Dianetics Another Day: Chapter 3
Dianetics Another Day
Chapter 3: Exposed and Expositioned
Shiouji flew into Kabapu's window on the base of a wheeled spotlight, rolling a few feet across the carpet before making a spinning dismount. He swung the light in a graceful arc before shoving it in the Doctor's face, as harsh and unyielding as the hanging bulb in an interrogation room.
"Who is Il Palazzo?" he demanded.
Kabapu swatted the spotlight away. "I know you're upset, but there's no cause to shout."
Shiouji yanked it back into focus. "No, Doctor, I think there is absolutely, undeniably, beyond the shadow of a doubt, very much cause to shout!" His pitch rose with every syllable, and as a final dramatic gesture, he slammed his hands against the desk. Iwata's head was in one of the hands.
"Hey Doc," said Iwata.
Kabapu frowned. "Good lord, are you carrying him around with you now?"
Shiouji missed a beat. "Oh. Yes. Forgot about him. In fact, I found him on the way here. A couple of children were kicking him around like a soccer ball. I had to give them five thousand yen just to get him back. One moment; I'd best plug him in before his brain battery runs out." He shuffled to the outlet, produced an extension cord from his lab coat, and attached Iwata to the wall. When he returned, he slammed his hands back on the desk, but the moment was lost. "The GPS lost her as soon as she went into the underground, but Ropponmatsu tried to contact me shortly before the transmission cut off. It'll take me some time to triangulate the location, but you can clearly hear Il Palazzo speak―"
Kabapu choked on his coffee. "What!?"
"He didn't get to say much before the transmission cut out, but he did say that he was delighted to see her again. Again, Doctor. When did Il Palazzo ever see Ropponmatsu?"
Kabapu dabbed at his mustache with his handkerchief. "I never thought that it would come this far... but I suppose there's no reason not to tell you. No, you deserve to know. I think that the others should hear this, too." He nodded to Momochi.
Momochi opened the office door, and Watanabe and Sumiyoshi fell into the room in a heap. Only Misaki remained standing, and she even had the quick reflexes to look a little aloof, as though she had simply been walking by. They filed in, and Kabapu began.
"I told you the story of Solaria, once, and I'm sure you could have guessed there were many details I omitted. I don't want to bog you down with useless details... and I didn't want to alarm you unless it was absolutely necessary. However, it may have been that I was wrong in ignoring the very identity of the enemy we must defeat; the true face of the man who calls himself Il Palazzo."
Shiouji braced himself for the impact of this news. Yes, he had suspected the truth of Il Palazzo for some time now, but to actually have it confirmed...
"Il Palazzo is a 75-million-year-old genocidal space alien better known as Lord Xenu, former ruler of the Galactic Confederacy."
* * *
Excel woke up feeling uncharacteristically depressed. It wasn't a normal depression, either, but the kind of black, bleeding angst normally reserved for Evangelion AMVs, cutterfics, and days spent in bed eating Ben & Jerry's. Excel ran a preliminary memory check to find the cause of such a feeling, but her memory was its usual self, full of fragments and bad sectors. There being no reason for sadness, the feeling was quickly replaced with the cold terror of panic. After all, she had no idea where she was.
Immediately, she began analyzing her surroundings; white room, futon, outlets, big vents, window overlooking an empty hallway. Not a prison. Not an asylum, either; no padding on the walls. In fact, if she didn't know better, she would have said it looked like an empty laboratory.
A prison or asylum would have been more comforting.
The door was, of course, locked. In the process of trying to kick, punch, jimmy, pick, coax, cajole, scream, and bully it open, she caught the glimpse of an intercom on the wall. She pushed the button tentatively. "Hello? Anybody out there wanna talk to a pretty girl in the scary white room?" She depressed the button. Nothing. She tried it again. "Come on, I know you're out there. Isn't there somebody else you'd rather put in here? That Colonel Sanders guy from Matrix 2? A polar bear in the snow? I bet Misa-Misa would look real nice straightjacketed up in the corner."
This time, a reply came, in the form of a woman's shaky, "Hello?"
"Bongiorno, Francine Dolarhyde. You gonna let me out of here?"
"Um. I'm not supposed to."
"Why not? Who are you? What's going on? Can I call you 'Jane Gumb'?"
"A-actually, I'm not even supposed to talk to you..."
"Who are you? A guard? A temp? The maid? The mistress?" No reply. "A secretary? A nurse? A bloodthirsty serial killer?"
"I'm not a―" the voice said, and cut itself off.
"Why can't you talk to me, anyway? They afraid you're gonna spill their dirty secrets? Why, I think you're a perfectly capable nurse/maid/serial killer! I can tell by the integrity in your voice."
"I'm not a serial killer!"
"No? Am I your first? Are you gonna grind my bones to make your bread? It tastes better if you use flour. It is my body, so you should listen to my cooking recommendations! Maybe some nice steak, with a side of―"
"Kyaaaa! S-stop it!"
Yes, Excel had already decided this person to be completely useless, but hearing that made her feel better. Abandoning the intercom, she moved to the window. It was a bit higher up than she'd like, but she could definitely clear it if she could break out the glass. And she could definitely break the glass if she put her mind and foot to it.
"Hello? Are you still there?" the voice asked, but Excel ignored it. It was smashin' time.
The first kick hurt.
The first karate chop hurt much, much more.
The second kick also hurt.
The third kick hurt most of all. The glorious elation of breaking glass soured quickly upon the realization that her leg was stuck in the window. It quickly changed from smashin' time to screechin' time, and when girl came down the hall, she didn't even have a chance for relief, because she started shrieking even louder than Excel was.
Few mortals can compete with Excel's volume, however, and she quickly conquered the shouting match. "SO HELP ME, IF YOU FAINT OR SOMETHING, I WILL SERIAL KILL YOU."
The girl stopped screaming and burst into tears. "Wh-what should I―"
"GET ME OUT OF THIS PAS DE DEUX WITH THE GLASS BEFORE IT INVITES MY FEMORAL ARTERY TO BE ITS DANCE PARTNER."
"Oh! Yes! Sorry! I'll go get my nurse costume!" She turned.
"BRING THAT WORTHLESS KEISTER BACK BEFORE I KICK IT THREE WAYS INTO THE WEEK AFTER NEXT SUNDAY."
"S-sorry." She returned. "How do you want me to help you?"
"LIFT. THEN PUSH," Excel ordered through gritted teeth, trying very hard to keep her fantasies of violence to a reasonable minimum.
She did not have to curb the impulse for long; the girl's shove spent her sprawling backward onto her head, which made it hard to think of much of anything.
"A-are you okay?"
"Reunion," said Excel. "Must become one with the Planet."
"I'll get the first aid kit."
* * *
A dark cloud hung over the City Security building. No amount of bracing could have prepared anyone for Kabapu's revelation. All Shiouji could say was, "What."
"Excuse me," said Kabapu. "I assume everyone already knows the story after that ridiculous South Park episode."
"What," Shiouji repeated.
"Wait, wait," Misaki cut in. "Are you saying that you're a Scientologist?"
"No, not really. I've been running the church a bit since L. Ron died, but I'm not a particularly religious man. Do you recall the invasive and seemingly-pointless physicals you received when you were first employed here?"
Silence. They remembered.
"Those were tests of your operating thetans; the ability of your soul to take cognitive control of its surroundings. You may not look it, but all of you have tremendous spiritual potential."
"Even Watanabe?" asked Iwata from his corner.
"Even Watanabe," Kabapu confirmed.
This bizarre interlude gave Shiouji a bit of time to recover, and he managed to work up another good shout. "DOCTOR KABAPU. I am trying to be serious here! What does all this talk about Scientology have to do with anything?"
Kabapu peered up at him. "I'm surprised you don't even already know. After all, it was your father who founded it."
"I thought it was the science fiction guy," said Iwata's head while Shiouji sputtered. "Like the Star Wars guy."
"George Lucas turned down the project, sadly. He said he had already started a religion. But yes, Scientology was officially started by L. Ron Hubbard. You can't blame Tenmangu for not wanting his name connected with it, though I think he should have been a little more selective. Your mother would be able to tell you more than I could; she was more involved with it than I was."
Shiouji had nothing to say to this beyond a squeak of protest, so Kabapu went on.
"But as far as the identity of Il Palazzo, and how he knows Ropponmatsu... well, that is a story best begun at the beginning..."
* * *
Excel woke up feeling characteristically disgruntled. It was the sort of disgruntlement usually reserved for being cut off in traffic, stubbing one's toe, and having a pen jabbed into one's eye. She sat up slowly, rubbing her bandaged head, and found herself staring into the face of a nurse.
"Oh, good! You're awake! I was worried."
Excel panicked momentarily before realizing that she had not, in fact, left the lab room. "Not enough to take me to the hospital, clearly," she grumbled, though she was desperately relieved.
"I'm really sorry... I was so scared, I forgot to move the keys into the pocket of my nurse uniform, so now we're both trapped in here."
"Tell me, Nurse Tatase, what are your feeling on woodchippers, and the falling into thereof?"
"My name is Umi," she replied. "Umi Rengaya. It's a pleasure to meet you!" She bowed in a way not meant for her outfit, or perhaps exactly meant for her outfit.
"I'd beat you senseless, Umi Rengaya, but I'm all woozy, what with all the blood being out rather than in." She peered down at her leg, half-expecting it not to be there. To her surprise, she found it neatly bandaged. "Did you do this?"
"I cosplayed Rei Ayanami once," Umi replied, beaming.
"This doesn't have some macabre punchline like you forgot to take the glass out, does it?"
"Oh, no! You did that yourself! Don't you remember? You kept drawing stars in the air and calling for the power of somebody named Satan. Who's Satan?"
"Okay," said Excel. "Too much information. Don't care anymore. Moving on, you gonna let ol' 24601 know what's going on here?"
"I really wish I could, but I don't know myself. The Professor just said not to bother you."
"What did the Skipper and Mary Ann say?"
"Who?"
"Right. Cutting back on the sitting-down stand-up. What professor?"
"Professor Shiouji."
"Professor Shiouji," Excel echoed. "That sounds familiar, in an unfamiliar sort of way. Who's he work for? The government? The yakuza? The pope?"
"I guess he works for the government. What's your name?"
"Don't know," replied Excel, quickly, effortlessly, as one who had been detained on multiple occasions.
Umi gasped. "R-really? Could it be that you have... amnesia?"
"Sure," said Excel. "Why not."
* * *
"75 million years ago... the universe was in crisis! (Though you must excuse me if I'm a little fuzzy on the details; this was before even my time.) The issue was overpopulation, that the people had expanded beyond their space and resources. It was a bad situation to come into, politically speaking, but Xenu was a young man, then. Ambitious. And he had a plan.
"Well, whatever else you can say about him, Xenu solved the population problem. He summoned all of what he called the 'B' class of society; people who were neither leaders nor workers; middle-managers, hairdressers, telephone sanitizers, and the like."
"Telephone sanitizers?" interrupted Iwata.
"Ah, that's a euphemism for toilet cleaners," Kabapu explained. "He always did have some strange grudge against toilet cleaners... anyway, he rounded them up and put them in golden DC-8 space-planes. The space-planes were sent to the planet Teegeeack, which was later renamed to Earth by the Solarian PR department. He dumped them around the bases of volcanoes, blew off some hydrogen bombs, and brainwashed their souls into thinking they belonged here. Next thing you know, we have this beautiful planet.
"Now, Xenu never believed himself to be at fault in this venture. As far as he was concerned, he did the correct, noble thing. He expected to be regailed with applause, but they sent him to Earth as a punishment. Locked him up in a mountain, which is what you did with criminals back in the day. As far as most of the universe knows, he's still there."
"After 75 million years," said Misaki.
"Oh, yes, I almost forgot; Il Palazzo's body is populated with bionic super-nanomachines that make him immortal and indestructable. It was all the rage back then; hence the overpopulation. This isn't a fragile immortality, like vampires or Highlanders, but a durable immortality. He wasn't dinking around with the volcanoes just for giggles." Kabapu sighed. "He'd be able to regenerate from even a single cell! And if we can't stop him, he's likely to infect the rest of the world!"
The introduction of robotics into the story perked Shiouji's interest. "So what you're saying is, Il Palazzo's overtechnology that can destroy the world, as you so blithely put it, is actually the medical implementation of nanotechnology?"
"My word, no. The nanomachines are serious enough on their own, if he is able to replicate the ones already in his possession, but the true danger lies with the overtechnology we must stop him from getting: the computer powerful enough to control these nanomachines. My associates... my friends... if we allow Il Palazzo to complete his final plan, he will play the world like a bad game of Sims!" The sound of thunder in the distance.
A moment of stunned silence. Finally, Shiouji said, "I'm sure that someone might find that all very interesting, but what does it have to do with Ropponmatsu?"
"I'm getting there," said Kabapu, deflating slightly. "Would you like to hear the story or not?"
Shiouji considered this very seriously. He was not entirely sure he did. Kabapu mistook his silence as assent, and continued.
"Xenu remained in that cell until 20,000 years ago. In fact, I was the one who let him out. Perhaps it was foolish, but I was a young man once, to... ah, I remember the summer of my first mustache..." He sparkled slightly. "Besides, I went up there expecting a corpse or a raving lunatic, but he was one of the most lucid and intelligent men I'd ever met. Aside from insisting that his name was Il Palazzo, and that he was wrongfully imprisoned, he appeared to be completely sane. I'm sure he must have slept the majority of the time (as you learn to turn on and off at will after the first few centuries), but after 75 million years of solitude, the worst he had for it was a habit of talking to himself.
"That's the kind of man we're dealing with.
"In any event, he seemed quite eager to join Solarian society. Of course, this was simply the first time he attempted to implement his plan of infecting and controlling the whole world. As you know, Ropponmatsu contains the essence of the Solarian ruler; this is where they met."
'As we knaa'? Sumiyoshi echoed. Watanabe shrugged.
Kabapu shook his head sadly. "At the time, I had thought―nay, I had hoped that the tragic obliteration of Solaria was enough to stop him. Clearly, it wasn't."
"Doctor," said Misaki. "When you say, 'the tragic obliteration'... what caused that obliteration?"
"An explosion."
"And what caused the explosion?"
They shared a long, hard stare. Kabapu was the first to look away. "In any event, I trust this clarifies the matter some."
"Well, no, actually―" Shiouji began.
"Excellent. You're all dismissed for the day."
* * *
"Can I guess your name just one more time?"
"No."
"Please?"
"No."
"Pretty please?"
"Fine. But if you can't guess it, you have to sit in the corner and stop talking to me."
"Okay! I'll be sure to guess it this time! Is it... Usagi?"
"No."
"Ahiru?"
"No."
"Phoenix?"
"I'm not an animal."
"Can I buy a vowel?"
"No."
"Um... Threepwood?"
"Corner."
"B-but!"
"Now."
* * *
And so, the robot formerly known as Ropponmatsu awakened (rebooted), focused her eyes (cameras), and brushed the hair out of her face (blond). Confused, running diagnostics on strange and unfamiliar parts, she focused on the figure standing over her.
"What did you do to me?" she asked.
Il Palazzo just smiled.
Chapter 3: Exposed and Expositioned
Shiouji flew into Kabapu's window on the base of a wheeled spotlight, rolling a few feet across the carpet before making a spinning dismount. He swung the light in a graceful arc before shoving it in the Doctor's face, as harsh and unyielding as the hanging bulb in an interrogation room.
"Who is Il Palazzo?" he demanded.
Kabapu swatted the spotlight away. "I know you're upset, but there's no cause to shout."
Shiouji yanked it back into focus. "No, Doctor, I think there is absolutely, undeniably, beyond the shadow of a doubt, very much cause to shout!" His pitch rose with every syllable, and as a final dramatic gesture, he slammed his hands against the desk. Iwata's head was in one of the hands.
"Hey Doc," said Iwata.
Kabapu frowned. "Good lord, are you carrying him around with you now?"
Shiouji missed a beat. "Oh. Yes. Forgot about him. In fact, I found him on the way here. A couple of children were kicking him around like a soccer ball. I had to give them five thousand yen just to get him back. One moment; I'd best plug him in before his brain battery runs out." He shuffled to the outlet, produced an extension cord from his lab coat, and attached Iwata to the wall. When he returned, he slammed his hands back on the desk, but the moment was lost. "The GPS lost her as soon as she went into the underground, but Ropponmatsu tried to contact me shortly before the transmission cut off. It'll take me some time to triangulate the location, but you can clearly hear Il Palazzo speak―"
Kabapu choked on his coffee. "What!?"
"He didn't get to say much before the transmission cut out, but he did say that he was delighted to see her again. Again, Doctor. When did Il Palazzo ever see Ropponmatsu?"
Kabapu dabbed at his mustache with his handkerchief. "I never thought that it would come this far... but I suppose there's no reason not to tell you. No, you deserve to know. I think that the others should hear this, too." He nodded to Momochi.
Momochi opened the office door, and Watanabe and Sumiyoshi fell into the room in a heap. Only Misaki remained standing, and she even had the quick reflexes to look a little aloof, as though she had simply been walking by. They filed in, and Kabapu began.
"I told you the story of Solaria, once, and I'm sure you could have guessed there were many details I omitted. I don't want to bog you down with useless details... and I didn't want to alarm you unless it was absolutely necessary. However, it may have been that I was wrong in ignoring the very identity of the enemy we must defeat; the true face of the man who calls himself Il Palazzo."
Shiouji braced himself for the impact of this news. Yes, he had suspected the truth of Il Palazzo for some time now, but to actually have it confirmed...
"Il Palazzo is a 75-million-year-old genocidal space alien better known as Lord Xenu, former ruler of the Galactic Confederacy."
* * *
Excel woke up feeling uncharacteristically depressed. It wasn't a normal depression, either, but the kind of black, bleeding angst normally reserved for Evangelion AMVs, cutterfics, and days spent in bed eating Ben & Jerry's. Excel ran a preliminary memory check to find the cause of such a feeling, but her memory was its usual self, full of fragments and bad sectors. There being no reason for sadness, the feeling was quickly replaced with the cold terror of panic. After all, she had no idea where she was.
Immediately, she began analyzing her surroundings; white room, futon, outlets, big vents, window overlooking an empty hallway. Not a prison. Not an asylum, either; no padding on the walls. In fact, if she didn't know better, she would have said it looked like an empty laboratory.
A prison or asylum would have been more comforting.
The door was, of course, locked. In the process of trying to kick, punch, jimmy, pick, coax, cajole, scream, and bully it open, she caught the glimpse of an intercom on the wall. She pushed the button tentatively. "Hello? Anybody out there wanna talk to a pretty girl in the scary white room?" She depressed the button. Nothing. She tried it again. "Come on, I know you're out there. Isn't there somebody else you'd rather put in here? That Colonel Sanders guy from Matrix 2? A polar bear in the snow? I bet Misa-Misa would look real nice straightjacketed up in the corner."
This time, a reply came, in the form of a woman's shaky, "Hello?"
"Bongiorno, Francine Dolarhyde. You gonna let me out of here?"
"Um. I'm not supposed to."
"Why not? Who are you? What's going on? Can I call you 'Jane Gumb'?"
"A-actually, I'm not even supposed to talk to you..."
"Who are you? A guard? A temp? The maid? The mistress?" No reply. "A secretary? A nurse? A bloodthirsty serial killer?"
"I'm not a―" the voice said, and cut itself off.
"Why can't you talk to me, anyway? They afraid you're gonna spill their dirty secrets? Why, I think you're a perfectly capable nurse/maid/serial killer! I can tell by the integrity in your voice."
"I'm not a serial killer!"
"No? Am I your first? Are you gonna grind my bones to make your bread? It tastes better if you use flour. It is my body, so you should listen to my cooking recommendations! Maybe some nice steak, with a side of―"
"Kyaaaa! S-stop it!"
Yes, Excel had already decided this person to be completely useless, but hearing that made her feel better. Abandoning the intercom, she moved to the window. It was a bit higher up than she'd like, but she could definitely clear it if she could break out the glass. And she could definitely break the glass if she put her mind and foot to it.
"Hello? Are you still there?" the voice asked, but Excel ignored it. It was smashin' time.
The first kick hurt.
The first karate chop hurt much, much more.
The second kick also hurt.
The third kick hurt most of all. The glorious elation of breaking glass soured quickly upon the realization that her leg was stuck in the window. It quickly changed from smashin' time to screechin' time, and when girl came down the hall, she didn't even have a chance for relief, because she started shrieking even louder than Excel was.
Few mortals can compete with Excel's volume, however, and she quickly conquered the shouting match. "SO HELP ME, IF YOU FAINT OR SOMETHING, I WILL SERIAL KILL YOU."
The girl stopped screaming and burst into tears. "Wh-what should I―"
"GET ME OUT OF THIS PAS DE DEUX WITH THE GLASS BEFORE IT INVITES MY FEMORAL ARTERY TO BE ITS DANCE PARTNER."
"Oh! Yes! Sorry! I'll go get my nurse costume!" She turned.
"BRING THAT WORTHLESS KEISTER BACK BEFORE I KICK IT THREE WAYS INTO THE WEEK AFTER NEXT SUNDAY."
"S-sorry." She returned. "How do you want me to help you?"
"LIFT. THEN PUSH," Excel ordered through gritted teeth, trying very hard to keep her fantasies of violence to a reasonable minimum.
She did not have to curb the impulse for long; the girl's shove spent her sprawling backward onto her head, which made it hard to think of much of anything.
"A-are you okay?"
"Reunion," said Excel. "Must become one with the Planet."
"I'll get the first aid kit."
* * *
A dark cloud hung over the City Security building. No amount of bracing could have prepared anyone for Kabapu's revelation. All Shiouji could say was, "What."
"Excuse me," said Kabapu. "I assume everyone already knows the story after that ridiculous South Park episode."
"What," Shiouji repeated.
"Wait, wait," Misaki cut in. "Are you saying that you're a Scientologist?"
"No, not really. I've been running the church a bit since L. Ron died, but I'm not a particularly religious man. Do you recall the invasive and seemingly-pointless physicals you received when you were first employed here?"
Silence. They remembered.
"Those were tests of your operating thetans; the ability of your soul to take cognitive control of its surroundings. You may not look it, but all of you have tremendous spiritual potential."
"Even Watanabe?" asked Iwata from his corner.
"Even Watanabe," Kabapu confirmed.
This bizarre interlude gave Shiouji a bit of time to recover, and he managed to work up another good shout. "DOCTOR KABAPU. I am trying to be serious here! What does all this talk about Scientology have to do with anything?"
Kabapu peered up at him. "I'm surprised you don't even already know. After all, it was your father who founded it."
"I thought it was the science fiction guy," said Iwata's head while Shiouji sputtered. "Like the Star Wars guy."
"George Lucas turned down the project, sadly. He said he had already started a religion. But yes, Scientology was officially started by L. Ron Hubbard. You can't blame Tenmangu for not wanting his name connected with it, though I think he should have been a little more selective. Your mother would be able to tell you more than I could; she was more involved with it than I was."
Shiouji had nothing to say to this beyond a squeak of protest, so Kabapu went on.
"But as far as the identity of Il Palazzo, and how he knows Ropponmatsu... well, that is a story best begun at the beginning..."
* * *
Excel woke up feeling characteristically disgruntled. It was the sort of disgruntlement usually reserved for being cut off in traffic, stubbing one's toe, and having a pen jabbed into one's eye. She sat up slowly, rubbing her bandaged head, and found herself staring into the face of a nurse.
"Oh, good! You're awake! I was worried."
Excel panicked momentarily before realizing that she had not, in fact, left the lab room. "Not enough to take me to the hospital, clearly," she grumbled, though she was desperately relieved.
"I'm really sorry... I was so scared, I forgot to move the keys into the pocket of my nurse uniform, so now we're both trapped in here."
"Tell me, Nurse Tatase, what are your feeling on woodchippers, and the falling into thereof?"
"My name is Umi," she replied. "Umi Rengaya. It's a pleasure to meet you!" She bowed in a way not meant for her outfit, or perhaps exactly meant for her outfit.
"I'd beat you senseless, Umi Rengaya, but I'm all woozy, what with all the blood being out rather than in." She peered down at her leg, half-expecting it not to be there. To her surprise, she found it neatly bandaged. "Did you do this?"
"I cosplayed Rei Ayanami once," Umi replied, beaming.
"This doesn't have some macabre punchline like you forgot to take the glass out, does it?"
"Oh, no! You did that yourself! Don't you remember? You kept drawing stars in the air and calling for the power of somebody named Satan. Who's Satan?"
"Okay," said Excel. "Too much information. Don't care anymore. Moving on, you gonna let ol' 24601 know what's going on here?"
"I really wish I could, but I don't know myself. The Professor just said not to bother you."
"What did the Skipper and Mary Ann say?"
"Who?"
"Right. Cutting back on the sitting-down stand-up. What professor?"
"Professor Shiouji."
"Professor Shiouji," Excel echoed. "That sounds familiar, in an unfamiliar sort of way. Who's he work for? The government? The yakuza? The pope?"
"I guess he works for the government. What's your name?"
"Don't know," replied Excel, quickly, effortlessly, as one who had been detained on multiple occasions.
Umi gasped. "R-really? Could it be that you have... amnesia?"
"Sure," said Excel. "Why not."
* * *
"75 million years ago... the universe was in crisis! (Though you must excuse me if I'm a little fuzzy on the details; this was before even my time.) The issue was overpopulation, that the people had expanded beyond their space and resources. It was a bad situation to come into, politically speaking, but Xenu was a young man, then. Ambitious. And he had a plan.
"Well, whatever else you can say about him, Xenu solved the population problem. He summoned all of what he called the 'B' class of society; people who were neither leaders nor workers; middle-managers, hairdressers, telephone sanitizers, and the like."
"Telephone sanitizers?" interrupted Iwata.
"Ah, that's a euphemism for toilet cleaners," Kabapu explained. "He always did have some strange grudge against toilet cleaners... anyway, he rounded them up and put them in golden DC-8 space-planes. The space-planes were sent to the planet Teegeeack, which was later renamed to Earth by the Solarian PR department. He dumped them around the bases of volcanoes, blew off some hydrogen bombs, and brainwashed their souls into thinking they belonged here. Next thing you know, we have this beautiful planet.
"Now, Xenu never believed himself to be at fault in this venture. As far as he was concerned, he did the correct, noble thing. He expected to be regailed with applause, but they sent him to Earth as a punishment. Locked him up in a mountain, which is what you did with criminals back in the day. As far as most of the universe knows, he's still there."
"After 75 million years," said Misaki.
"Oh, yes, I almost forgot; Il Palazzo's body is populated with bionic super-nanomachines that make him immortal and indestructable. It was all the rage back then; hence the overpopulation. This isn't a fragile immortality, like vampires or Highlanders, but a durable immortality. He wasn't dinking around with the volcanoes just for giggles." Kabapu sighed. "He'd be able to regenerate from even a single cell! And if we can't stop him, he's likely to infect the rest of the world!"
The introduction of robotics into the story perked Shiouji's interest. "So what you're saying is, Il Palazzo's overtechnology that can destroy the world, as you so blithely put it, is actually the medical implementation of nanotechnology?"
"My word, no. The nanomachines are serious enough on their own, if he is able to replicate the ones already in his possession, but the true danger lies with the overtechnology we must stop him from getting: the computer powerful enough to control these nanomachines. My associates... my friends... if we allow Il Palazzo to complete his final plan, he will play the world like a bad game of Sims!" The sound of thunder in the distance.
A moment of stunned silence. Finally, Shiouji said, "I'm sure that someone might find that all very interesting, but what does it have to do with Ropponmatsu?"
"I'm getting there," said Kabapu, deflating slightly. "Would you like to hear the story or not?"
Shiouji considered this very seriously. He was not entirely sure he did. Kabapu mistook his silence as assent, and continued.
"Xenu remained in that cell until 20,000 years ago. In fact, I was the one who let him out. Perhaps it was foolish, but I was a young man once, to... ah, I remember the summer of my first mustache..." He sparkled slightly. "Besides, I went up there expecting a corpse or a raving lunatic, but he was one of the most lucid and intelligent men I'd ever met. Aside from insisting that his name was Il Palazzo, and that he was wrongfully imprisoned, he appeared to be completely sane. I'm sure he must have slept the majority of the time (as you learn to turn on and off at will after the first few centuries), but after 75 million years of solitude, the worst he had for it was a habit of talking to himself.
"That's the kind of man we're dealing with.
"In any event, he seemed quite eager to join Solarian society. Of course, this was simply the first time he attempted to implement his plan of infecting and controlling the whole world. As you know, Ropponmatsu contains the essence of the Solarian ruler; this is where they met."
'As we knaa'? Sumiyoshi echoed. Watanabe shrugged.
Kabapu shook his head sadly. "At the time, I had thought―nay, I had hoped that the tragic obliteration of Solaria was enough to stop him. Clearly, it wasn't."
"Doctor," said Misaki. "When you say, 'the tragic obliteration'... what caused that obliteration?"
"An explosion."
"And what caused the explosion?"
They shared a long, hard stare. Kabapu was the first to look away. "In any event, I trust this clarifies the matter some."
"Well, no, actually―" Shiouji began.
"Excellent. You're all dismissed for the day."
* * *
"Can I guess your name just one more time?"
"No."
"Please?"
"No."
"Pretty please?"
"Fine. But if you can't guess it, you have to sit in the corner and stop talking to me."
"Okay! I'll be sure to guess it this time! Is it... Usagi?"
"No."
"Ahiru?"
"No."
"Phoenix?"
"I'm not an animal."
"Can I buy a vowel?"
"No."
"Um... Threepwood?"
"Corner."
"B-but!"
"Now."
* * *
And so, the robot formerly known as Ropponmatsu awakened (rebooted), focused her eyes (cameras), and brushed the hair out of her face (blond). Confused, running diagnostics on strange and unfamiliar parts, she focused on the figure standing over her.
"What did you do to me?" she asked.
Il Palazzo just smiled.