Shin Kidou Senki Gundam W: Frozen Teardrop c6

Once upon a time there lived a rooster called "Voice of Dawn." One day, as Voice of Dawn was walking, a fox came along and jumped upon the high wall. Then, the fox spoke:

From A Thousand and One Nights told by Scheherazade

MC-0022 Next Winter

Katrine Wood Winner. That's my name. My father's name was Zayed Tabla [#1] Winner. He's been dead for decades. My middle name is a [kind of] instrument, as are [the middle names of] my older brother, 'Raberba [#2],' and my father, 'Tabla,' and that's one thing customary to the Winner family. Iria told me that (later). I know Quatre killed our Father and Mother. Mother, after who I am named, died giving birth to Quatre. It seems that for women at the time, 'pregnant' was synonymous with 'death' [#3]. I don't think that's any excuse, but since I had no mother, [they used] techniques from the last era [AC]; I was conceived by in vitro fertilization and born a test tube baby. Ever since I was born (to this world), it's been my fate to shoulder [the question?] of what it means to live.

There is not one life that isn't worth saving. The heaviest thing in [all of] space is life.

That's true, isn't it? For example, the Katrine for whom I am named traded her life so she could give birth to my elder brother Quatre but...... that was the right decision, right? I actually asked [my brother].

"Brother, have you ever been happy you were born?"

"That's a tough question...... I think I'll know the answer when I die."

"How many people have died because you were born?"

"I don't know...... Father and Mother definitely died because of me, I myself have killed many people in war......"

"But, you've saved the lives of many more people, right?"

"Yes..... the people who survived on the battlefield, they all rely on that thought to keep going."

"I've never seen you cry."

"I cried a lot a long time ago..... maybe my tears are frozen now."

"......"

"If you shed a tear and make an apology, then maybe someone will forgive you, but I cannot forgive myself...... so I decided I wasn't going to cry anymore."

Say there is a peaceful world but it's under control, and there is a free world but it's constantly at war, which place is [the] happ[ier place]? Naturally, a world that is free and [has] peace is ideal, but I don't think a place like that actually exists in this world. Both sides find some points upon which to compromise and [despite] a film of little inconveniences, they [must] manage to find satisfaction-- that is the condition of the world in which man lives, isn't it? If sacrificing a few can bring happiness to the many, that must certainly be the virtuous route. However, it's necessary for those who are to be sacrificed to assent. If a mutual agreement isn't reached, then force is used. Whereupon the 'supreme happiness' of the large majority transforms into the immoral 'arrogance' of the strong and absurd demands are made of the weak. [My] father Zayed was of a minority opinion. He was against the militarization of the space colonies. As he was a wealthy man, large numbers of colonial citizens [tried to] coax him into buying them weapons, but he stubbornly refused.

"Humans can just barely live in space. War and whatnot, it's an impossible, stupid act."

I think that's the right opinion. However, Quatre didn't abide by that thought.

"War is sad. But if someone doesn't fight, the war will not end."

He took the mobile suit called Sandrock and went himself to the battlefield.

No matter how perfect the saint, the majority will be full of sacrifice. The problems of space have been much talked about, but if [you're] really going to inquire about the importance of it [224/2/9], then the best method seems to be the decimation of mankind, that (ultimate theory) doesn't feel entirely wrong [to me]. For man, if to live means to sin, then it's better to stop living straight away, what's more, a way to 'atone for sins' must be developed and put into action. It's funny but actually, most people alive don't have [any concept (lit: consciousness)] of 'sin.' Living is natural; and death, [that] certainly ought to be hateful. But my case is a little different. The gift of life was a result of an intentionally performed medical technique; the meaning of [my] life has, from the very beginning, been laid out like something of a mission. The suffering of all the people in this world must be removed. For (the sake) of the happiness of many others, I must volunteer. That was the life given to me. It's okay to treat my life cheaply. Even in space, my life falls under the category of things to be taken lightly.

I decided to wear glasses. Not because my eyesight was bad, it just felt like someone like me didn't deserve to look directly at such a world inundated with beautiful life. Doesn't everything appear clam when looked at with a microscope or telescope? It was something like that. When I looked at the world without [that filter], it was embarrassing and left me rather unsettled.

The scenery that spread before my eyes now was probably Mars' most beautiful. The morning glow of the sun starting to rise. [And] to that the unique solar eclipse [caused by] the first moon Phobos sinking in front. Mt. Olympus towered jet-black off in the distance; a sandstorm raged in the vast red desert stretching out at the foot [of Olympus]. And [there were] two giant humanoid weapons-- mobile suits.

White cloaked Snow White.

Black cloaked Warlock.

I was excited. The two suits, black and white, were paragons of beauty. With my spirits lifted, I called their names. However, the person I admired coldly declared:

"Katrine...... I will kill you."

He had somewhat of a different image from the 'Heero Yuy' of whom Relena had spoken.

"Heero is the man who gave us hope," she had said with eyes downcast in shame/embarrassment [#4]. "I also beseeched President Dorothy. For the sake of brining peace to Mars now, we need him." [#5]

That is most definitely what I had heard--

Trowa Phobos came calling at my back.

"Think about it, Katrine! The ideals of Relena Peacecraft can't be realized [right] now!!"

I knew that much at least. I knew I might be fighting a losing battle. But if someone doesn't fight for those ideals, nothing will change these sad, miserable conditions. I had decided. I would [fight to] achieve Relena's total pacifism.

MC-0015 - 0019

When I was little, I was raised by Doctor Iria. Iria was the one who best understood my feelings. She seemed like a kindly mother. It was probably her that brought me into the world. She is also my big sister and was born a test tube baby herself (I had her tell me). My birthday is the same day (lit: anniversary) of the Mars Independence day. Ever since then, I hear disputes have broken out here and there. But little me was indifferent. Far removed from the (Mars district city), out in the sticks, there was a para-terraforming life dome and there, Iria had opened a small hospital called Winner Hospital [#6]. It was a small, wooden house that looked just like a bird house, yet it housed the latest medical equipment; I remember it running smoothly. Outside the house, a transparent dome isolated us from the rest of Mars and [inside] it was full of beautiful trees, a sparkling late, and birds and squirrels and other little critters flitting between the trees and running around. Each season in the garden, pretty flowers bloomed and beautiful butterflies flew around elegantly. I am sure fairies and dwarves must have lived there. To me, as a kid, that idyllic place was my whole world. And I truly thought I'd never venture out into the outside world. I selfishly dreamed that gentle Iria and I would stay together always. I was pretty much a tomboy and pretty spoiled [alt: hanging on Iria's apron strings #7]. After dinner (just the two of us), Iria often played the violin for me. It was an old violin and she played a beautiful song from long ago. I thought she had a bothersome musical middle name, too, but she said that she didn't.

"Only the Winner family heirs have middle names," that's what Iria said. "[I] want you to succeed Quatre." That was the first time I'd heard the name of my older brother, Quatre.

"Mr. Quatre, he doesn't have kids?"

"No...... he won't marry nor will he love."

"......?" I was amazed. I was little so I didn't understand what she was saying.

"He's a bid odd...... Quatre used to play this [very] violin a long time ago."

"You won't get married, Iria?"

"I'm an old lady." She didn't look [that old] in my eyes. "Moreover, I've got my work as a doctor...... If I said things like this to [my husband], he'd surely get angry." Iria continued her research on Martian endemic diseases. At first, I thought I'd been born to be a guinea pig for [researching] those illnesses.

"Katrine, please, please don't say such sad things," said Iria as she hugged me tight and shed tears. At the time, I honestly didn't care one way or the other but she lavished love upon me unconditionally. There was just one time, when Iria was making a house-call, that I tried to play the violin.

SCREECH......

That was the only [horrible] sound I could make; I knew I really couldn't play the violin. But I managed okay on the piano. I tried playing the song Iria had performed from memory.

"That's great, Katrine! I thought you were a genius......" I think I was about two at the time. But that's in Mars years, I just thought I'd mention that. Iria slept in the same bed with me [#8]. When I couldn’t sleep, Iria would tell me nursery rhymes from a long time ago. Great adventures upon ships, secret caves, flying carpets, genies coming out of lamps; I always listened eagerly. I didn’t know it until later, but those were the stories told by Scheherazade in One Thousand and One Nights. It might have been because of that that I took a liking to reading books. Iria had a veritable mountain of books in her personal collection, if there was anything in there that I didn’t understand, there was a handy thing called a computer [which had] a store of information. My interest grew without bounds and I read all kinds of things about all kinds of [subjects]. People often say [it was] ‘special education for gifted children’ but at least in my case, it was a hobby I did because I liked it, so I didn’t like the term 'education' being used. Also, there was a game called ‘Image Trace’ and when you synched it to your brain waves, you could temporarily reenact data from a specific person. I played with it often. Around then, [when I played] I got [so] into the role of the male hero that somewhere along the line, I started referring to myself in the masculine. I reformed the softwar to suit my needs 226/2/4. For example, I’d download Iria’s violin performance program and although I wasn’t super confident, I could reenact [the performance] so that even I could play “Scheherazade.” But there was a limit to the digital conversion and it had taken several months of continued practice to learn how to play it properly. When I performed (lit: demonstrated) it in front of Iria, she was choked up when she spoke, “You’re like Quatre with that kind of skill…… but you can’t go easy on your practice because (for people) there is value in that which you have toiled over…..” That was the only time Iria [gave me] anything like candid advice. Even when I started referring to myself in the masculine despite being a girl [#9], she accepted it with a smile on her face.

Two or three times every six months, Rashid, a big man with a magnificent white beard, came to our house to deliver provisions, medicine, and the latest medical equipment.

“I really appreciate you always doing this,” Iria politely thanked [him].

“Don’t mention it 226/3/9, Miss Iria.”

I loved Uncle Rashid.

“That’s because we’re Maganacs!” His smiling face was fantastic. “You (lit: Little Miss) look more and more like master Quatre and it seems like you’re [already so] intelligent! Keep it up! I’m looking forward to [seeing you grow up]!” Uncle Rashid’s job was [doing the] Winner family interplanetary shipping and whenever he passed close to Mars’ orbit, he never failed to stop by. Some[where along the line], just when Uncle Rashid came, I noticed that typically bare-faced Iria wore make-up. I began to think that Iria was in love with Rashid, though it is only something I’ve heard about from books. There was just one time when I asked Uncle Rashid as he was working in the garden.

“What do you think of Iria?”

“I think she is a great person.”

***

***

The advancing Snow White brandished its beam saber (overhead). And then in a flash of light, it stabbed the hovercraft I had been on. The cockpit was completely destroyed. I had, before that, jumped down to the red desert and threw myself up a sand dune. I turned around and confirmed the destruction of the hovercraft. The hangar was unharmed.

"Good, looks like I'll still be able to collect Prometheus in one piece......" I muttered as I headed through the raging sandstorm for the lead Maganac suit. The goggles protected my vulnerable heart and eyes. I changed [the control schematics to] manual in the cockpit of the suit named 'Rashid.' From that machine, it was possible to control the [whole] Maganac Corps remotely. I [made ready to] pass the sandstorm.

"Sorry, but I'm going to have to resist!" I (threw) myself inside the cockpit of Rashid.

"The password is 'MAGANAC-8x5' Miss Katrine."

In the back of my mind, I heard Uncle Rashid's voice. I input that password on the sub-board. The main monitor switched on and 'Rashid' started up. The com-link somehow got restored. Amidst a dreadful nose, I could intermittently pick up on the conversation between the pilots of Snow White and Warlock.

"Did you get her?"

"No, she's probably going to start up the mobile dolls."

Bingo. That's just what I'd expect of the pilot I admired. Using the side controls, I [set up] a virtual keyboard. It was a mobile doll control apparatus styled like a piano keyboard. I pulled up the name of a composer who was a contemporary of the composer of the 'Scheherazade,' Rimsky-Korsakov.

"Do you like Sergei Prokofiev? 'Peter and the Wold' is good, and 'Romeo and Juliet' is also pretty, isn't it?" But my tastes [ran to] a piano sonata said to be difficult [to play]. It was also called the 'War Sonata.'

"Well, shall we use 'Piano Sonata No. 7'?" I commenced the performance (handling). With this song, I hailed the Maganac Corps and they started up.

"Oy, oy, the others moved!"

"You [go] slice through the left wing...... I'll attack from right to center."

"Ain't it gonna be hard taking on forty mobile dolls?"

"It's twenty dolls each...... your father could do it with his eyes closed."

"Ch! Big whoop. I'll show you!!"

Their conversation made me laugh. It seemed like they couldn't work as a team yet. In that case, there was hope for me.

"Seven dwarves for Snow White!" I continued my up-tempo performance, "A magic mirror for Warlock!" In my [video data], I had seen the (former [original]) "Gundam Deathscythe Hell" wield that giant [beam scythe] at Brussels on Earth. The beam scythe's destructive power exceeded [my] imagination. It was dangerous to approach the suit from all sides. I needed to send the mobile dolls in a (graduated) wave attack and [have them] firing at all times. Performance time for the war sonata was about eighteen minutes thirty seconds. Hanging on to the mobile dolls was the difference between [success and failure #12]. Seven of [my] best dolls surrounded Snow White. I programmed the remaining thirty two dolls with 'mirror trace' and they challenged Warlock to close-quarters fighting. I didn't think that would give me a win, but at least I [could buy myself some time]. That's how it was according to my calculations. Warlock didn't avoid the hundreds of bullets sniped at it. With a magnificent swing of the beam scythe, [he] destroyed all the ammo in one blow. The area was covered with a flash of light, an explosion, and a blast [of wind]. Warlock moved left and right even as [he] showed signs of going straight ahead. The black cape was whipping [through] the wind and it was both ominous and elegant. [He] planned to make a conscientious attack from the left wing. However, the thirty two suits of the Maganac Corps anticipated [Warlock's moves] all the more and shifted right, putting themselves directly before their target, the Warlock.

"What are these things......?!"

Duo Maxwell, the pilot of the Warlock, was taken aback by the unexpected moves of the mobile dolls. The mirror trace program was working excellently. Making mobile dolls take irregular attack patterns was a tactical theory. However excellent a pilot Duo Maxwell was, I predicted it would take quite a bit of time for him to read the pattern. The Snow White pilot, Heero Yuy, was calmly facing the seven cream-of-the-crop dolls (from my Corps).

"......"

Both sides glared at each other and neither so much as twitched 231/2/7. The seven Maganacs specially [modified] bodies [were equipped with] close-quarters beam canons, hand-tohand combat beam sabers, mid-range support artilerary with homing missiles, high speed chargers for diversions [#13], heavy defense equipment, and more-- all at the read. I maintained a distance [that would allow me to] immediately yield free-for-all battle conditions should either one [Snow White or Warlock] make a move. A shower of sparks shot from the white cape where grains of sand blew against it. Those pale sparks made me feel the quiet [thrum] of war. In an instant, Snow White disappeared (from that place). I wondered if he would come attacking but he didn't. Heero Yuy's suit flew high up in the air and, turning several times as if to lead the seven mobile dolls, retreated (to the rear). The seven dolls made to follow vigorously, but I changed to a slow tempo [song] and instructed them to (act restrained). The purpose of this battle was not to win.

"Katrine, don't you want this suit?"

Heero Yuy opened a com-link and [his] provoking voice [filled my cockpit].

"Yes, of course," I said even s I maintained my distance. "But you aren't just going to let me take it me, are you?" The distance I kept was perfect for [making] preparations to attack another target. I had [yet] to eliminate the most dangerous player from the field. That boy referred to by the perfectly love name 'Nanashi' who had gone and chosen the ridiculous name of 'Trowa Phobos;' if I didn't beat him......

MC-0020 Next Autumn

Oh. They were talking about me. [For starters], I was the last daughter of the house of Winner and a test tube baby to boot. Since [that day], I was increasingly [and, ultimately, extremely] alienated from Stella and my classmates. I might have been Stella's [very] first real (lit: best) friend, but now I'd ended up somewhere around her thirtieth or fortieth. That wasn't a mistake [in and of itself]; as long as the sacrifice of a few [namely: me,] brought happiness to many. The whole thing would be over and done with if the minority [namely: me, again,] just accepted. Going to school became a bore. It was just a place to study. During lunch, I took to reading books in the library. I also tried reading books on history. Before Christ, Anno Domini, After Colony. I taught myself 233/1/9-1-< just how much the history of man consisted of a series of ups and downs. Gradually, I came to learn what the real word was. I felt dry 233/1/7. A 'spare' meant a 'clone' that the wealthy [ordered] at special medical institutions and were to serve as organ donors or 'spare parts' if the clone's owner ever became seriously ill. [It was] that [clone] which the men and women of the wealthy class called their "Little-brother (or sister)-with-the-same-name." However, in Stella's case, her big-sister-with-the-same-name had ended up in a vegetative state so instead of the big sister, it was the little sister, Stella, who received the lung and heart transplant and overcame her standing as a 'spare.' Until then, she hadn't lived with her family but now she didn't have to worry about it 233/2/8. She was physically healthy and had truly gained her 'freedom.' Wasn't that something to be happy about? It was the one thing I wanted most. After all, I wasn't so different (in standing) from a 'spare.' I decided to grin and bear it. A few days later, [instances of] unconcealed harassment increased. Nobody would talk to me, they graffitied the computer inside my desk or broke it; they hid my gym uniform. But I took it all in stride.

"Always with a pretty smile, eh...... Miss Katrine is such a bright [as in happy], good child."

That was how the teachers saw me. Before I realized it, I had begun thinking it was very important to make them feel as ease (about me). The atmosphere in class wasn't bad and as long as I didn't complain or cause a commotion, it was peaceful at the Saint Minerva Institute.

I endeavored not to pray for things. Not because I wanted to negate the existence of God, but because, simply, it's just scary to think of my prayers being granted-- to the point that it scared me. In truth, I've had impressions that there is a 'heart' to space and couldn't it be putting it's will into action? Stella's case might have been a coincidence, but even if [it wasn't], I had the feeling I ought not to wish for my own happiness.

One day, in the afternoon, I was had been getting ready to go home as I always did. My goggles, however, had been lost. Once again, someone had hidden them [just] to be mean to me. If I asked Stella and her friends, they'd probably just say they didn't know and as I didn't have any friends [of my own] to help me look for them, I had decided to give it up for a lost cause and go home. Outside the dome, there were enough dust clouds to make my eyes water. The tears rolled down my face. Frankly speaking, at the time, somewhere in my heart, I hated every person at that school. I probably even thought I wanted them dead/gone [#15].

Out of nowhere, a resistance army raising a cry for 'Anti-federalism' began an attack on the Mars Federal army's naval base. It was a surprise attack by a storm hovercraft and five Mars suits. The negligent Mars Federal army was put down instantly. I'll bet no one [ever] thought a naval port out in the sticks would be attacked. Nevertheless, the Federal army mobilized nearby bases and attempted a desperate counterattack. The students couldn't leave the school and were instructed to take refuge at the shelter on the school's grounds. I made for the school dome, but it was already in emergency lockdown [mode]. I looked up in amazement at the huge humanoid weapons that were closing in. Federal support troops arrived in the area, one after the other. Live ammo from the Mars suits exploded against the school's dome. The dome was easily destroyed and then, the missiles started coming. I couldn't tell if they were from the resistance or the Federation. The old school went up in flames. I was horror-struck. I honestly regretted that another of my wishes had come true. Slightly removed from the school [grounds] was the underground shelter and it, too, was taking hits.

Then, I heard the screaming.

Surely several students and instructors have died, I had thought. War's greatest fault was (probably) that people with no connection to the war [whatsoever] were murdered without any regard for their individual beliefs. I was resigned to accept continuing my poor excuse of a life 234/1/1< 2/1. I thought I had to help them. Even if I could only rescue a single precious life. I ran to the burning school grounds. Before my eyes, the school collapsed with a roaring thunder. Again, I felt acutely aware of my own powerlessness. I happened to look to my feet and there were my goggles. Although I'd hated the people at school for hiding them, I didn't want them to die. I regretted thinking even for a second that I had wanted them dead/gone. I picked up my goggles and ran to the battlefield. The resistance's five Mars suits were still firing and they were heading my way. Ahead of me, there was a Mars suit lying [on the ground]. I thought the machine had been hit and, being unable to move, had been abandoned. It might have some some weapons I could use. I wanted to help the people at the school somehow. That was my only thought as I opened the hatch to the cockpit. The simple security on the outer lock was [easily] broken. What surprised me was the pilot still inside. [He] was a young Federation soldier quailing in terror.

"No... I can't do it......" he was shaking. He had also wet himself. I felt sorry for him. When I looked at the internal display, I saw the energy gauge and accompanying weaponry was still battle-ready. "Can't...... I don't do it."

"Is it okay if I take your place?"

"Huh?"

I had never been in a Mars suit. But I couldn't think of any other way.

"Don't talk crazy, a girl like you......"

"Don't worry, I'll try." I got in the cockpit.

The young soldier spoke as he got out of the way, "Basically, this machine's programmed to respond somatically to me, it's not possible for someone else to operate it......"

I [used] the computer to clear all the pilot's recorded data, "There, now it'll be possible for me to operate [the suit]." Then I took a microchip from my pencil case and downloaded the image trance program. I selected 'Quatre Winner' from the several names listed. That [data] was very old left over combat data. I had copied from the Winner Hospital library. [Quatre Winner] could surely pilot a Mars suit without any trouble. That's what my intuition told me.

"We're going to move! Stand clear, please!" I put on my goggles and made the Mars suit stand up. Courage bubbled up [inside me]. "Let's go!" I turned to face the approaching resistance's Mars suits. The whole reason I was fighting in the first place was to get them away from the school. It seemed, however, that Quatre was skilled at hand-to-hand combat. I took uniquely suitable distance 235/2/6. My opponent seemed to be at a loss. That left a second's worth of an opening. I charged. Eluding the live bullets that were fired, I whipped out the beam saber and tore through the Mars suit holding a bazooka. I was afraid that the pilot had died. But as long as they were on the battlefield, they were supposed to be prepared to die.[.....] unlike everyone at the school.

"As if your life were more important than mine!" 236/1/3 I screamed as I turned to face the Mars suit coming up to attack me from behind and slashed it diagonally from one shoulder down under the other. "It's better not to fight!" Somewhere along the way, I'd picked up a second beam saber and held them at the ready and downed Mars suits that came at me from three directions. I was entranced. It hurt to breathe. I (cut off) the image trace program and pulled out the microchip. "......" When I took off the goggles, I knew tears streamed down my face. My chest, my heart, hurt. The disappearance of five souls was tough. I resigned myself [to the realization that] I could never go back to my regular life. I understood I could not return to school. After a while, Federation reinforcement troops came. Before [they got to me] I jumped down from the cockpit of the Mars suit, flitted over a pile of rubble and kept running away. According to the Federation, I was a perpetrator who had stolen and used a military-grade Mars suit. According to the resistance, I was a loathsome enemy who had killed five of their comrades. It was probably a contradiction. I felt that I had keep living for the people who had died [at my hands]. I kept running, several times along the way, I [had to] push my nearly breaking heart [to go on]. I wanted to see Iria. But after this, when I imagined how much trouble I'd caused, I couldn't contain myself. I was driven to want to go somewhere, anywhere, and [just] disappear. But, just one last time....

At home, a silver-haired, middle aged gentleman and a scholarly type man with long fringe were with Iria.

"Welcome home," Iria received me as she always had.

"Oh, so you're Katrine......" I immediately knew the bright, eloquent voice was that of my older brother Quatre. (I thought) I had come to live my life as I had thanks to this person's fighting style. And the five souls taken in the blink of an eye, that was his fault. "Yeah, you look like mother after all, don't you."

"To take out five Mars suits in your first battle, that's quite something." The scholarly type man spoke as he smirked, "She's the perfect [addition] to our numbers......"

"Disparage me or praise me, it makes not difference to me. I just simply [used] the image trace."

"That's true. But I think it's better if you don't use that toy anymore...... play with it too many times and you'll lose your [nerve (lit: preparedness)] and liability."

"...... nerve and liability?......" I hated myself [for] making excuses. I want to help the people at school. I want to eliminate war. Wasn't that what I was really supposed to be thinking.

"Katrine...... are you living how you want to live?"

"What about you, brother?"

"Finding that answer may lead to death...... but I think you'll find it, if you live."

That was probably it. It wasn't the conclusion that was necessary just now 236/3/7. What was important wasn't the result, but the process.

"Are you going to take me in, brother?" It was okay to handle my life (shabbily).

"If you'll have us......"

In space, my life was just a drop in the ocean. For the sake of the greater good, I had to serve.

"Pleased to meet your acquaintance......" This was the life given to me.

"Nice to meet you. Well then, I am currently going by the name Professor W."

"I'm Doktor..... you may call me Doktor T."

"[Time to] leave the nest," said Iria as she handed me the violin. "You are the only Katrine Wood Winner in the whole world......"

And I took pride in the fact that I didn't have any pride.

"If you ever get homesick, come back home anytime," tears streamed down Iria's face as she offered me [those] kind words.

MC-0022 Next Winter

***

A year had passed since I'd gone to stay at Chryse circus when I'd welcomed a youth called 'Nanashi' as a friend [comrade/teammate]. 'Nanashi' had sad eyes that had a coldness to them that spoke of how he had given up on the world. He seemed to be like me. I played my [best piece] 'Scheherazade' for him. When Doktor T offered 'a place to go home to,' he had selected that 'third path.' And 'Nanashi' had played 'Endless Waltz' on my violin (for me). The solitude in my heart somehow felt soothed. His gypsy style performance was funky-- no, it was cheery as much as it was anything else; it made me feel sad and nostalgic. When I was with 'Nanashi,' it felt as though my accursed fate [weren't mine alone], he let me forget the loneliness. He, however, probably didn't feel that way. My feelings were one-sided. If possible, I wanted to stay with him forever. But he had gone straight away to Earth with Catherine. We'd just met but there was a gaping hole in my heart (and the wind was blowing through). I got even better at playing 'Scheherazade.'

Not long after, I got a [call] from dear Iria.

"Katrine, I need a favor," the message said. I had cleared all the exercises and bored as I was, received permission from Professor W and Doktor T and headed directly to the Winner Hospital. The favor was visiting with Marine Darlian as she'd asked to be allowed to see her daughter 'Relena.'

"Oh, Relena Darlian!" I had only just now noticed. That (hard worker) for the Mars terraforming, that was Darlian's daughter. In retrospect, it's pretty obvious, but I hadn't imagined the mother of Relena, who was in the frozen capsule, was still alive. What's more, I couldn't believe that the lady (herself) had been awakened 239/1/1< 2/1.

"How have you been, Relena?" Ms. Darlian was still calling me [Relena].

"I am Katrine, Ms. Darlian......"

"My legs have become completely weak......" she was using a wheechair to move around but the lady had lost none of her elegance. I'd heard from Iria that it was probably impossible for her to walk on her own two feet again. Due to her long hospitalization and Mars' [weak] gravity, her muscles and bones had been weakened. When the mask-clad Relena announced her candidacy in the Mars Federation's presidential election, I and everyone else had been skeptical. But when I heard her pledge that she'd take off the mask "when the election was over", I thought she might be the real deal. In fact, the unmasked face was unmistakably Relena ([as] I confirmed via the history records). Nevertheless, that didn't pacify the skeptics. It's possible to perfectly replicate [someone's looks] with plastic surgery and I couldn't ignore the possibility that she was a clone. But I thought there was no fooling the mother who had raised [her]. In my case, although Ms. Darlian had mistaken [me for Relena], there was (that much more) unrest in (the pretenders [meaning Katrine's]) that the truth couldn't be concealed. I accompanied Ms. Darlian to the Mars Federation capital, Relena City. That day, an inauguration parade was being held on a grand scale. Ms. Darlian and I leisurely watched the spectacle of Relena's limousine passing by. A few meters ahead, the limousine suddenly came to a halt.

"Mother!" Disentangling [herself] from the SP who [tried to] hold her back, President Relena ran as a little girl [might run to us]. "Mother! It's Relena!"

It was then that, right before my eyes, a miracle occurred.

"Relena!" Ms. Darlian got up from her wheelchair. The young girl and the mother who raised her met gain after so many decades; they had tears running down their faces as they embraced. "I'm sorry, Relena...... I've caused you painful thoughts (just for my sake)."

"No, mother...... I'm delighted to get to see you again, grateful from the bottom of my heart."

I just stood by watching in amazement. Yet intuition told me their innocence and their tears were genuine. There could be no mistake: they were Marine Darlian and Relena Darlian. And a feeling I had forgotten long ago came back to me. That is, the memory of Iria hold me like (that). Feeling loved. Loving. I had utterly forgotten. Just for that, I was grateful to the two Darlians.

That evening, I was invited to the presidential residence. The cuisine that the greatest person on Mars treated me to was remarkably (frugal) and homemade.

"Thank you.... for bringing [my] mother."

"Not at all, I should be the one to thank you." Besides Ms. Darlian, a sister and brother slightly older than me were also seated at the table.

They were Relena's nephew and niece; I was told they were twins. The older sister with beautiful long blond hair was called Naina Peacecraft, the quiet younger brother with black hair was named Milu Peacecraft. They didn't look much alike, so they were probably fraternal twins [#15.5]. Naina looked at me sharply and asked this question:

"Katrine Wood Winner...... Madame is the daughter of a prestigious family, and you seem to be crossing many a dangerous bridge, yes?" It appeared that [she] had looked into my past.

"For the record, I understand [my actions] to be volunteer activities...... 240/2/4-5." As soon as I'd said that, Milu began to chuckle.

"Well, if we're talking about dangerous bridges, isn't President Relena's 'total pacifism' far more dangerous?" He blurted and [tried] hard to hide [his laughing?] 240/2/11.

"It's not funny, Milu!" Naina scolded her [quietly/secretly] laughing brother. "What you just said is inexcusable...... how dare you group her terrorist acts with Miss Relena's sublime ideals!"

"Naina, what Katrine says is reasonable. I would enjoy hearing [her] opinion."

A small smile appeared on President Relean's face.

"Well then, I'll tell you. If the Mars Federation is going to be totally pacifistic, then it's absolutely necessary to have (secret) backing from the United Earth Sphere!"

"I cannot accept that," I was told bluntly, "The Mars Federation has [seceded] from Earth...... you'd do well to remember that."

"But for the sake of maintaining peace!"

"Do you mean to say secret troubleshooting organizations like the 'Preventers' are necessary?"

[She] was cut off by Naina, "The real problem is that [having Preventers] isn't really total pacifism, right?"

The young president sighed deeply, "I believe my old friends are even now continuing on that path," tears welled up in her eyes, "It's like they said long ago: my life is cheap and it's sewer rats like us who fight......" her voice trembled, "but what about their happiness? Surely it can't be painful to keep living in a world of dark shadows [#16]. "I believe a truly perfect peace has no meaning until existences like theirs are gone."

There's no mistaking the morality of sacrificing a minority for the [benefit] of the majority. But it's necessary to have the sacrificing minority agree.

"I agree. If it makes everyone happy, I'll do whatever it takes......" I took pride in never having had 'pride.'

"Step into the light, Katrine...... how many differences are there between you and me? You don't need to think any more painful thoughts......"

"...... but I......"

Milu flitted before me and my voice caught hesitantly in my throat. An angelic smile crossed his face and he [put] both hands to my face.

"......what?" I thought my cheeks were surely turning red.

Milu took off my glasses, "See, just as I thought......" [He] looked intently at me. "You're eyes are more beautiful than the Earth [itself]," and he pressed a violin into my hands.

"......"

Milu didn't say anything more. He seemed pretty much like a silent [type of guy]. It was embarrassing but-- no, because it was embarrassing I started playing the violin. I played 'Ave Maria' in an improvisational style. Milu slowly [started to play] a flute and matched the melody I was playing. I was timid at first but gradually got bolder. I looked at his eyes. His gentle smile was the same. His warm look was dazzling. And the tone of taciturn Milu's flue was very telling. The performance, which was filled with colors, moved on and on, imploring us to follow. I played with all my heart to match the tempo. When the piece changed to minor, I suddenly remembered a feeling that was akin to being enveloped in gentle warmth. It felt exactly as though someone were calling out for me to follow. When I finally thought I'd caught up, he slowed the tempo and this time, it was like [having someone] pressing my back the way the flute now followed [my] violin phrasing. Now, he was telling me to take the lead. I screwed up the courage and took the lead. I ran my bow over the strings feeling embarrassed, like being made to dance in the nude. And yet I discovered a great up-lifiting of my spirit. Before I realized it, [I was feeling] the (pleasant) sensation that the freedom of playing straight from the heart [brought]. Suddenly, I realized Milu had stopped playing and was beaming at me. I had been performing solo. Improvising, I had mixed the melodies of Scheherazade and gypsy. I lost my embarrassment. I performed the solo as if to say "This is me." And next, I would [give] him the main melody. "I'm in your hands," I said with a jerk of my chin (and look from my eyes).

"Leave it to me," he said with a nod. Milu's solo continued for fourteen measures. How spirited was the beautiful sound [he made]. His upper register was particularly clear. His performance oozed with his pure/innocent personality. When that melody rose, he signaled me with his eyes. "This is the climax, play with me," he said with a wave of his flute. I accompanied him with my harmony. Milu gave me a little wink; this time, he took charge of the harmony and I played the melody. The tempo increased several times over but there was neither confusion nor a stutter in our performance. We repeated the melody again and again; it was like floating in a unique spiral until we reached the climax. When we reached the pinnacle, he deliberately fell into a slow temp and (made me) draw the melody of the Ave Maria out of thin air. I had a twinge of fatigue that was close to mild dizziness. Relena and Naina and Ms. Darlian applauded us with tears in their eyes. Milu was also clapping.

On second thought, it was really embarrassing. Milu extended his hand and so I shook it. It was warm (and warm). That duet had been my greatest performance. The night was exactly like a dream---

MC-0022 Next Winter

"Huh. Guess I made a mistake, I did......" I fibbed. But I'd made a decision. [A decision] to help realize Relena's total pacifism.

Chapter end