Episode 51

(March 14, 2002)

[Author’s note: Almost two months have passed since the events of episode 49-50.]

Daryl had warned Rin how much the countryside had changed, but she was astounded anyway. Almost nothing was familiar.

Rin was no stranger to change, of course. Her life was peripatetic, and it was common for a place to completely transform between visits. She long ago had come to assume she never would experience a given place more than once.

The life of a civilization was brief. Another could occupy the same physical space, draw from the same population, perhaps even inherit its customs and bear some superficial resemblance. But its essence would be new and unrecognizable.

Not too long ago, Rin had read something to that effect in a philosophical treatise by a fellow named Hegel. She did not disagree with his thesis. She had reached the same conclusion on her own and in a less speculative manner: she watched it happen.

This was different. Mere change was not the issue. Though Rin had not followed the progress of the country since her last visit, she assumed her actions on that occasion would precipitate some sort of major change. A regime unable to stop a single invading woman was not long for the world.

But this went far beyond that. Rin realized she once again had underestimated her own impact. It was easy to forget how others must perceive her. Religions had started from less.

Nothing had prepared her for the drastic improvement wrought by a mere two decades. In her experience, rapid change usually went the other way: a once-beautiful city would be sacked or a proud country bankrupted. She never had seen something like this before.

If not for the language on the signs and an occasional bygone farmer, she easily could have been in the rural United States. Though Rin generally did not care who prospered or failed in the course of human affairs, she could not help but be impressed. It would make her life easier too. This time, a pretty American college girl was less likely to draw unwanted attention. Or so she hoped.

Rin knew something was wrong the moment she stepped off the bus. In stark contrast to last time, her journey to the capital had been pleasant, air-conditioned, and uneventful. The bus station was located several blocks from the Palace, and she looked forward to a nice stroll. This would be her only chance to play the tourist, since the walk back would likely be quite noisy. Just as the bus door closed behind her, Rin noticed a man holding a placard with her name. Well, so much for surprise.

Her first thought was of Daryl. If only there was a way she could warn him that they were expected. She cursed under her breath. It would have been bad enough if she merely had neglected to plan for such a contingency, but she actively had resisted doing so. Daryl had suggested just such a thing and she dismissed his proposal on the grounds that communication during the operation would be too risky. Once again, she had failed to weigh the danger to him. Even after all this time with the boy, she still wasn’t used to somebody who needed warning.

On reflection, it was a moot point anyway. Daryl had arrived a week earlier, and by now any trouble must have found him. Rin kicked herself a second time. It would have been nice if he could have warned her. If she had known she was expected, she would have dressed better.

The man did not seem to have spotted her, and Rin considered just ignoring him. Even if he knew what she looked like, he wouldn’t be able to recognize her. But if Karkov already knew she was coming, what was the point?

With a sigh, she decided to make her presence known. There was no reason to be impolite, especially in the face of such an elegantly extended invitation. Rin waved at the man. Though he initially appeared uncertain she was the right woman, something in her bearing convinced him.

After helping her into a nearby limousine, the man began the short drive to the Presidential Palace. He tried to make small talk, glancing uneasily at the rear-view mirror, but Rin brushed aside the harsh words of his language with a disdainful turn of her head. Her reaction to his broken attempt at English was no better, and the man finally took the hint.

When they arrived at the Palace a valet opened the car door, and Rin emerged with effortless grace. This she knew how to do. The driver proceeded to guide her through the selfsame rooms she had traversed years earlier. This time they were far less … untidy, and she had leisure to admire the decor.

Everyone she passed acknowledged Rin with a small bow of the head. Didn’t this place pretend to be a democracy? People weren’t supposed to bow in a democracy. She liked it better when they just tried to kill her. Fawning always disgusted her, and this fawning was at the behest of the man who disgusted her most of all.

At length they reached the Presidential State Room, and Rin smiled as she remembered the sniveling dictator in the corner. She wondered whether the new one would meet his fate with more dignity. If he was this good for the country, she almost felt bad getting rid of him. Almost.

After all, it wasn’t her problem. She didn’t kill because somebody failed to show respect or because it was good or bad for a particular group of people. She killed when she felt like it. She just felt like it a lot less when people did show respect.

Once Rin had entered the State Room, the driver stepped back, gave a brief bow, and closed the doors behind her. Now that she was alone, the room seemed smaller than she remembered. Things always were different in the heat of battle. Was that what it was — a battle? It hadn’t felt like one.

Her eyes settled on the throne, or whatever they called it here. Probably the Glorious People’s Freedom Chair or something equally inane. She half-hoped to see Karkov sitting on it, but something told her he wasn’t even in the Palace. Well, she would play his little game. Until she didn’t.

A metallic glint on the seat of the throne caught Rin’s attention. As she slowly ascended the steps, she wished she had a suitable gown. That would be more appropriate for a Presidential State Room, and certainly more dignified than khaki shorts and sneakers. At least she had clothes this time.

The gleam turned out to come from a thin tiara resting on a small purple pillow. A single metal sphere graced the front of the crown. That brought back memories, though Rin doubted it was an accurate reproduction.

The original crown had been made of a primitive gold composite, laughably low-grade by modern standards. But the value of a crown lay in the obedience it commanded, not its gilding. Only a fool thought otherwise. However, such obedience had become as immaterial to Rin as the choice of alloy.

Nonetheless, the thing did evoke certain long-forgotten feelings. She absentmindedly placed the tiara on her head and smiled. Oh, Karkov. Was all this nonsense really necessary? It wouldn’t change her mind and just brought back sad memories.

After a moment’s thought, she returned the crown to its pillow. The past was best left in the past. Was that his game? To confound her with nostalgia for some idealized past. The man must be remarkably delusional if he imagined she could idealize the past after what he had done to her. Something lost never could be regained, but some things were better lost.