gozkirith shot to the surface.  She breathed a little too soon, and choked, but it was air, and she could breath again-if not see.  Her eyes were still running.  </div> <div> "<I>Gozkirith? </I> You FOUND IT!  How-" It was a male voice, one that sounded just like this body's.  Before Kjatai could clear her eyes of pressure-dazzle, there was an incandescent flash.  She had a sudden, intense feeling of claustrophobia-and an alien, wondering joy made her borrowed body shiver.  </div> <div> There was another <I>person</I> in her head, all of a sudden.  Thoughts and emotions, fierce and strong.  And behind that, an echo of a stranger mind.  The closest was human-but the echo was that of a carnivore, something more than an animal, but entirely inhuman.  </div> <div> {Gods, there's someone in here!  Gozkirith!}</div> <div> <I>~It's called Briarthorn, and it was asking to see you.~</I></div> <div> <I><B>My name is Kjatai Naltoiv, and I'm not an it, I'm a she.</b></I><B> </b>Kjatai projected savagely.  As if her life hadn't gone strange enough, now the body she was possessing had been repossessed!  </div> <div> There was a pause.  <I>{Linos, son of Marcus,}</I> the `voice' that sounded like the body's said.  <I>{The other is Gozkirith.  This is my body.}</I></div> <div> {I…guessed that.  I don't know how I got in here, but I'm looking for my body now.  Hades said I had to find you first.}</div> <div> <I>{Hades?} </I>There was a rapid exchange of mental pictures.  <I>{You really </I>must<I> have raised a ruckus.  Selene is bound to come looking for me.}  </I></div> <div> <I>{She was…very upset.  She doesn't know whether you're dead or alive.}</I></div> <div> <I>{Good,} </I>said Linos, decisively.  <I>{I suppose I should thank you for bringing my body to me.  I never dreamed I would get it back, not without dealing with Selene.  That woman wouldn't let me go without a fight.  She's crazy.}  </I></div> <div> <I>{Yeah.}</I>  Kjatai paused.  <I>{So, uh, what are we going to do about the body?  I…don't have anywhere else to go.}</I></div> <div> She could feel Linos' deeper, unreadable thoughts pick up, his emotions settling to contemplative.  <I>{Since you have helped me find my body, it's only right that I help you find yours.  But first, I think we should visit a healer.  You've beaten me up good and proper, girl.  Best is Saro, but we're closer to Kjanli'eyr.}  </I>There was a comment from Gozkirith, too faint for her to `hear'.  <I>{Kjatai?  Can you manifest at all?  Separate yourself from this body?}</I></div> <div> Dubiously, Kjatai tried it.  Her mind felt cramped as it was; it was easy enough to let Linos `push' her out.  A chilly numbness swept her as she stepped out of that too-handsome body, and looked upon it with a spirit's eyes.  Shivering, she whisked back in.  <I>{Yes, but that's really </I>weird<I>.  I'll stay in here, if you don't mind.}</I></div> <div> <I>{Be my guest…I guess.}</I>  The last was in a mental mumble she probably wasn't supposed to hear.  <I>{Anyway, Kjatai Naltoiv, we definitely should head toward Kjanli'eyr.  There may be something you'll find…helpful…there.}</I></div> <bR> <div> <I>Insert meeting with Analyn here.</I></div> <bR> <div> Kjatai Naltoiv had never been so close to losing her mind.   Linos' thoughts were alien to her, but she was having trouble distinguishing his thoughts from hers already.  While she was in his head, Kjatai couldn't tell who was feeling what.  It frightened her.  </div> <div> More, from Gozkirith's distant mind leaked the thundering, expectant joy of the gathered dragons.  The emotions throbbed in her mind, plucking at her sanity.  Distantly, she felt the heat beating on her borrowed body.  Kjatai was standing, after a fashion, on the Black Sands of Kjanli'eyr.  The hatching wound on for an eternity of heat and bewildering joy.  At last, there were no more eggs.  </div> <div> Kjatai had never expected to Impress.  In truth, she had a hard time keeping thing straight in her head.  Dahliath had been quite insistent that she Stand.  Kjatai had to admit that the idea was intriguing, but she surely didn't feel a part of the candidate group, and she was wasting time that could have been spent looking for a way home.  </div> <div> On the other hand, Linos' body was still pretty beat up.  At the moment, they could only travel short distances, and always by water.  Gozkirith, as beautiful as he was, couldn't function well on land, and his wings were made for the water, not to support him in the air.  <I>If I bond a dragon, I could fly with it…</I></div> <div> There was a strange, hollow feeling in her chest-Linos' chest, to be precise, but her strong emotions were making his body react as well.  The Sands were empty now, and she could spot Analyn coming down to retrieve her.  </div> <div> <I>I've forgotten how to be disappointed,</I> she sighed to herself.  <I>It's beginning to feel like years.  I lose out on the chance of a lifetime, and all I can feel is…empty.  </I></div> <div> But then Adityath nearly stopped their heart.  A long, commanding bugle froze them midstep, and the white proudly drew their attention to an enormous, multihued orb that could only be an egg.  The woman Ryukki explained in a stunned voice, ""Adityath decided she wouldn't say a word about this egg, unless someone showed up who was worthy of it. She says... she laid it <I>after</I> we arrived here!"</div> <div> It was Linos who propelled the body over the Sands, his black-and-opal-white dragon following wincingly behind.  Kjatai was simply too stunned to move.  A distant murmur in her head was Gozkirith, asking something politely of a strong female voice.  <I>Adityath?</I> </div> <div> The shell of the egg began to pulse, quivering like a living thing.  <I>It </I>is<I> a living thing...</I> Colors scintillated off the shell as it moved, shedding rainbows, drawing the trio closer.  The was egg heaved rhythmically, as if it were breathing.  </div> <div> Hesitantly, Kjatai stepped out of the shroud of Linos' body, feeling the coldness of incorporeation on her `skin' like a welcome breeze.  Standing here, manifest, she felt naked.  The chill shivered through her body, and dug like a knife at the base of her neck.  Slowly, she put her hand up to the living metal nestled there.  Her fingers traced the familiar form of the guardian dragon, its features rising in sharp relief to her touch.   </div> <div> <I>Oh, my God.  What am I doing?</I>  Kjatai said in the back of her head, pleading with the Almighty for some indication that this was right.  There was no answer, only the shudder of the egg, and the warmth at the back of her neck where the metal of her port had heated from the touch of her fingers.  <I>But I can't warm my port by hand.</I></div> <div> As if hypnotized, she reached out to touch that living surface.  For a moment, it, too, was warm beneath her hand.  Warm, rubbery-smooth, and <I>moving</I>.  Then, abruptly, her hand sank through the shell.  The flexible stuff stiffened and cracked instantly.  </div> <div> Something inside seized her with a desperate mental strength.  {{Is it you?}}  Then, only a second later, {{Kjatai!}}</div> <div> A wash of emotions, ten times stronger than sharing Linos' feelings, nearly blew her apart.  Courage, joy, determination, weariness, and a tender sorrow flooded into Kjatai's mind, heart, and soul.  The first heady rush was hastily muted as the strong presence examined Kjatai.  Gently, it drew her back together, fixing the damage done, reinforcing places that she hadn't known were thin.  It was healing, it was rapture, it was a sense of completion so sure that Kjatai couldn't imagine how she had lived without this before.  </div> <div>  A multihued creature, colored like an aurora borealis against a smoky purple backdrop, struggled out of the neatly split egg.  {{We're gonna find your body, I promise,}} said a cocky voice soundlessly.  It was young, and definitely female.  </div> <div> Reeling, Kjatai put a ghostly hand on her temple.  "Aren't you a little young to be making such promises?" she asked shakily.  It wasn't that she doubted the capabilities of her new lifemate, it was the sheer amazement of the dragoness' maturity.  </div> <div> Draconic eyebrows rose as Kjatai's bond huffed, {{I'm not too young to know what you need, or to help you plan how to get it back. Besides, I'm gonna take care of you until you do find your body.}}  <I>And beyond,</I> the dragoness promised.</div> <div> "Right after I take care of finding you some food, Kshantreath," Kjatai said, more firmly.  Her hand stuck for a moment on the warm, damp skin of her lifemate before it went through.  Hunger tore at her own belly, and she knew she'd better find some way to satiate Kshantreath soon.  Being incorporeal was such a <I>nuisance...</I></div> <div> {{Allow us,}} said Gozkirith gallantly.  He began to help the hungry hatchling toward the exit.  Linos, his too-handsome face showing a smile for the first time in years, picked up a piece of Kshantreath's eggshell with all the solemnity of a priest before he followed.  Eyes wide, Kjatai strode after them, her long teal skirts blowing in a wind that no one else could feel.  </div> <bR> <bR> <div> <IMG SRC="0a2452a0.gif" border=0 width="325" height="298" ALIGN="BOTTOM" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0"></div> <bR> <div> {{Shouldn't we be going now?}} Kshantreath pestered, spreading her wings as if to take off immediately.  She was half-grown now, a glorious and enormous young dragon who was already doing everything adult dragons were expected to do.  Kshantreath had never been particularly impressed with rules.  She had been born without fear, and had never allowed any in since.  Kshantreath was a prodigy among dragons, but she was also infamous with the fledgling master.  </div> <div> "Not until you graduate, love," said Kjatai cheerfully.</div> <div> {{Your body could be dying, for all we know, and we have to stick around for some stupid ceremony?  This is wasting time!}} railed the dragoness.  </div> <div> "It's not wasting time if it keeps you from getting killed," Kjatai said evenly.  "Since it is my quest and my priorities we are discussing, I suggest you get used to it."  Her tone softened.  "Look, I don't want you getting hurt before I can even touch you properly.  Wait a little while, just for me?"</div> <div> Grudgingly, Kshantreath nodded.  She didn't look very happy about it.  </div> <bR> <div> <IMG SRC="0a4b9880.gif" border=0 width="441" height="648" ALIGN="BOTTOM" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0"></div> <bR> <div> <IMG SRC="0a7685f0.gif" border=0 width="616" height="607" ALIGN="BOTTOM" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0"></div> <bR> <div> Kjatai Naltoiv Impressed Ametrine Galaxy Kshantreath at Kjanli'Eyr.  The change in background color is due to an error in Trellix.  I'm going to move Kjatai soon, so that Analyn's lovely work can be shown off to proper advantage.  </div> </td> </tr></table></body>