Mirai Shoujo Brigitte (MGLN time travel)

[Crusader Jerome]

A month and a day later, I return with a new chapter. It's a little shorter than I would like, but my beta and I felt that keeping just what's here was the right decision. I hope to have the next chapter out in two weeks, maybe, to compensate.

Oh, and I graduated from college last weekend. There's that.

Beta'd by @no., the very model of a modern major general.

Chapter 10: Wherever You Are​

Brigitte rushed through the tunnels, retracing her steps. Okay, status. Location of the Lost Logia, obtained. Demolition tools, unavailable at the moment. Allies, questionable. I really don't want to deal with Doctor Scaglietti again...Yuuno might help, but he still hasn't made up his mind...

She checked the position of Yuuno's beacon on her map. Now that she was outside the mana distortion zone, she could accurately track the rest of the party. The quickest route was...actually, taking a slight detour will be better, if only to decrease the probability of my path being traced later. At the rates that we're moving, I can meet up with them in the chamber with all the side paths. Maybe I can get through without crawling this time. Then just slip through here, and...aha! There they are. The cleared tunnels led directly to this chamber, so it was unsurprising to find the rest of the group here already. Now, nonchalance on three, two...

"Oh, there you guys are! I was looking for you." Brigitte scrambled down a short slope, skidding on loose stones. She came to a stop in front of them. "I didn't think it would take quite this--"

"What were you thinking?" Madeleine snapped.

Brigitte froze. Oh...I didn't plan what to tell her. A knot tightened in her stomach. She hadn't planned for this reaction from the older girl.

"I expected better from you." Madeleine's eyelids fluttered despite having nothing to wipe away, a sign that she was trying, and failing, to keep her temper. "I really don't understand it. Were you just impatient? I didn't think you were the type. You didn't strike me as thoughtless, either. What excuse do you have for disobeying the regulations and separating from the group?"

Brigitte glanced at Yuuno, but he shook his head minutely, keeping silent.

Madeleine stalked over to Brigitte and glared down at her. "Look at me." Brigitte turned her head away. "Look at me!" Madeleine shouted. Brigitte flinched and obeyed. Madeleine's expression softened, but only a little. "Brigitte, did you take the wrong path on purpose?" The girl hesitated, but finally gave a weak nod. "And why did you do that?"

"Because I wanted to see what the unexcavated parts looked like," Brigitte mumbled. "I didn't intend to get lost. Besides, Yuuno and I have a tracker just in case."

Madeleine frowned. "If you wanted to see the untouched area, you could have asked. This is going to make it difficult to trust you in the future. I hope you realize that."

Brigitte looked down. "Yeah."

"And you're not sorry."

Brigitte sighed. "No, I'm not."

Madeleine's breath hissed between her clenched teeth. She turned to Yuuno. "Don't you have anything to say to her?" With a thoughtful air, Yuuno looked at her, Brigitte, and Laurent in turn. The little boy was visibly uncomfortable, fidgeting in place. Brigitte felt much the same about the situation.

"Not here," Yuuno said at last. "I'll speak with her when we've returned." He turned away and began to walk back the way they had come. "It's about time to leave if we want to be in time for dinner. Henri shouldn't have to cook his own food." He paused. "Also, Madeleine, try to be a little less exuberant with your driving. I would prefer to keep my appetite, if possible."

In silence, they followed him, Madeleine going last, holding Laurent's hand. Brigitte glanced back at the older girl as they re-entered the polished tunnel. The signs of anger on Madeleine's face had faded away into disappointment.

Brigitte couldn't decide which expression made her feel worse.

--------------------​

The study door opened quietly, and a teenage boy slipped in. "Hey, 'Gitta! Good to see you! How have you been?"

The little girl crossed her arms indignantly. "That is not my name, Laurent."

He laughed and ruffled her hair. She squeaked and tried to push his hand away, but it was too late. "Lighten up, cousin. Don't be so formal all the time."

"Well, maybe you could stop being such a tease."

He laughed again. "Nope. You should join me instead of complaining about it. I heard the Psychology Association is going to add teasing to their official list of love languages."

She glared at him. "You're making that up. Nobody shows affection by teasing except you."

He cleared a spot on her desk and sat down, letting his legs dangle. "I wouldn't be so sure about that. I've seen your mom and dad tease each other on multiple occasions. I mean, it's a good way to prove you have a sense of humor. People are always going to do silly things, right? If you can't laugh about it, what's the point? Besides, if you're serious all the time, people won't like taking your advice as much."

She leaned back in her cushioned chair. "So I should be funny if I want people to listen to me."

"Yes," he replied, completely serious.

"This is not actually just another joke?"

"Hey, I take my psychology studies very seriously, you know. Understanding how people tick is the first key to being a good leader."

She frowned. "I thought that was your decision-making skills."

He leaned closer to her. "Well, you can't make good decisions if you don't know how to predict what your sailors will do, right? Right?"

She pushed his head away. "For your information, I was working before you came in. Please stop distracting me."

He slipped off the desk and examined some of the papers she had out. "What's this? Your homework from school?"

She scowled. "No, this is the mathematics from Daddy and Uncle Henri's new project. I'm using it as practice for calculating quaternions in my head."

Snerk.

She whipped her head around. "What?" she demanded.

"Sorry, you just said mathematics and Daddy in the same sentence. It's like, you talk like a kid and not like a kid at the same time."

"Ugh!" She squirmed out of her chair and pushed her cousin toward the door. "Get out! You are not helping anything!"

"Well, I thought it was funny." Still smiling, he let himself be evicted from the room. Still fuming, she slammed the door after him.

--------------------​

When they returned to the cabin, Brigitte and Yuuno sat on their bunks, both avoiding eye contact. Brigitte felt a lecture brewing, but she had no way to prepare--this situation was a completely new experience, and she had no idea what Yuuno might say.

After a while, he raised his head and looked intently at her. "What did you think would happen?"

Brigitte didn't have an answer to that.

With no answer forthcoming, Yuuno continued, "I'll give you my analysis; you can tell me if I'm wrong. You rushed off at the first opportunity without thinking your actions through. This seems to be habitual with you, jumping into things and dealing with consequences only when you can't avoid them any longer." He sighed deeply, then fixed her with a harder look than she had seen on him before. "Both of us have been holding back from the other. We tried a limited partnership, and since it isn't working, I'm going to stop holding back what I really think. I hope you can do the same."

Brigitte's throat felt suddenly dry. "I can't promise anything."

Yuuno sat up straighter and crossed his arms. "Unfortunate, but we passed the stage for bargains and promises long ago. Just listen for now. It's clear that you only intended to work with me as long as it was convenient; I suspect you allowed me to come with you so I wouldn't involve the Administration Bureau, for reasons you never explained." He sighed. "I must admit, I'm at a loss there, given that the containment of dangerous Lost Logia is the explicit reason for the Bureau's existence."

Brigitte scoffed. "And how has containment worked as a strategy, pray tell?"

Yuuno raised an eyebrow. "Much better than you seem to think. The number of known extant Lost Logia too powerful to be safely sealed can be counted on one hand."

"That's not my point," Brigitte growled. "It's what people do with it after it's sealed that counts. Nobody outright destroys a Lost Logia unless it's a hive of self-replicating murder robots or something. It's always, 'oh, we sealed this dangerous thing, now let's study it so we can replicate the dangerous bits in a controlled fashion.' That kind of thinking is stupid and gets people killed."

"That is a gross oversimplification--"

Brigitte cut him off. "No, listen. I agree with you, you can count the Lost Logia on the level of the Book of Darkness on one hand. I know I'm making a straw man argument. But can you blame me? Do you know what all this research into Lost Logia produces? Weapons! What do weapons do? Kill people!" she shouted, punctuating each sentence with an angrier gesture. "The TSAB is military, and every time it picks up a new toy, that just invites escalation from all the petty crime rings mooching off their tech. I don't want anything to do with the organization that let Project Fate and the Combat Cyborg fiasco go on right under their noses--" and suddenly Yuuno was right in her face.

"How do you know about Project Fate?" Brigitte flinched back, opened her mouth, and belatedly realized what she had just said. "Or should I say, what do you know about Project Fate?" demanded Yuuno, tension building in his formerly expressionless features. Brigitte slid to the side, scrambling to her feet, and backed away. Slowly, evenly, Yuuno followed her, his eyes locked with hers.

She wanted to look away, but she couldn't. "Don't...don't look at me like that."

His hand slammed into the wall near her head. "Start talking."

"I..." Words wouldn't come. Her tightened throat felt about to choke her. She wanted to scream, to run, anything to get him to stop looking at me like I'm a criminal!

Her body glowed teal. A teleportation circle flashed under Yuuno's feet, and he had only time to look surprised before vanishing.

That won't hold, she thought, her analytical side struggling with her emotions. He'll be back here in a few seconds. Almost on autopilot, Brigitte tapped Calliope's bracelet form and let herself fall into a very familiar routine--teleport tag.

Part of her wanted to fall down and cry. The other part said no, focus on the calculations. One mistake could cost her the game, and the stakes had never been quite this high.

--------------------​

Yuuno materialized in the desert outside the city. He looked around in the low light, frowning. Brigitte's--the girl's--teleport chain had led here, but her magic signature was missing. A decoy! The last link in the chain was fake, unless her concealment skills were higher than he thought...worrying about that would waste time. He concentrated on his previous location.

...

He opened his eyes. He could still sense the spent mana from her teleport, but not her directly. He rose into the air to get a better look at the surroundings. This area held scattered rocks and brush, what might have been an oasis in the past being slowly overtaken by sand.

"I know you're here," he called. "Don't bother hiding. Even if I can't find you now, I know what you're after, and I've already called in backup from the Administration Bureau." He paused, but no answer came.

A vital scan revealed the presence of several small animals, but nothing of the girl. Had her head start allowed her to escape completely? Yuuno grimaced, then turned and flew at top speed back toward the city. He had to contact Chrono while enough time remained for communication to matter.

--------------------​

From under a rock, a ferret dragging a bracelet wiggled out of an abandoned hopokk den, shuddering. In a shower of teal sparks, it transformed into a human girl, who promptly collapsed and burst into tears.

 

[Crusader Jerome]

Chapter 10+i: Reflections of a Future Past​

It began before she was born. When Brigitte's parents married and decided to start a family, they moved back to her mother's homeworld. Aside from the occasional trips to Mid-Childa to visit family friends, or to attend conferences with her father when she was older, she spent most of her life on Avenata. It was home.

Naturally, that gave her a front seat to the discovery and study of the Imaginary Space Proto-Vessel, as her uncle called it. Not a catchy or imaginative name, but her uncle was paid to conduct research, not public relations.

Her earliest clear memory was a specific incident from the time when she was three and a half.

...

Uncle Henri staggered into the room, haggard and pale but grinning ear-to-ear. Brigitte's mother caught him before he fell and dropped him into a comfortable chair.

"I've done it, Madeleine!" he gasped. "I finally pieced together the meaning of the inscription!" He pushed a crumpled paper into the woman's hands. "It was...ah, if not for the second set of tablets, I'd have had no way to relate the hieroglyphs to known language. With this, we might be able to safely excavate the site, now that we have an idea of the function of the Lost Logia..." He trailed off, taking in a shuddering breath.

"Oh my," murmured Brigitte's mother, her hand over her mouth. "So that's what it does."

...

Her uncle's absolute elation, his painfully obvious exhaustion notwithstanding, sparked something in Brigitte. It may well have been the defining moment of her life, in that she would later choose to follow her father's path as an archaeologist.

Sans the wild adventures at a young age, of course. Brigitte was an efficient, introverted, bookish sort and wouldn't have enjoyed them, even if her parents had allowed it.

Perhaps that was why her inclination to spend time with her father's friends from off-world was rather low.

...

"Did you and Vivio have fun together?"

Brigitte tilted her head back and forth, thinking. "Well...we did a lot of fun things, but she doesn't really like most of the things I like. She always talks about adventures or fighting or how she's going to get a job as an Air Force mage. Is that because she's a teenager?"

Her father smiled fondly. "I think she's just excited about being able to follow in Nanoha's footsteps. I'm sure you'll have more to talk about next time you see each other. Or is this about her dragging you around to all the interesting places without a chance to rest?" Brigitte's face scrunched up, and he laughed. "It can't be helped, I suppose. She's always been the energetic sort. With Nanoha and Fate as her role models, I wouldn't expect anything else."

Brigitte raised her hand. "Father, I wanted to ask about that. Why does Vivio refer to both Ms. Takamachi and Ms. Testarossa as mother?"

He frowned. "I thought I told you that she's adopted? Nanoha and Fate are her joint legal guardians. They adopted her when she was very young."

Brigitte frowned. "But why? Did her birth parents not want her?"

Her father closed his eyes and clasped his hands meditatively. After a slow breath, he turned his chair so he sat eye to eye with her. "Brigitte, Vivio doesn't have birth parents." When Brigitte only blinked, not comprehending, he added, "Have your biology study materials mentioned cloning?"

Gradually, Brigitte's eyes widened. "Is Vivio a clone?" She thought for a moment. "But don't clones still need DNA from a mother and a father?"

Her father sighed. "Vivio was cloned from a DNA sample of the last Sankt Kaiser, Olivie Sagebrecht. From what I know, there were no genetic alterations. I assume that she gestated in an artificial womb."

"But then where did the embryo come from?"

Her father closed his eyes. "I don't know, Brigitte. Nobody asked Dr. Scaglietti how he made her."

"Who's Dr. Spag--Spaghet--Scaglietti?"

Her father sighed again, more deeply, resting his head in his hands. "He...was the scientist who cloned Vivio from the Sankt Kaiser's DNA. I suppose he's the closest thing she has to a father. Just, he didn't raise her, or really do anything else for her, so he's not her real father. And he also did a lot of bad things, which is why he's in prison for life."

"Oh," said Brigitte. "Did he perform a lot of unethical human experimentation?"

Her father blinked in surprise. "Where did you learn about that concept?"

She shrugged. "It was referenced in my biology study materials and I looked it up."

"I'm going to have to take a look at those study materials of yours," her father muttered.

Brigitte pretended to ignore the comment. "What do people do in prison?"

Her father steepled his fingers in thought. "Hmm...I know in some places, prisoners with long sentences are made to perform unskilled labor work, but in maximum security facilities, there's not much allowed beyond basic exercise and occasional visitors." He leaned back. "I know Teana and Subaru visited Dr. Scaglietti once for an investigation. I'm not much of an expert on prisons, so I suppose you'll have to do some research on your own, if you're interested."

Brigitte beamed. "Okay! Thank you, father." She turned to leave.

"...I wouldn't mind being called 'Dad', you know..."

Not knowing how to respond, Brigitte simply left the room.

...

Of course, Brigitte's personal research was insufficient to answer many such purely academic questions, so she had to get in contact with the experts. Over the next few years, she began a series of correspondences with her father's aid. Most were simple exchanges of information. Others were more...complicated.

...

"I warn you, be on your best behavior while my daughter is present. Visitation privileges can be revoked if you do not adhere to a proper standard of conduct."

The man on the other side of the partition chuckled. "Oh, Dr. Scrya, there's no need to worry about me. I have learned many lessons during my stay here. Prison life does wonders for a man's sense of discipline."

"You know the reasons for my concern," said Brigitte's father, unamused. "That being said..." He glanced at Brigitte, and his tone softened. "You had questions for Dr. Scaglietti?"

Brigitte nodded. "Could you...not be here while we talk, please? It would make me feel overly self-conscious if you stay."

He raised an eyebrow.

"Father, we talked about this. I'll even discuss the transcript of the interview with you later, if you want."

He sighed. "All right. I'll, just, be over there, if you need me." He walked away.

Doctor Scaglietti chuckled. "I have quite the respect for your father, you know. He's probably the second greatest authority on Lost Logia in Administrated Space."

Brigitte rolled her eyes. "The first being yourself, obviously."

The doctor spread his hands, shrugging. "Well, I had the advantage of time, resources, and illegality. Besides, I hardly ever made modifications to existing systems, except those of my own design. But really, I do envy him the firsthand experience of the Jewel Seeds and the Book of Darkness in their natural habitats. When I had Jewel Seeds, I had to restrict myself to using them as mana batteries. It was somewhat dull, but I simply couldn't risk the appearance of a monster in one of my facilities, you understand."

"Do you always ramble like this?" asked Brigitte.

Doctor Scaglietti tapped his fingers against the glass. "Ah, my apologies. It's become a tendency of mine, I've been told. Ever since my arrest, I've had little chance to do anything. My only activities are meals, basic exercise, and the occasional visit. The wardens won't allow me near anything with moving parts; I'm sure you understand why."

Brigitte stared flatly at him. "Well, I would appreciate a more direct approach to answering my questions. Anecdotes are fine, but I would prefer to avoid tangents."

The doctor smiled. "Of course, of course. Ask away."

...

Eventually, Brigitte got tired of taking her individual questions to Doctor Scaglietti and petitioned that he be given paper with which to write scientific essays.

It wasn't long afterward that she began to seek his help with calculations concerning a proposed method of travel through imaginary space. By the time her father found out, their collaborative contribution to the rehabilitation of the Imaginary Space Proto-Vessel was unmistakable, and he had to bring them aboard the project.

News of Doctor Scaglietti's involvement must have got out, for barely a year later...

...

"I...will speak with Dr. Durand," stated the visitor.

Brigitte frowned. "Who's asking?"

"I will speak...with Dr. Durand," the man repeated.

"What is your name?" Brigitte countered. "Whom will I announce to Dr. Durand as visitor?"

The man stared at her, stonefaced.

Brigitte glared in response. "If you can't answer a simple question, I'm going to have to ask you to leave." She attempted to shut the door, but the man's hand shot out to hold it open.

"My name...Corolla," he rasped.

Her uncle's voice came from the top of the stairs. "Brigitte, is there someone at the door?"

Still struggling to close it, she called back, "Yes, it's somebody named Corolla who wants to speak with you!"

"Bring him up. I'll see what he wants."

Brigitte lost her grip on the doorknob, staring incredulously at the empty staircase. Blinking, she turned back to the stranger and stepped aside. "Uh...this way, Mr. Corolla."

She led him upstairs to her uncle's office and rushed to the neighboring room as soon as he entered, pressing her ear against the wall. There was something not right about that man, and she had to ensure her uncle's safety.

Or, maybe, she was falling victim to paranoia because she didn't like the man on first impression. Trying to keep both possibilities in mind, she strained to hear the conversation.

"You are building a weapon. I will have it." The stranger, Corolla. He sounded more...lucid.

"I'm sorry?" This was her uncle. "I have no idea what you mean. None of my projects are intended for military use. I am an archaeologist."

"Do not lie." Corolla's voice was a growl. "Doctor Scaglietti is involved. There is a weapon."

"I have had no contact with Dr. Scaglietti. His contribution is the responsibility of my niece's husband, Dr. Scrya."

"A vessel that can traverse imaginary number space. Nothing could stop it. The Bureau cannot have it. Give it to me."

"Sir, calm down. I cannot give you what I have not built!"

"Hnnn...prototypes, blueprints. Everything. I must have it."

"Mr. Corolla, you have been grievously misinformed. The project in question is an attempt to replicate the function of an artifact that claims to safely traverse imaginary space." Her uncle was starting to raise his voice. "There are nothing but calculations and a dead machine that has not been operational in over a thousand years. Your demands are ridiculous."

"Give it...to me. I will judge the value."

Her uncle huffed angrily. "If you do not intend to listen to what I say, I must request that you leave. Pray do so before I am forced to call the police."

The room was silence. Brigitte could hear nothing but her own heartbeat.

Then something crackled, and her uncle screamed. Drowning out both, a bestial howl of rage erupted, seeming to come from everywhere. Brigitte clapped her hands over her ears, but the noise pierced into her brain ruthlessly. She gasped from the pain, and realized something.

"Calliope," she hissed, "block telepathy!" The noise almost instantly cut out, leaving behind a much fainter and hoarser cry eching from beyond the wall. "He's...he's attacking Uncle Henri...Calliope, send a distress signal! The police, Father, Mother, anyone!"

[Negative. Communications jammed.]

Brigitte's hands fell limply to her sides. Shuddering, she breathed in and out. "Calliope. Could you repeat that?"

[Communications jammed. Long-distance transmissions not possible.]

Brigitte collapsed on the floor, suddenly hyperventilating. The screams had already died out, leaving only the crackling of open-air electricity.

That too died away, eventually.

[User Alert: Communications open. Confirm distress signal with recipients: Lascaux Gendarmerie, Yuuno Scrya, Madeleine Vert Scrya.]

Brigitte shot up with a gasp. "Yes! Confirm! Send it now!"

[Command confirmed. Transmitting.]

Brigitte was already dashing into the hallway. Blood pounded in her ears as she stumbled into her uncle's office. The stranger was gone. Her uncle lay slumped over the desk, his throat covered in burns.

First step of first aid, thought Brigitte. Don't panic. The self-reminder helped, if only a little. Second step, lay patient on a level surface. She gripped her uncle under the armpits and hoisted him out of the chair and onto the floor. He was heavy, but she managed. Third step, diagnose the injury. She examined what she could see. Burns and bruising on the neck. No breathing.

...He wasn't breathing. How do I deal with this? People die after four minutes of oxygen deprivation to the brain. A healing spell. That's my only option!

Healing was her weakest area in magic. The one basic spell she had practiced, Physical Heal, wasn't even registered in her device. She had never expected to need it. Now she had to go by memory.

Physical Heal, centered around the throat, she thought. She took a deep breath. "Calliope, run a vital scan while I cast." She closed her eyes and focused. The equations for the spell took a moment to recall, but she had properly memorized them, even if she hadn't practiced. She checked them over again, to be sure.

Slowly, steadily, the mana pulsed from her hands into the wound. The room's light seemed to dim and draw together in contracting ripples. Brigitte could feel that the spell formula was working as intended, but that meant only so much. Physical Heal would do little for a concussion or stroke.

"Calliope," she said. "Results?"

[Scan complete. No vital signs detected. Conclusion: subject deceased.]

The words didn't register. "Repeat that."

[No vital signs detected. Conclusion: subject deceased.]

Brigitte stopped casting and lowered her hands. After a pause, she slumped backwards, letting her hands rest in her lap. Her gaze remained on her uncle's body.

They found her sitting there, unmoving, with two dried-out trails of tears on her face.

---

Your flashback chapter, as promised.

Beta'd by @no.

 

[Crusader Jerome]

Not dead!

Yeah...I spent about five months not writing due to getting a full-time job. And then another three months on self-imposed exile from the internet. Se here we are, with a new chapter. This fic isn't dead, I promise.

Chapter 11: An Inconvenient Serendipity​

When Yuuno returned to the Durand house, the first action on his mind was to communicate with Chrono. It had been remiss of him not to arrange for contact options in case of emergency, he realized. He should have asked Chrono for backup, rather than insisting he could handle the situation without help. He knew better than that.

Entering the house, he spotted Madeleine at the table, sorting documents. Holding down his frustration, he walked toward her. "Madeleine, do you have a communications terminal that I could use?" he asked.

She glanced up. "Ah, there's one upstairs. What do you need it for, if I may ask?"

He considered his options, and finally replied, "I need to contact home. Brigitte and I have had a falling-out."

Madeleine gasped. "It's not about what I said, is it? I thought I might have reacted too harshly. I just...I just didn't think she was that kind of girl."

"No," said Yuuno, softly shaking his head. "You're not to blame. I allowed the matter to escalate as it did." He sighed. "Be that as it may, it is rather important that I send my message as soon as possible."

She nodded vigorously. "Of course! I'll show you where it is right away. Feel free to take as much time as you need."

--------------------​

Yuuno went to bed immediately afterward. Searching for Brigitte after he'd already lost her trail would be fruitless. Resting and waiting for help would be more productive than wasting his energy to scour the desert all night.

When he woke the next morning, he was alone in the cabin, as he had been when he went to sleep. Brigitte's bed was untouched. There was, however, a piece of paper on the table that had not been there last night.

After a few moments' hesitation, he walked the short distance to the table and picked up the paper. It was a short letter in unfamiliar handwriting.

Dear Mr. Scrya,

I apologize for my behavior of last night. I should not have panicked as I did. However, the topics then mentioned being a sensitive subject, I will only say that the Bureau is not free from the influence of corrupt or power-hungry individuals who will attempt to weaponize any new technology resulting from the analysis of Lost Logia. Be careful.

I had hoped our partnership would not fail such as it has, but it was inevitable, given the volume of information that had to be kept from you. I am glad that I was able to spend time with all of you, though I wish it could have been on better terms.

I'm sorry I had to withhold the truth.

Brigitte

The name was signed in a decorative script, decked with the simple embellishments of a child's imagination.

Yuuno closed his eyes. His hand clenched around the paper, then let it fall.

Even after all his efforts to reach out to her, he still didn't understand what sort of person she was.

--------------------​

Brigitte had not slept well the previous night. In fact, she had hardly slept at all. It wasn't ideal for her circumstances, but sleeping in the open was hardly safe, whether in the wilds or in the city. Both hopokks and little girls had to beware of predators.

She'd left Yuuno a note after making sure he was asleep. That was the only risk she was willing to take at present; she walked the rest of the way to a public area rather than teleporting.

It was odd, she thought as she sat on a park bench waiting for sunrise, that even with her introverted personality, she never disappeared into the background as she sometimes wished she could. Someone would always notice and try to pull her out of her shell; Laurent, her father, her mother...

...come to think of it, she'd survived her trip to the past so far without time alone. Back when she was young, she would get "peopled out" after only a few hours. Perhaps she had changed more than she knew.

Brigitte cracked a smile as a tired giggle broke from her throat. Several more followed, and she stopped trying to hold them in. Heaving with inane laughter, she let her head fall into her hands and marveled at the horribly inconvenient state of her affairs. What had been the use of going to this time's Dr. Scaglietti at all? She had become entangled with Administration Bureau personnel on her own, despite planning to keep them out of it. She hadn't strictly needed to raid the Infinity Library, either. Why had she bothered? Was it just to prove she could? Or had she been looking for attention, for some sort of affirmation?

It shouldn't matter what Yuuno thinks of me, she thought. He's not my father yet. Was I really so desperate for companionship that--

"Why, Miss Vert! Fancy seeing you here this early. Is it a habit of yours to view the sunrise from here?"

Slowly, Brigitte turned her head to stare at the owner of a certain conspicuously innocent voice. "Mr. Cobalt." Under normal circumstances, she would have tried to hide the grimace that she felt coming on. She felt the awkwardness of not giving a full reply, but she couldn't think of anything polite to say to him. All that came to mind were disparaging witticisms.

The smuggler waved his hand in front of her face. "Miss Vert? You seem distracted. I was expecting a witty comment to the effect that it's impolite to inquire about a young lady's habits." He frowned. "Are you all right? You look rather exhausted." Brigitte just stared back at him. Nothing came to mind for her to say. Frowning, Astrus sat down on the bench a few feet away from her. "Miss Vert, if you need to discuss something, or have need of any service I can provide...well, I won't be going anywhere for a little while, and I can charge the doctor for any costs incurred. I've no reason not to help you."

"And you have a reason to help me?"

He spread his palms. "Perhaps, perhaps not. However, I tend to consider a working relationship...an investment, shall we say, for the future. I do, in fact, understand the concept of delayed gratification, dear miss. Please excuse me if I gave the opposite impression."

Well, if he was offering..."I need chemical explosives for demolishing a stationary target. Anything magic-based won't work."

"Hm." Astrus scratched at his goatee. "And the requirement is annihilation, rather than burial, to be precise? The necessary tools would vary depending on the scenario."

"...Annihilation, yes." It wasn't the word she would have used, but it was adequate.

"Good, good. So, what are we--sorry, you--destroying?"

Brigitte slowly inhaled and exhaled. "Heavy machinery in an unexcavated section of the ruins. If not for the MD field, I could have teleported it out, but..." She shrugged.

"I see." Astrus stared vacantly ahead, tapping his fingers idly on his forearm. "I expected Montignac, once you mentioned the MD field...I suppose a few shaped plasma charges could do the trick, given a primarily metallic construction. It's a fringe technology, due to Administration Bureau influence, but I believe I could get a few on short notice with a bit of cash and a favor or two."

...Now that sounded suspicious. Practical Rule #1 of socioeconomics: nobody does you a service for free unless you have a preexisting bond of friendship or affection. And given the strictly business nature of her relationship with the man..."What do you get out of this?" Brigitte asked. "Is Dr. Scaglietti paying for you to babysit me? My deal with him did not cover any such thing."

Astrus looked at her suspicious squint and burst into laughter. "Oh, that's refreshing! I'll never get tired of that old-fashioned, childlike cynicism." He composed himself. "Your question is valid, however, and deserves an honest reply. Did he pay us extra for a psychological profile of you, based on our observations? Yes. Have I been tracking your general whereabouts? Possibly. What do I get out of this? Why, the chance to facilitate and finance a girl's first real adventure!" He leaned closer, expectantly. "This is your first real adventure, I assume?"

Brigitte grimaced. "Yes," she said, "but you'll excuse me for finding that motivation entirely implausible."

Astrus looked a little put out. "You're not the first to say so," he muttered. "Look here, I'm not claiming altruism of any sort, far from it. It's like the way a rich fellow with more credits than he knows how to use will fund a crackpot scheme on one of those reality serials on the net, just to use his money for something. Not that I'm quite that solvent, mind you," he added, taking a serious tone, "but my day job pays well enough, if you know what I mean."

"Because it amuses you, then," said Brigitte, unimpressed. "And how many children's adventures have you funded, pray tell?"

He flashed her a crooked smile. "You're my proof of concept, young lady! The concept being, of course, whether I find the execution of such ventures sufficiently motivating to make of them a habit."

"Your phrasing is as dubious as...as everything else about you."

"Thank you! I appreciate that, coming from you. Perhaps you could sneak in a comment about my face next? I hear it's quite the popular jibe among your age group these days."

Brigitte huffed. "I don't have friends my age, so I wouldn't know."

"I suppose we have that in common," Astrus hummed. "Do you know, I've not been liked by anyone of my acquaintance for at least fifteen years?"

Brigitte buried her face in her hands. "Please, stop."

"Only if your spirits are sufficiently mended for a serious discussion of logistics." Abruptly, his voice was cold.

Brigitte felt a headache coming on. I can't deal with this, she thought.

Astrus waited, his expression unchanging. Finally, Brigitte let out a breath held in for too long and managed, "Logistics. Let's...let's talk about logistics."

"Good," said Astrus, sharply. "Now, if you could provide concrete details on the size, composition, and general construction of the objects to be demolished, we may proceed in selecting ordnance. If you please?"

"I have the schematic right..." Brigitte had Calliope bring it up. "...right here."

Astrus appraised the diagrams with a raised eyebrow, standing and leaning in to take a closer look at the projection. "May I?"

She nodded, and he brushed his fingers against the hologram, rotating here, enlarging a section there. "This is quite detailed," he murmured.

"It's a composite," Brigitte said. "Some of the notes are mine; the rest are originals." Original to her father and uncle rather than the device's inventors, but Astrus didn't need to know that.

"I see. It's fortunate that you have the internal components mapped. This way, we can dissect it with a plasma cutter before resorting to explosives. Will dismantling and disposing of it piecemeal be acceptable? It will be more cost-effective."

After a moment, Brigitte nodded and said, "The less I'm in your debt, the better."

"Quite, as collecting from you may be difficult."

Astrus asked a few more questions about minor details, and Brigitte answered as concisely as she could manage. Finally, the man stood back and nodded. Brigitte deactivated the projection.

"Thank you for your time, Miss Vert. Let us meet by the entrance to the ruins in fifteen hours' time. I suspect you need the sleep."

'You'll be ready by then?" she asked.

"Assuredly." He raised his hand in a cursory three-fingered salute and turned to walk away.

"Wait."

He stopped and raised an eyebrow.

"Please. Which is your...real face? This, or...the other thing?"

He was silent for a long moment, and Brigitte feared she had offended him—wasn't that a change—but he simply said, "I achieved habits of efficiency only through hard work over many years. They require much mental effort to maintain; therefore, it is natural to conserve that effort except when necessary or particularly expedient."

Brigitte continued to stare blankly after him long after he had gone. Eventually, she roused herself. She had little more than fourteen hours to rest. She ought to make the most of them.

--------------------​

Roughly ten and a half hours later, Brigitte awoke and realized that she wouldn't be able to get any more sleep than that. It would take her most of the remaining allotted time to get to the ruins on foot. She didn't dare fly or teleport—anyone could be watching. And Yuuno...would he be able to detect a minor use of magic from her if he wasn't actively searching for it? She didn't know how good his sensory capabilities were. Best not to risk it.

She had just enough coins left to purchase a bottle of water before setting out.

--------------------​

Astrus stepped back to admire his highly illegal combustion-powered plasma cutter. The true struggle of this venture was to pack a complete set of usable equipment into something he could carry alone. This device was just the thing to bring.

Paula grunted, moving some heavier machinery behind him. "Hey, Astrus. You done fussin' wi'that thing?"

Astrus sighed. So little patience. "Quartermaster Chevron, I am aware of my own timetable, thank you. I'll arrive on location exactly on time and no earlier." Paula snorted contemptuously in lieu of reply. She knew better than to engage him in a battle of pedantry. For all her stubbornness, she could never make him give a straight answer against his will.

Astrus was rather proud of his perfect record of arguments driven to silence.

"Ya know," Paula began, "I kinda feel sorry for the kid. I wouldn't have minded her as a repeat passenger."

"Well, if she didn't want to be taken advantage of, she should have gone to—" Astrus broke off. "I was going to say the Administration Bureau, but..."

Paula barked a laugh. "Yeah, we know how that one goes. Least we're honest about what we do."

If only afterwards, Astrus thought. He wouldn't deny that he had enjoyed the girl's company, but enjoyments were cheap, so to speak, and a potential paycheck was worth more to him than negotiating an honest bargain.

--------------------​

Chrono paused in his packing. Amy was hovering at his office doorway with a questioning look. He turned. "Yes, Amy? What is it?"

She eyed his assortment of items waiting to be put into S2U's dimensional storage. "Chrono, where are you going?"

"Avenata. Scrya ran into trouble."

Amy's face grew serious. "How bad?"

"He spooked the girl, and she ran away."

"Oh." Amy sighed, then rolled her eyes. "Figures. Are you going because it's serious, or because you have nothing else to do?"

"The girl knows something about Project Fate."

Amy gasped. "A new lead."

"Potentially. We've had nothing since the Mondal boy. That's why I can't let this go by."

Amy nodded. "Got it. You have your transport lined up?"

"I've already booked the long-range teleport pad," said Chrono. "I can't legally go there directly from Mid without permits, so I'm taking a second jump via Tsania IV."

"The planet with the volcanic beaches?"

"No, you're thinking of Tirunia. Not even remotely close."

"Wait, I remember! That hundred-story shopping center your mother took us to! That was on Tsania."

"...Yes. That one." It had been a trip.

Amy drifted into the room and pulled Chrono into a hug. "Stay safe," she whispered. "If you get hurt, we'll have to delay the wedding."

Chrono wrestled an arm free and brushed at her hair. "I'll be fine. Just get that cowlick fixed in time for the pictures."

---

​

Welp, there it is. I have a good feeling about this one--and a good idea of where the story is going from here. We're nearing the endgame. (And we will see Jail again before the end.)

I didn't get the chance to get this beta'd, so I'm somewhat more desperate for feedback than normal. Please comment, etc., whatever you guys wanna do.

 

[Crusader Jerome]

This chapter was beta-read by @no.

Chapter 12: Thinking of You​

Time and death.

The two absolute value functions of existence that even magic cannot reverse.

Theoretically, time is merely one of four dimensions of real-number spacetime. But no one can quite explain why it always goes one way, and never the other. The curvature of spacetime due to gravitational potential has prompted hypotheses of a "temporal" potential that causes things to change in the direction dictated by entropy—but these are mere hypotheses, and unverifiable in every respect.

As for death, one could attempt to reanimate a corpse through artificial means, but that isn't the same as making something alive that previously was not, and still further from bringing back a deceased person's soul.

I would go so far as to say that death's permanence is a consequence of the irreversibility of time—though I'm sure someone, somewhere will argue that point, so don't quote me on it. For the foreseeable future, reversal of time and reversal of death will remain squarely in the realm of speculative fiction. And I personally believe they will remain there forever.

- Henri Durand, guest lecture on archeology of temporal mechanics, Avenata University at Bragelonne, TSAB Calendar Year 0082

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It was about a three hours' walk from the city to the ruins. Brigitte knew the route well, so well that she could fly there half-asleep (admittedly, it was mostly a straight line), but she had never walked it before, having always taken a vehicle at more than legal speed. She had forgotten to consider asking Astrus to provide her a ride; however, it was better that she had not. As much as she was indebting herself to him, she had no need to go further. And even she had her pride.

Brigitte's childhood books had given her the mental image of deserts as invariably being immense sand dunes stretching to the horizon on every side, a great contrast to the merely dry and dusty rock-studded plains in which Montignac was buried. The scattered wisps of grass among the cracked earth made an absorbing picture of their own, but not enough to distract her for long. And, while her barrier jacket's environmental functions kept off the sun's heat, it could not prevent her feet from growing sore.

Brigitte still wanted to think she hadn't done anything wrong. Foolish or short-sighted, perhaps, but not wrong.

[User Alert: User has passed twenty minutes in state of concentration lacking external object.]

Brigitte started mid-stride. Had she been unmindful for so long without noticing? This was not promising for the work to be done.

In childhood, she had been prone to bouts of daydreaming. At her father's advice, she had configured Calliope to break her out of distracted streaks, a help she had seemed to need less and less as years passed. What was she lacking now? Sleep? Food? Both were plausible excuses. Stress? No one would blame her for what she could not control.

Why, subconsciously, might she be withdrawing from her present surroundings?

Brigitte clamped down on that thought, held it at arms' length. She plodded forward another step.

[User Alert: Adjust course heading +0.12π]

--------------------​

A reply message had come from Chrono.

Leaving immediately for Avenata. Direct any reply message to Tsania IV before MCT 1557. Will arrive shortly.

Yuuno had to convert to Midchildan Coordinated Time from local time, a rare task since his appointment to the largely sedentary position of Infinity Librarian. Chrono had certainly left little time for exchange of information before his arrival, which was hastier than the Enforcer's usual methods, but he was technically on vacation. MCT 1557 equated to four hours and change from when Yuuno received the message, but Chrono had neglected to mention whether the time corresponded to his departure from Tsania or to Yuuno's reply deadline. If the former, Yuuno might as well wait; any news would come too late to reach Chrono before the last leg of his trip.

Of course, Yuuno's estimation from navigational charts laid Chrono's arrival over half a day away—and an Avenatan day rather than a Midchildan day.

So many standard hours, so few responsiblities to constrain his use of them, yet his mind lingered and would not leave that girl for longer than a moment.

He found Madeleine in one of several rooms of the house dedicated to physical paper, sorting files and clearing dust with a light cloth, her brown hair tied back in a simple ponytail. Yuuno paused, a hand on the doorframe. The light was off and the shutters were down; enough light came in around the slats to see clearly by, but the room seemed as dark as her mood.

Yuuno cleared his throat. "I am going out again to look for Brigitte."

Madeleine continued to file and dust, giving no sign that she had heard. Yuuno waited. At last, her motions slowed, and her gaze edged over to meet his.

"I hope you find her," she said, and returned to her work.

Yuuno turned away himself, but glanced back at her before he left. The previous night, when he had finally admitted the details of his and Brigitte's 'falling-out,' Madeleine had gone from simply worried to sober and serious. No, more than that: repressed. He had watched her perform household tasks these few days, joyful exuberance making heavy work light. Now it seemed the opposite, as if her somber mood were turning light work into drudgery.

Yuuno stepped back into the room. "Madeleine."

"Yuuno," she replied, not looking up.

"Madeleine, do you know why Brigitte's actions have upset you so much?"

Her hands halted mid-movement. Then, she threw down the cleaning cloth and her handful of papers on the desk and crossed her arms over her chest. "Is this about me, or…no, let me rephrase that. Are you trying to explain what happened as a conflict of personality to make me feel better?" She twisted in place. "Or are you here to finish what you said last night about me not being to blame, and telling me someone else is?"

"No," said Yuuno, shaking his head. "Nothing of the sort. I am genuinely asking you because I don't know."

Madeleine tilted her head back. "Perhaps you should think harder."

Something clicked in Yuuno's brain. "Wait…is this because Brigitte lied to you, or because I lied to you?"

"Oh?" she retorted. "You come under false pretenses, playing information games with a child you don't trust, each using my family and me to 'get one over' on your opponent, and expect me not to care that you've taken advantage of my hospitality?"

Yuuno's head dipped, his eyes closing. "I'm sorry," he said.

"I know my disposition is too friendly for my own good," she continued breathlessly, "and I've been burned for it before, and I'm not going to break hospitality on my side simply because you've betrayed my trust once, but--"

"Madeleine."

She swallowed, a bitter look on her face. "I like you both, I really do, and I want to get along. That's why it hurts, don't you understand?"

"Madeleine." Yuuno laid a hand on her shoulder, and her breath hitched. "I can't say I know how you feel, but I have friends who would know how you feel, and I was there." He took a deep breath. "I'm sorry for acting as I did. I have made many mistakes over the last few days, but that is the one I regret the most."

Belatedly, he realized he was invading her personal space and pulled his hand back.

Madeleine brushed at the corners of her eyes with a fingertip. "Mr. Scrya, you don't…" At his imploring look, she started over. "Yuuno, you don't have to take responsibility for my feelings."

"I'm not." Yuuno looked at his open hand and clenched it. "I'm taking responsibility for myself, as I ought to have done from the start." He shook his head rapidly to clear it. "Look, Madeleine. Brigitte is cutting herself off from other people. I don't know why, exactly, but it won't end well for her if she continues like this. I've seen this pattern before in a girl about her age. We almost didn't save her."

Madeleine blinked slowly. "And Brigitte needs to be saved from…what?"

Yuuno's gaze dipped, then he looked back at her, resolute. "I don't know. But she's afraid of something and believes she has no one to rely on." Yuuno paused, and admitted, "Otherwise, she wouldn't have allowed me to follow her in the first place. She's desperate."

Madeleine's eyes widened in understanding. "No wonder she was trying so hard to have a good time with Laurent," she murmured. "There's no distraction quite like an affectionate child." She rested a hand on the desk and smiled sadly. "He's been asking about her, wondering whether she's in trouble. Is it wrong in me that I couldn't bear to give him a straight answer?"

"In trouble," Yuuno mused. "That's one way to put it. Regardless of our views, I'm sure Brigitte believes that she is 'in trouble' with us."

Madeleine shook her head. "I may as well be a stranger, but she does look up to you. I'm certain she wasn't lying about that."

Yuuno's eyebrows rose. "That is…more than she was willing to admit to me." He paused in thought. Then, he clasped his hands. "Madeleine, I want to reach her, but I can't do it alone. Please, help me."

Madeleine stared. "Will my help improve your chances that much?"

Yuuno nodded, then hesitated. "Actually…I don't know, but at this point, I suppose I'm a little desperate, too."

She huffed, amused. "You are allowed to use intuition as a reason, you know. It may not be scientific, but you shouldn't ignore it."

A smile came to his lips. "Believe me, I've seen enough results from intuition to hold to it for the rest of my life." He paused. "You look in better spirits now. I'm glad."

Madeleine looked away. "I was already willing to forgive you," she mumbled, "but your heartfelt apology helped. Immensely." She breathed deeply, then turned and smiled at him. "Now, what's your plan and how can I help?"

Yuuno scratched the back of his head. "To be honest, I'm still putting it together. The key piece of information I have is that Brigitte is after something in the Montignac complex, and her disappearing act was to scope the place out." Madeleine nodded, moving past him to turn on the light switch, and he continued. "I've extrapolated from her hints that she has a very detailed map, possibly more detailed than yours, and the short time she spent missing implies that she found what she was looking for. However, the fact that she came back, or at least didn't leave until…" here he grimaced "…my interrogation went too far for her comfort, means that she still has to return for it."

"How likely is it that she was scouting for someone else?" Madeleine asked.

Yuuno's thought process ground to a halt. "I didn't consider that. I thought she might have a backer, but she was adamant that she was working alone. At least, she said she wasn't willing to work with Administration Bureau officials, which is why she rebuffed me at first, which means that her object must be either very valuable or very dangerous—she has trust issues with the Bureau, I don't know the details—let me start over, I'm rambling."

"Yes, what's that about a backer?"

"Right. For whatever reason, Brigitte had the two of us transported by a courier ship arranged by a third party, whose name she intentionally concealed from me. Some 'doctor'. It's possible that she is on a mission from him, or that he has an interest in her target and is using her to lead him to it."

Madeleine's brow furrowed. "So, a Lost Logia, probably, is hidden in the ruins, and either Brigitte or her backer wish to remove it before it is uncovered when the excavations resume. But if such a one exists, how would they have come to know of it?"

"I can't say," replied Yuuno. "Regardless, that can wait until after we find Brigitte. I've no idea what her timetable is, so we'll have to move quickly. I spent much of the night in a meditative state so I could detect if she used any overt magic, but she's either covered her tracks or gone out of range. By the way, do you have a Device?"

"Just a low-spec civilian model," Madeleine admitted. She rounded the desk and dug into one of the drawers, retrieving a small metallic bracelet. "Most of its functions are configured for use in the caves, although the mana distortion field tends to reduce the effectiveness of, well, everything."

"Better than nothing. Do you have any self-defense training? It's possible that we might have to confront some other accomplice."

Madeleine shrugged helplessly. "No more than the mandatory assault awareness training from my primary schooling."

Yuuno nodded. "We won't split up, then. Now, transportation. Our fastest options are flight and…that vehicle. I can't clearly decide which is less conspicuous." Or less taxing for me, he thought.

"The SWERV," Madeleine said immediately. "Nobody flies over the desert."

Yuuno's gut screamed internally.

---

I did it, bois and gels. I made another chapter. (Just in time for me to leave the internet for nine months while I go on missions to tell other Catholics about Jesus.) The last year has been a doozy, but I hope I've grown as both a writer and a person, and will over this next year too.

I'm vacating the site starting tomorrow and lasting until mid-May of 2022. And let me promise you this: I'm finishing this story unless I die first. (Now, talk amongst yourselves)