[Here's the latest installment in my segs, comments are 
requested.]

Operation: Marraketh
"And My Fathers Before Me"

"The cow kicked it over, she winked her eye and said,
 'It'll be a hot time in the old town tonight.'"
	--children's song about the Great Chicago Fire.

	Cyohtee negotiated his car through the throngs of people 
in downtown Chicago. Katze looked from the back seat. The Sears 
Tower rose into the azure depths of the sky and Katze just gaped 
in awe. The skyscrapers of San Francisco were tall, but not as 
tall as that.
	Cyohtee caught her glancing at the tower. "If you want, 
we can come back here and go up to the observation deck for the 
fireworks display. It looks great from up there, and it is air 
conditioned."
	Katze looked at the tower one more time. "Heh, that would 
be cool. Sounds like a neat idea."
	Cyoh grinned, and continued to negotiate the car. After 
what seemed like an eternity and a half, they reached a parking 
spot, and Cyoh pulled his car in. Katze hopped out of the back 
seat, ready to actually see the real city. They came out in the 
bright sunshine and Katze just about took off like a helium 
balloon.
	"Whoa, hold on Katze," Cyoh said.
	Calc came around the side of the car. Cyoh looked at both 
of them. "Now, look, there's a lot of people in the park, and 
we're bound to get seperated. So why don't we meet in front of 
the Art Institute--that's that building over there--say, just 
before sundown?"
	Calc nodded and Katze said, "Sure!" 
	Cyoh said, "Okay, follow me." 
	They walked into the park. Katze was in awe, it seemed 
the whole city came out for this event. And there was so many 
different things to uphold. Differences and diversity, and nobody 
cared if there were three non-humans mixed in with them. Katze 
loved every second of it.
	Sooner than she thought, she was alone in the crowd. She 
could see neither Cyohtee nor Calculus. [Oh, well, it's not like 
it's dangerous or anything.]
	She wandered across the park looking at all the nifty 
things. Somebody stopped her and asked her if she was the Wraith, 
and she nodded. It lead to a couple autographs, but pretty 
harmless stuff.
	It was about three in the afternoon when Katze sat down 
on a bench to watch the crowds. People were so funny. She watched 
an arguement occur between (what she assumed were) a husband and 
wife. She saw kids running through the park, eager to try new 
things. And she saw a few college kids, their beer being raised 
in a toast.
	Just then, she felt a tapping on her leg. Sitting there 
was a little girl, about five, with blond hair and pixie blue 
eyes. She held a little white piece of paper. "A man told me to 
give this to a Katze Brenner," she said, stumbling over the 
unfamiliar syllables of Katze's name.
	Katze grinned. "That's me. Thank you very much." She dug 
through her pockets and handed the little girl a quarter. "Here, 
have yourself some fun."
	The girl smiled. "Cool!" She ran off in the crowd, 
weaving in between men and women.
	Katze opened the note. It read, in a neat handwriting: 
"Dear Miss Brenner, I remember the Golden Bears run through the 
NCAA tournament last year. I happened to see you in the park 
today and remembered you were an intragal part of that team. I'd 
like to see what you're up to a year later, and why you didn't 
play hoops last year. Since Taste is so crowded, I was hoping you 
could meet me in the recital room in the Orchestra Hall. Joe 
Williams, Sportswriter, Chicago Tribune."
	[Hmm. That's interesting. Well, what can it hurt, I took 
the season off for medical reasons, I can just tell him that.] 
Her curiosity piqued, she decided to find this place. She walked 
over to a policeman standing on the corner waiting for the light 
to change and asked him directions. He pointed at the building, 
and Katze nodded and thanked him for his time.
	She entered the building to find a security guard 
standing there. She showed him the note, and he grinned. "You're 
the Wraith?"
	Katze nodded. Her fifteen minutes of fame was starting to 
get a bit annoying. But then she remembered that Northwestern had 
been the team they'd beaten in the second round. Of course 
Chicagoians would remember the stars of the teams that beat their 
teams. Oh well.
	The guard directed her to a room on the second floor. 
Strangely enough, there seemed to be nobody there. The guard 
waved and closed the door.
	The door clicked shut. Katze walked up toward the stage 
area, suddenly getting massive danger signals. She turned around 
to see a tall man with droopy eyes and a short man with a 
dangerous smile. The short man spoke. "Good day, lady of the 
house of Katze." 
	Katze looked at him rather strangely. "Err, excuse me? 
Katze is my first name, not my last."
	The short man laughed, a sharp laugh that sounded like 
gunfire. "You are very funny, lady Katze. But we do not have time 
for funny."
	[Dammit, I walked straight into a goddamn trap. Stupid 
me, stupid, stupid! Why did I come? Because I was so goddamn 
curious!] Out loud, she found her voice again and said, "What do 
you want with me?" 
	"Ahh, we do not want you, lady Katze. But others do."
	"Who?"
	"That's for me to know and you to find out." The short 
man winked at her, and she scowled back at him. "Say goodbye to 
this world, I doubt that you will ever see it again. And don't 
struggle. We wouldn't want you to hurt yourself."
	"What if I run out that door right now?"
	"You cannot."
	"Goddamn it, who wants me?"
	"The Master does," the short guy said calmly. "And I 
wouldn't move. Lehnrin there has got some nasty weapons at his 
disposal, and I'd hate for him to have to use them on such a 
VALUABLE specimin. Oh, the Master and the Chief Servant will be 
happy! It's just been a super-dee-dooper day!" 
	[Maybe for you, sponge boy.] But before the words could 
get out, there was this sensation as if she was falling backwards 
into a black hole, and then the feeling that her body was being 
ripped to shreds and repieced back together again. She did the 
only sensible thing one could do in this situation. She blacked 
out.

	She awoke, locked behind a set of bars. There were two 
spongies on the other side of the bars going through her green 
duffle bag. Although she had a splitting headache, and her vision 
was blurry because her glasses were missing, she could make out 
what they were up to. "Hey!"
	They both turned towards her and said something in a 
fluid tongue she wasn't able to catch. Katze scowled some more. 
"Does anyone know English around these parts?"
	One of the spongies said something in response which 
Katze didn't understand. Obviously frustrated, she pointed to her 
eyes. "I need my glasses. Glasses. Round things that go on my 
face." 
	The sponge chattered some more. Katze scowled. Here she 
was, locked behind bars in god knows where, and of course it 
would figure the goddamn spongies didn't speak English. [Okay, 
Katze. You know Spanish and Russian. Try those, maybe they know 
those.]
	"Donde esta mis anteojas?" she asked, and got no reponse. 
[Don't think it's Spanish they speak here.]
	She thought for a minute, and found the words she wanted 
in Russian. "Gde mayo ochki?" The two spongies stopped what they 
were up to and looked at her in broad confusion.
	[Damn. Okay, next plan.] Suddenly, one of the sponges 
rattled off something that sounded vaguely like Russian, but not 
quite. Katze threw her hands in the air and decided to hope for 
someone who spoke English to show up.

	The Wall Berlin Kaffeehaus in Berkeley, California is 
always a fairly rocking place. There seemed to be people all the 
time, and perhaps that's why it appealed to the group of people 
in the back playing chess.
	Josh Schnider looked at the chess board intently. His 
opponent, Freddy, smiled. It looked like he had Josh in a bind, 
so that Josh either must sacrifice his queen or lose his king. 
There was no doubt in Freddy's mind that he had Josh trapped.
	Josh reached down and moved a piece. "Your turn."
	Freddy looked and couldn't believe he hadn't seen that 
move coming. Josh had captured the bishop that was threatening 
Josh's king with his knight. Why hadn't he seen that coming?
	The phone in the Kaffeehaus rung. The counterman picked 
it up as Josh grinned. "Fred, my buddy, you need to read the 
Chron's chess problem of the day. That's where I learned that 
nifty little move."
	"Is there a Josh Schnider here?" the counterman shouted 
out.
	Josh looked at Freddy. "Hang on, that's for me." He 
wandered over to the counter. "I'm Josh Schinder."
	The counterman looked him over. "Phone's for you. He says 
it's urgent, don't tie up the line, I'm expecting a call from my 
bookie."
	Josh took the phone. "Hello?"
	"Ryan?"
	"Don't call me that over an open phone line, you know 
that."
	"Oops, sorry. Anyway, Lehnrin and I want to report a 
sucessful operation, and note that your father wants to see you. 
No need for you to keep up pretexts now."
	"Yasmolin, you're a stupid idiot who's gone a little far 
with this worship. There is every reason to keep up pretexts. You 
think They will just write her off? No, I bet you the second They 
find out what's going on, They're going to mount a rescue 
mission."
	"Well, your father wants to see you. I don't disobey the 
Master's servant, and I don't think you should either. 'Sides, 
you and I are the only ones who know English."
	"Good point. Give me a half an hour to call the chess 
game quits." 
	"I don't see what you see in that game."
	"I don't see what you see in the Master."
	"Ahh, I get it. Have a super-de-dooper day."
	Josh handed the phone back to the counterman and wandered 
over to Freddy. "Hey, Fred? That was Katze's dad, I guess Katze 
has gotten really sick up in Chico. I'm going to go see her, but 
I've got to go now."
	Freddy sighed. "Just when I had you beat." 
	Josh shook his head. "Not on your life." 
	Freddy stuck out his hand. "Okay, when you're back, I 
call remach. Okay?"
	Josh grinned and took Freddy's hand. "You got it."
	He then picked up his backpack and went running out of 
the Kaffeehaus.

	Katze was trying to sleep. Sleep came in fits and starts, 
as the floor was rather rocky and cold. It looked to be a dungeon 
of some sorts. But she couldn't figure out why she would be in a 
dungeon, nor why they would call her lady Katze. It didn't make 
sense, unless this was....
	"Marraketh," came a voice from outside the cell.
	Katze looked up and tried to focus. "What language do you 
speak?" 
	"The same one that you do, Katze."
	"Then, I need my glasses to see, please?"
	The figure motioned blurrily and something was placed in 
her hands. She unfolded her glasses and stuck them back on her 
face, and tried to maintain a quiet dignity. But when she saw who 
the figure was, she lost that. "Josh?"
	Josh scowled at her. "Gee, what gave you the first clue? 
Get up, now, we're taking you to the throne room, you get to meet 
the Master's Servant."
	"Oh, and who would that be?"
	"Not so easy, Katze, I'll let him introduce himself. But 
in the meantime, I'm only acting as translator until you get a 
decent understanding of Marraketh. It'll help you out in the long 
run."
	"In the long run?"
	"Yeah, when you realize the Master is right."
	Katze shuddered. She got off the cold stone floor, 
realizing what her fate was. Death by firing squad would have 
been a more pleasant way to go. "I will never give into the 
Master."
	Josh just sneered. "That's what you think."
	The doors to the cell swung open. Josh pulled out a pair 
of handcuffs, and cuffed Katze. "Why are you doing this, Josh?" 
Katze asked her friend. "I thought we were friends."
	"You wouldn't understand, Katze, but we've never been 
friends. I've always been watching you, and reporting as soon as 
I was old enough to realize what I was doing."
	"It all makes sense now." The distant memories of 
childhood, once so pleasant, now had a cold tinge to them. "You 
never liked me just for that, you always had some ulterior 
motive?"
	Josh scowled some more. "Yes. Now, c'mon, move! And stay 
quiet!" 
	Katze did as she told, hoping quietly in the depths of 
her soul that Cyoh and Calc would find out she was missing. It 
was her only hope now.
	The walk from the dungeon to the throne room was long and 
winding. More than a few times, Katze wondered if the spongies 
could figure out where they were. Josh kept scowling, and was not 
the Josh she remembered from all those years ago. She let her 
mind wander, and found a pleasant memory.
	Katze, at the time about eight years old, had been 
sitting on the steps of her house waiting for Josh to come over 
and play. He had promised to teach her the rest of the pieces in 
the chess game so that they could play it right on rainy days at 
Waldorf Elementary.
	Josh had come skipping up the walk, holding some pretty 
gold flowers. Katze had recognized them as the ones that liked to 
grow up in the fields after the winter rains, but she couldn't 
remember the name of them.
	Josh had handed the flowers to her. "Hi Katze, I brought 
these for you to remind you that we're gonna be best friends 
forever! And never do anything to hurt each other, and always be 
there for each other."
	Katze had grinned. "Always."
	The two of them had walked into Katze's house. David 
Brenner had been in the front room straightening pillows, and 
when he saw the flowers in Katze's hand, he had freaked. "Katze! 
Where did you get those flowers?"
	"Josh gave them to me, to let me remember that we're best 
friends forever. He picked them for me."
	David had looked at the two kids. He had shaken his head. 
"Does either of you know what flower this is?" Neither kid had 
known, so David had explained. "This is a California Golden 
Poppy, the state flower. It's illegal to pick it."
	Katze had frowned and Josh had spoken up. "I'm sorry, Mr. 
Brenner, if I'd known it was illegal, I wouldn't a done it."
	David Brenner had smiled. "Well, now it's picked, I'll 
put it in a book to save it for you, Katze."
	And that was the end of Josh's minor blunder in the name 
of friendship. Surely, he couldn't have been faking that? Katze 
wasn't sure anymore; nothing made sense.
	They stopped at a pair of double doors. A guard at the 
door said something, Josh replied in an equally fluid answer. In 
response, the doors were opened and Katze got her first in person 
look at the castle throne room.
	It looked like Sid had gathered a crowd around the room 
to unveil his new prisoner. Katze scanned the crowd, taking in 
all the faces. Suddenly, her heart jumped...and then fell. She 
recognized a figure in the crowd, but he had the same glassed 
over eyes as most of the people in the room. But she knew him 
very well, had watched his own conversion through her eyes. He 
was Tyrene Katze, court philosopher...and her father.
	It was at that moment a tall skinny man entered the room. 
Those people who were sitting jumped to their feet, and Josh 
tensed beside her. With one fluid motion, the man leaped up five 
stairs to the throne and sat down. "You may be seated."
	The crowd shuffled into seats. The man on the throne 
looked down to see that only Josh, the guards, and Katze were 
still standing. He nodded appriciatively. "So the savior comes 
back to Marraketh."
	"I am no savior."
	The man didn't seem surprised by Katze's remark. Josh 
looked at her strangely though, and Katze tried to figure out 
what she had done.
	"Ah, very good, very good!" The man on the throne 
laughed. "You are indeed a worthy opponent, lady Katze!" 
	"Alright, who are you?  And why did you bring me here?" 
Katze said, with a bravado that belied the way she was feeling.
	"Ah, I must admit, I am lacking on proper social 
ettiquite sometimes. I, lady Katze, am Sid Harldcast, the 
Master's loyal servant. While he happens to be away on business, 
I rule Marraketh... and I rule it with an iron hand. You happen 
to be some very nasty unfinished business, and I need to get rid 
of you. But since Ryan is so inept, and leaves things in plain 
sight for you to discover the truth, it was left to me to do 
things. And since I can use you..."
	Josh scowled at Sid. "Geez, Dad, and this whole mess is 
my goddamn fault. Well, since Katze has shown us that she can 
deal in the native tounge, you don't need a translator anymore. 
And perhaps you've forgotten that we've swiped one of Them?" He 
turned as if to leave. "If nothing else, I'm going to defend this 
land from the invaders I know are coming."
	"Ryan. You will stay."
	Josh started walking towards the door. "You can't make 
me, Dad." Josh stuck his tounge out at Sid and then started 
stomping towards the door. Suddenly he found himself stuck, as if 
glued to the floor. He turned semily towards the door and scowled 
at Sid. "You're so funny. And so childish. No wonder the Master 
put you in charge!"
	Sid's eyes flashed dark. "Fine, Ryan, get out of my 
sight. Your job is done, now you can do whatever. Just don't come 
measling back to me when you find out that there are no 
invaders."
	Josh's knees buckled under him, and he fell to the floor. 
A nervous titter ran through the crowd, and Katze took the time 
the attention wasn't on her to glance around the throne room. The 
pictures on the wall... besides the fact that they were ruined by 
the Hell Wyrm himself being added to them, they were beautiful. 
But the last panel confused her, as it was blank, except for a 
few spots of color--almost as if somebody splattered paint on the 
wall. 
	Sid thought for a second, as Ryan went storming out the 
door. Katze looked back up at him, praying he wouldn't ask for 
the impossible. Then he said, "Lady Katze, would you care to join 
me in the administrating of Marraketh? You would be a privledged 
servent of the Master."
	Before Katze even had a chance to think about the offer, 
she cried out, "NO! I cannot serve your Master--the beast, the 
destroyer of worlds! I shall rather die than submit!"
	There was a collective gasp from the spongies gathered in 
the room. "Traitor!" someone screamed.
	Katze smiled at the word. "If I be a traitor for 
believing in freedom, so be it."
	Sid tensed up at these words. "Take her back to the 
dungeon and soften her up for a while."
	Katze grinned at this. She'd struck him where it hurt.

	Jail is never fun, especially when you have nothing to do 
except twiddle one's fingers. Katze didn't know exactly how long 
she'd been here, but they made it solitary in every sense of the 
word. The only people she saw was the guard at the end of the 
hall and the person who brought her meals. There had been that 
one questioner soon after the escapade in the throne room, but he 
never came back.
	One of the questioner's questions had intrigued her, 
though. He had asked her how she learned the language so quick. 
Katze thought about it, remembered trying to hide her sudden 
knowledge of Spanish in high school, and how the same had 
happened in Russian after just a few weeks of classes. Katze 
didn't know why, but the process must have speeded up massively 
by being submerged in it.
	She paced in her cell. [But that wouldn't explain it. Up 
to one point, I didn't know a word of the language, all the words 
spoken to me seemed to be just fluid syllables having no coherent 
meaning. It sounded slightly like Russian, but they didn't 
understand Russian, so it couldn't have been that.]
	Katze tried to remember the exact point where she could 
understand the language. When it finally dawned on her, she 
kicked herself. It was all so obvious. Locking eyes with Tyrene 
for that one second was enough.
	She tripped over a stone on the floor of the cell at the 
time of her revelation, and fell. As she was getting up, she 
discovered scraches in the wall. It took a second to find the 
words that matched with the letters, but when she figured it out, 
she looked at it in shock. The letters were the word "Journal" 
carved into the stone.
	Katze played with the block, trying to figure out how it 
hid its treasure. The brick was encased solidly in the wall, with 
not enough space to slip a piece of paper through. Katze gave up, 
and let her head fall back against the wall.
	There was a slight sound of a block shifting. Katze 
looked down and saw that the block marked Journal had slid out 
enough that one could get their hand into the gap behind the 
stone. Katze reached back and found a book that hadn't been 
touched for quite a while, judging from the amount of dust on the 
cover.
	She opened the book randomly and found an ornate script 
that looked suspiciously like handwritten Russian. There were a 
few unfamiliar characters, though.
	She attempted to read it, and found that this account was 
of the defending of the Rhye University Library from the Master. 
Realising the enormity of her discovery, she flipped to the 
beginning of the book. The words she read there shocked her.
	"My name is Tyrene Katze, and I am a prisoner of the 
Master. This is the very same Master I was told would love us all 
equally, and it reinforces my belief that he is here to destroy 
Marraketh, not make it a better place. Warhm fell into that trap. 
I will not.
	"It might be funny to you to realize that the Master, the 
destroyer of freedom and individuality would allow me to keep a 
journal in my cell. It turns out that Remmick, a friend of mine 
in the MRFG, somehow managed to sneak into the Master's army and 
get assigned to guarding me. He slipped the book into my cell and 
told me to hide it. Hide it I did, and I only dare take it out 
when I know it is safe.
	"The guard at the end of the hall likes to sleep a lot, 
and I wait until he is asleep before I pull this book out. If you 
are reading this, and are locked in this cell, I do beseech you 
to do the same. This may be your only hope at keeping your 
individuality and sanity.
	"I intend to write this book to chronicle the 
horribleness of the Master, in the hopes that somebody will use 
it against him. I also want to add a few pieces of advice to the 
daughter I will never see grow up. Be brave, little one, you are 
always in your father's thoughts."
	Katze put the book down in tears. This book had been her 
father's journal from his captivity. She flipped to the last 
journal entry.
	"Today, the Master wishes to see me. There is no good in 
that beast's heart, but I have no doubts that he will convert 
me--either through trickery or through force. It is no matter, I 
would rather die now for my country having chronicled the horrors 
of the master, and if I am converted, it will be as death.
	"Little one, I have no doubts that the next person to 
find this book will get it to you. You may even be the one to 
find it. If you get the chance, please hurt Sid very badly, for 
he is the one which caused the gods (or, as Mikje would put it, 
the old man across the sea) to forsake Marraketh. Remember your 
name, I know you will. Thus ends the"
	The paragraph ended abruptly there, but Katze didn't 
notice. She suddenly realized what her duty must be. [I cannot 
give in, there's too much at stake.]
	Suddenly, the guard appeared in front of her cell, not 
noticing that Katze was carrying a book. He unkeyed the cell 
hurridly and said, "Come on, we can't keep the visitor waiting."
	Katze followed him out. [What visitor? Sid would never 
allow that.]
	The guard took her down some twisty pathways and then 
stopped suddenly. He pointed to a door and said, "You gotta go in 
by yourself, the visitor said so."
	Katze clenched her father's journal a bit tighter. 
[That's interesting. This visitor has enough clout not only to 
see me, but to see me alone?]
	She walked into the room. Suddenly, she cringed as she 
saw the figure sitting there. [Hailmarymotherofgrace...,] she 
thought to herself, suddenly remembering that prayer from 
childhood.
	Katze's visitor stood and motioned her to the table. 
Katze held the book to her chest, sat down, closed her eyes, and 
cringed. She didn't have long to live. Nobody stared down a Lyran 
and lived to tell about the experience.

To be continued in "Those Who Walk With Evil"