Archive of Our Own

Kouryuu opened his eyes, the dark room gradually coming into focus. Something was off, other than the annoying sound of his unwanted guest snuffling quietly in his sleep. He concentrated and realised what it was: while his earlier dreams had been permeated by the sound of adult laughter, that had now stopped. It had been galling when he went to bed to think that Master Koumyou could find anything that creepy Ukoku Sanzo said funny enough to laugh at, but when he'd eavesdropped at first they'd been gossiping about people he didn't know, telling each other silly stories about monks they had met in the past. That was harmless enough even if Ukoku Sanzo had wished both him and his own weird little disciple sweet dreams and then blown them a kiss. Gross. Master Koumyou had clearly said they would be up talking until dawn, because they didn't see each other as often as they'd like.

Now there was nothing but silence. What had happened? Kouryuu slipped from his bed, crept across the floor - carefully avoiding the mattress where Ukoku Sanzo's disciple was curled up like an oversized kitten - and crept out the door.

It had only been a month since he'd been given a room of his own. He vacillated between pride and the proof of his advancing maturity and a homesick childish wish for the familiarity of Master Koumyou's quarters. The new building was just a stone's throw from Master Koumyou's residence, at least.

In his thin under-tunic and sandals, he silently walked the few short dark yards towards the porch where he had left his master. To his horror he saw him slumped unconscious – please, only unconscious – against one of the porch pillars. Before he could cry out, Master Koumyou shifted slightly and Kouryuu nearly wept with relief. Asleep. His master was asleep. He stepped closer and froze. Ukoku Sanzo was also asleep, lying half in his master's lap, his glasses askew and a thin trail of drool hanging from his mouth. Ugh. Four empty wine jars lay on their sides behind them. Ukoku Sanzo had got his master drunk! Master Koumyou never drank more than a cup of wine by himself and was helpless before such depravity!

Mouth set in a thin line, Kouryuu slipped into the house and collected a blanket from the bed. He wanted to wake his master and make him lie down properly but that would mean waking Ukoku Sanzo too and the creep would probably want to drink more wine. Poor Master Koumyou would not know how to refuse his guest. He stealthily draped the blanket over his master as much as possible while trying to leave Ukoku Sanzo to freeze.

"Look at them!" a clear voice said.

Kouryuu stiffened then spun around to glare at his guest who stood there, his doll in his arms.

"Shh!" he hissed. "Not so loud!"

"Look how cute my master looks," the little weirdo said, like that was a normal thing to say.

"Go back to bed!"

"I should roll that up for him."

With a practiced move that Kouryuu only thought about later, the little weirdo eased the Muten Sutra from his master's shoulders.

"What are you doing?" Kouryuu said, appalled.

"Being tidy." The little weirdo looked at the sutra in his hands impishly. "I'm going to be the Muten Sanzo someday!"

He slung it around his shoulders. Kouryuu gasped at the, the… audacity.

"Take that off!"

"Sha'n't! It suits me!"

He twirled, the ends of the sutra floating out. Kouryuu grabbed at it and the brat backed away.

"Get your own! You'll be the Seiten Sanzo, won't you? Try it on!"

"I will not!"

"Wha-a?" Master Koumyou said. Ukoku Sanzo burrowed deeper into his lap, muttering incoherently.

"Shh," Kouryuu whispered. Blessed Kanzeon and all the gods. This was bad. He assumed his most reasonable expression, the one Master Koumyou had assured him wasn't very fearsome at all. "Look, you've had your fun, just put it back and we can go back to bed."

"But I'm awake now," the brat pouted. "I can read what this says, do you want to hear?" He began to sound out the words of the Muten Sutra, showing it to his doll as he spoke.

Ukoku Sanzo stirred uneasily, then wrapped an arm about Master Koumyou and seemed to settle down once more.

"Stop that! It's disrespectful!" Kouryuu said as loudly as he dared.

The brat danced around, now chanting the words to the tune of a sugary pop song. Quick as an annoying little fish he darted in and seized the end of the Seiten Sutra, skipping away still chanting with Master Koumyou's sutra trailing in the air behind him like a holy ribbon.

Kouryuu shrieked, then clapped a hand over his mouth.

"Kouryuu?" Master Koumyou mumbled.

"S'only me," Ukoku Sanzo slurred, working his way under the blanket.

Ugh. Gross. Kouryuu sprinted after the sutra snatcher who was now giggling at the edge of the lawn, spinning around in the moonlight like a complete idiot. Kouryuu had seen novices caned for misbehaving but had never been subject to such a punishment himself. He'd deserve it for this. He was older and more sensible: it was his responsibility to stop this nonsense.

"I can read yours too!" the brat squeaked.

"You can't!"

"Can too!"

To Kouryuu's horror the little brat brought the Seiten Sutra close to his stupid bandaged face and stumbled through it.

"Told you!" he cried, avoiding a snatch at the sutra. He stuck his tongue out and shrieked out the words of the Muten Sutra going straight into the Seiten without pausing. Kouryuu grabbed him and shook him as he triumphantly yelled out the final words.

"Kouryuu!"

"Kiddo! What the fuck?"

They froze and cautiously looked back at the porch. Their masters had struggled upright and were staring at them in disbelief. Ukoku Sanzo fumbled his glasses onto his face and erupted upwards.

"Don't you fucking move!" he yelled, and promptly fell off the porch, seemingly having forgotten he wasn't at ground level. "Shit!"

"Boys! Please put those down! They aren't toys!" Master Koumyou said, stepping down more cautiously. He tripped over Ukoku Sanzo. "Oops! Sorry, Ukoku."

Oh dear. They were still drunk.

"Oh, shitty shit-shit-shit," the brat wailed. "Fix this, Kouryuu!"

"Fix it? You're the one who took them!"

"But they're doing something weird and shiny!"

… Shiny?

Kouryuu tore his eyes from their haphazardly approaching masters and looked at the sutras. They were twining about each other, twirling in the air, leaving glowing trails in the darkness. They were beautiful.

"Oh," he said, entranced.

"So pretty," the brat said, his eye shining. He reached upwards.

"Little one, no!"

Kouryuu reached out for the pearlescent Seiten Sutra.

"Fuck it! Kouryuu! Get your damn hands off that!"

Childish hands touched silk.

There was a bright light and Kouryuu thought he heard Master Koumyou saying words he hadn't realised his master knew. Then nothing.

Kouryuu opened his eyes to bright sunlight filtered through trees. It seemed to be the light of morning, but he could not see the sun, just the light that showed he was lying on soft green moss beside a pool of water. He ached all over, as if he had been torn to shreds and put back together by someone who didn't care much about how the pieces fit. Ukoku Sanzo's disciple was lying beside him, his face blank and upturned towards the forest canopy. In what he refused to think of as panic, Kouryuu put a hand on the pale cheek and found it warm.

"Oh," the boy said brushing at his hand. "No, Mommy. I want to stay home …"

"Wake up, you baby!" Kouryuu snapped. "Where the hell are we?"

The brat went from supine to upright in a flash.

"Hands off!" he bleated. "Don't you fucking touch me!"

"What? Shut up. What the hell did you do?"

Kouryuu gestured around, getting to his own feet. His angry words died away. The woods stretched off further than he could see, straight-limbed tree after tree, with pool after pool of water between them in the verdant moss.

"Where are we?" Ukoku Sanzo's disciple said in a tiny voice. He clutched his stupid doll tightly as if it could protect him.

"I … don't know," Kouryuu said. "There isn't anywhere like this around Kinzan." He rounded on the quaking fool who had done this to them. "You! You did this with your stupidity! You just had to mess around with the sutras and now look! We're lost the gods know where and it's morning! Master Koumyou will have been looking for us all night long!"

"So will my master," the moron said.

"Fat chance! He'll want his sutra back, but he'll leave you here. He'll just get in Master Koumyou's way anyway."

"He won't leave me! And your precious Master Koumyou will be too hungover to look for us! You'd better hope a younger, stronger man like my master is searching!"

Kouryuu swallowed down the desire to slap the brat right into the pool.

"Give me my master's sutra," he ordered, holding out his hand. "I'll let you hold your master's. For now. Let's find our way out of here."

The brat pouted, but handed the Seiten over. Kouryuu rolled it up and tucked it safely into his belt. The brat followed his lead. What a scandal they'd caused! Stealing two sanzos' sutras – they'd both be cast out to wander the roads as beggars. Even Master Koumyou couldn't forgive this. He probably shouldn't say that to the brat. He looked around, up at the leaves, tried to feel the wind, then just shrugged and pointed.

"We'll go that way."

An hour later they were still walking on soft moss, between trees and around pools. There were no streams or rivers. That didn't seem right. Kouryuu looked down, checking to see if he could detect their footprints on the moss. Perhaps they were going in circles; he'd heard that could happen if you got lost, although his direction sense was good. Why was there no bird song? No sound of animals? Just their steps and the sound of Ukoku Sanzo's disciple complaining he was getting tired. How did he expect to get on in life if a short walk on level ground exhausted him?

"I'm hungry! I'm thirsty!"

"Maybe you should have stolen food instead of sutras."

"You're mean."

"And not a thief."

"I was just playing." A pause. "Kouryuu? I really am thirsty."

Kouryuu stopped and glared at him, then glared at the wood instead as it spread out endlessly about them. Fine. He grabbed the brat and dragged him to the nearest pool. The water looked clear and cool.

"Drink."

The brat hesitated.

"Master says running water is better."

"Do you see a stream? It's this or nothing."

The brat grumbled but knelt down and cupped up a handful of water. He drank thirstily then washed his face, soaking the bandage.

"Oh, that's better!"

Seeing as he hadn't dropped dead, Kouryuu had some as well. It was pleasant to rest on the moss looking into the pool. He saw a flicker of movement. Small fish: good, the water really was clean. The flicker came again and he frowned, leaning forwards. The Seiten Sutra tipped out of his belt, nearly landing in the water. With the fast reflexes of youth and training Kouryuu grabbed it before it had done more than graze the surface.

The water shone like a mirror, then it was as if he were suddenly staring through a window at a scene beneath him. A mighty city, its buildings and architecture strange to his eyes, stood in miniature, tall towers with stonework like lace, massive temples and fine manors. The walls about the city had been breached: a wide, jagged opening marring their expanse and a great army raced through the streets cutting down brightly-dressed men and women as they attempted to flee.

"Cool," the brat said, leaning on his shoulder. "How did you make it do that?"

"I didn't," Kouryuu said. "It just started by itself."

The army reached a great stronghold and a woman in armour strode out in front of the forces. She took off her helmet to reveal a stern and beautiful face, her head crowned in a mass of dark braids, and Kouryuu saw that she cried something out. No sound came through the water. The woman stood, staring up the steps at what was surely a palace and then the great doors opened. A lone figure emerged striding down with a haughty gait, her head high. She, like the soldier facing her, was tall and pale, but where the armoured woman women's hair was braided and piled up upon her head, the better to be helmeted, the newcomer's dark tresses were unbound and fell free down her back. She wore a long dress that left her arms bare and a crown of silver and diamonds upon her head. In her hand she grasped a sceptre. Kouryuu could see the women's resemblance. They were surely sisters.

The soldier gestured about her, taking in the great army, the city in the midst of being sacked, her sister standing there alone, and pointed down at her feet imperiously. Kneel, Kouryuu thought. The woman facing her threw back her head and laughed, a bitter contemptuous expression upon her coldly beautiful face, and spat a single word. Never.

The soldier nodded and drew her sword. One hundred men at her back, she ran forwards to meet her sister.

The woman on the steps raised up her bare arms and slashed down the sceptre, screaming a word in defiance. The pool's water shattered and clouded. The brat stumbled back, his face ashen. Kouryuu felt as if someone had kicked him in the heart.

"She used the Muten!" the brat squeaked. "Kouryuu, she used the Muten Sutra!"

"No, she didn't," Kouryuu snapped. "It's right there in your belt! Don't be stupid."

The water cleared and they stared down. The city was quiet; the army lay dead and twisted. The woman bent down and took her sister's sword, examined and tossed it aside. She looked around her at the devastation as the scene slowly expanded to show that all those in the city had died: invading army, defenders, civilians, beasts, all. A moment of loss crossed the woman's face, then she shrugged. All at once she looked up and her eyes met the brat's gaze. They stared at each other. It couldn't be; she couldn't really see him.

It was as if the view were close to her then and Kouryuu saw very plainly that she said, "Who art thou?"

"Stop looking at her!" he said urgently.

"Where art thou? Child, stay there, I will come to thee".

"Stop looking! Why aren't you answering me?"

"Child, I have almost found thee –"

Kouryuu wrestled the brat away from the water. He sat on the moss, blinking in confusion.

"What happened, Kouryuu?"

"Something weird. It's okay, now – shit!"

The pool shivered and a white hand, larger than a human woman's, broke the surface. Kouryuu and Ukoku Sanzo's disciple sat in stunned silence for a moment as another hand appeared and then the woman heaved herself up.

"What is this place?" she demanded, bracing her hands on the side of the pool to pull herself out. "Answer me!"

"We don't know," the brat whispered, getting to his feet. "I'm sorry, Miss."

"Thou shalt address me as Your Majesty," she said and pulled herself onto the bank. She looked about, a calculating expression on her haughty pale face and brushed her black hair back. "Which is the gateway to thy world?"

"We don't know," the brat replied, stepping back. He grabbed Kouryuu's hand. "I'm sorry… Your Majesty."

"Who the hell –" Kouryuu started.

"Run!" the brat shrieked and pulled at him.

She leapt to her feet, reaching out for them but they were already running pell-mell between the trees, their sandals leaving dents on the soft moss. Kouryuu didn't need to pull the brat along; he was running as if his life depended on it.

"Come back!" she shrieked. "Stop! I command you to stop!"

Kouryuu felt a spell drag at him but he shook it off as she screamed in fury and ran after them. His mind was awhirl. The pools were gateways to worlds? They could go home.

. . . they had no idea which was the right pool and had a sorceress on their heels. One who had killed an entire city.

The sorceress was almost upon them. Her strong hand had seized the brat by his tied-back hair; he screamed in terror, wriggling around to try and drag her arm down into biting range. Kouryuu flung himself on her, taking her by surprise when he kicked her in the side. He wasn't at all sure that Master Koumyou would approve of kicking a lady, but this seemed like an extreme situation.

In fury she let go of the brat and struck out, her far longer reach catching Kouryuu off guard.

"How dare you attack your queen! I will teach you to respect the name of Jadis of Charn!"

The backhand blow hit both of them, sending them flying. The brat picked himself up as Kouryuu got ready once more, the woman calling herself Jadis advancing on them with murder in her eyes.

"You will tell me your world, and how striplings such as you have travelled from it," she said and raised her hand again.

Before she could strike, the brat tackled Kouryuu and they both tumbled into the pool beside them, the sutras unwinding as they splashed in. Kouryuu felt that he was falling, faster and faster, and held tight to the brat, who clung to him with desperate strength.

They hit rock, hard, and looked around, stunned. Dim orange light illuminated bent, tortured figures in a chasm far below them scratching at the walls while nearby a tall, armoured statue of a demon watched over their struggles impassively. Kouryuu bit back an oath.

They were in hell.

It was another boring shift in the mines and I was very happily using my time to catch up on the latest fifty episodes of Lineages of the Sun. It wasn't my favourite show – nothing would ever displace Sanctuary Moon – but I enjoyed it and the luxurious scenery was a nice change from claustrophobic tunnels and miners accidentally burning their extremities off. I did feel sorry for humans who lasered off their fingers, but I wasn't there to protect them. I was mostly there to protect the mining company's equipment and to make sure the miners didn't damage it. I'd attract too much attention to myself if I stepped in every time to save a human who messed up. The miners weren't my clients and their incompetence was their own business. If I could pass it off as safeguarding company assets that was a different matter.

I've never liked mining colonies, and I know it was in one that . . . that . . . took place. I don't want to look at that too closely, and I can't anyway because the Company wiped my memory archives. Just as shiftily as they do everything, of course, and afterwards they decided that, why yes, SecUnits like me were just perfect for renting out as mine security again. I know something must have changed, something did happen, because the gun in my hands may be as large and as intimidating as ever, but it has Non-lethal written on it in bright orange. I'm a kinder, softer SecUnit, I guess. I mean, I still have all my own armaments, and if I shoot you a lot with my non-lethal weapon (and I can shoot impressively quickly) then you'll be non-lethally dead, but it looks good, which is all any corporation wants when the newsfeeds are pointing their way.

Right then, I was scheduled for the best duty I could possibly want: standing guard near an access tunnel to the rest of the colony, with my main concern being to stop workers from trying to leave early or stopping non-workers from entering to steal or damage equipment. No one ever did. I had deployed a couple of drones to warn me of anyone who tried, but honestly? That was purely because I can be paranoid at the best of times. Nothing at all had happened for the last seventeen hours: I could just stand there ignoring my surroundings, enjoying my show when I was rudely interrupted by two juvenile humans flickering into existence at head height and crashing down to the floor. You don't see that every day.

The young humans immediately began to berate each other in a non-standard dialect so I engaged my linguistic programs and shamelessly eavesdropped.

"Now look what you did, you little moron! We're in one of the hells!"

"Noooo! I don't want to be in hell, Kouryuu! I just want to go home! I thought the pond/lake/inland body of water would take us back to my master!"

"Why? We don't know which pond/lake/inland body of water was the correct one!" (I was definitely updating my linguistics archive.)

"Well, you're the one who made us leave it!"

"And you're the one who attracted the attention of a damn evil sorceress!"

It was reminiscent of the plot of Infinite World Adventures! an interminable children's entertainment where the protagonists were thrown from reality to reality having wild, yet age-appropriate, adventures in each. The children were chosen to represent the highest percentile of human adorability in the show of course and were winsome to a degree that made me suspect was rotting my industrial ceramic teeth. These children – male, I decided, zooming in on their features – were less oppressively sweet, although the smaller was clinging to the larger in a manner clearly designed to inculcate a sense of protectiveness. The larger child cuffed the side of his head and shoved him off. So much for that.

I wasn't used to juvenile humans although entertainment media informed me that they tended to be precocious, annoyingly winsome in an artificial manner as if played by badly-coded bots, and even more recklessly stupid than their adult counterparts. I had privately cheered when one of them met a tragic end in a drama. How had humans ever reached the stars when they had a juvenile form so ridiculous? Faced with two actual children sure they had teleported into a supernatural realm designed to punish them for eternity, I saw no reason to change my mind.

Any moment now the central system would notice them and ask what I was doing, allowing company productivity to be damaged by having workers standing around and shrieking at each other. Then it would check the last several seconds of footage and realise I had failed in my specific task and just idly watched intruders – what? Teleporting? How had they managed to fool my visual sensors in such a manner? It had to be an entertainment special effect - now that was interesting.

They were clearly simply small humans. No threat to anyone, but in the wrong area. Time to act. I broke position.

"Halt," I said. "You do not have clearance for this area. Identify yourselves."

Both stared at me, open mouthed.

"Fuck me," the larger said, his eyes wide.

The smaller fainted.

I considered heaving a sigh. Humans were so dramatic.

The demonic guardian statue abruptly moved and stepped towards them, its blank helmet angled down so that Kouryuu was quite sure the thing was looking at them.

"Halt," it said. "You do not have clearance for this area. Identify yourselves."

"Fuck me," Kouryuu said as Ukoku Sanzo's disciple made a gulping sound and slid to the floor beside him. He'd never heard of guardian statues suddenly animating except in legends.

The statue's head swivelled slightly, looking at the downed brat and back to him, then tilted a little as if the wearer didn't think merely casting its eyes to heaven was enough to signal its disapproval. A vastly amplified sigh echoed around them.

"I am reading a sudden decrease of blood pressure in your companion," the statue said. "Have either of you medical conditions for which you have insurance?"

"Insurance?" Kouryuu said. "What?"

The statue knelt smoothly, reaching a hand towards the brat. Kouryuu jumped forward, shoving it away. It moved the tiniest bit then just stopped. He felt the statue's whole attention focus on him once more.

"You are a small juvenile," the statue said.

"Master Koumyou says I'm due a growth spurt," Kouryuu said hotly.

"Identify this person, Master Koumyou. Explain why a small juvenile would feel confident in attacking a security unit."

"I didn't attack you, you moron," Kouryuu said. "I just stopped you touching my – touching him. And Master Koumyou is Koumyou Sanzo, the Thirtieth Seiten Sanzo of China."

"You are reckless and impudent," the statue said. "Your companion is smaller and injured. You are both attractive. For humans. Are you engaged in a dramatic production?"

It sounded – hopeful. Kouryuu stared at it as the brat came around, squeaked as if as if he wished he could faint again and backed up in a scramble against Kouryuu's shins.

"Did you cast the spell to make it move?" he whimpered.

"No," Kouryuu snapped. "It must be activated by a talisman."

The statue seemed to be regarding them with a wondering expression, despite its blank helmet.

"Is it a fantasy storyline?" it asked. "I find modern realism preferable. I say realism but of course allowances for dramatic license must be made."

"Stop discussing … whatever!" Kouryuu said.

"I do not have to obey civilian directives," it muttered. "I was being polite." Its demeanour became stiffer. "Neither of you has a presence on the feed. You are interlopers. This is a restricted area under license to Chururamfy Mining Corporation. It would not be against my programming to dispose of you as thieves or spies."

"Oh no!" the brat squeaked. "Statue-sama, we're just kids!"

"Then explain your materialisation without adult guardians."

"We got transported to a magical realm because this idiot stole two of the foundations of heaven and earth, and then he attracted the attention of a murderous sorceress who killed thousands of her own people and chased us and we escaped by jumping into a pool of water that dropped us into this hell realm," Kouryuu snapped. "Satisfied?"

The statue looked at him in silence. He waited in annoyed dread for what it might say next.

Since I had detected that the children had absolutely no presence on the feed I had been enjoying indulging myself and speaking rather more frankly then I usually did to humans. (As I never spoke to humans if I could avoid it this was pretty damn frank.) I still held out hope they were drama actors – they were a lot cleaner and prettier than the adult humans I had to look at and the bigger one was certainly precocious in the way he spoke while the smaller engaged in a number of actions that children in dramas did to appear helpless – clinging to his companion; opening his unbandaged eye very widely; hugging his inanimate fabric toy in the manner of a smaller juvenile; speaking in a high-pitched voice and so on. Plus, of course, there was the special effect of them appearing from thin air.

Now the bigger child glared at me in a manner I could only describe as – aggressive. It was ridiculous. He came up to my chest. I replayed his statement, and the footage of their appearance.

"You are shitting me," I said flatly.

I'd been blocking the whole area from surveillance since their arrival, wanting the novelty of suddenly appearing actors all for myself. Now I seriously considered the possibility that I had something else. Before they could react I grabbed their wrists and held them closer for a proper scan. Nothing. They really had none of the interfaces a corporation worker would have. There were no feed interfaces, no ID chips, no debt markers, nothing. They seemed in relatively good health, although the smaller had undergone relatively recent burn damage and apparently hadn't had the funds for skin grafts. Neither was at their optimum height, but that was something I had observed with humans before. No doubt their guardians' funds for food were tighter than they'd like.

Now I had a problem. What was I going to do with them, turn them in as intruders and have them report a strange conversation with a SecUnit? Unthinkable. Shove them off a high ledge?… Dramatic, but not my style. My programming wasn't aimed at arbitrarily eliminating small humans. (Not those who weren't causing an imminent threat anyway.) And I have to admit, I was intrigued by the fact of children who talked about spells and who didn't seem to know that they should be afraid of me because of what I am rather than what they thought I might be. My risk assessment module pinged. It would be sensible to send them somewhere I wouldn't have to deal with them.

Me? Sensible?

"Tell me more about this murderous sorceress," I said.

"You believe me," the child said, still glaring.

"Your heart rate did not overly increase, you did not waver in eye contact, your irritation seems the natural sort I believe is known as sibling rivalry –"

"Gross, no, we're not brothers."

"We're sort of both disciples," the smaller child piped up in a winsome tone, balancing on one foot.

"At the least, there is a ninety per cent chance that you believe it."

"Because it's true," the child snapped.

"Follow me," I said, and strode away. I looked back. They were standing where I left them, seeming irresolute. The dramas were right. Children were annoying. "Now!" I said, amplifying my voice. They ran after me, their faces expressing shock.

I brought them to a storeroom for human hygienic necessities that I had made invisible within the corporation mainframe. When I could, I liked to store myself there, totally undisturbed. The children looked at the pallets of toilet paper in confusion.

"You can sleep on them," I said. "I will bring you rations, and you will tell me about the sorceress."

"Why are you helping us, Statue-san?" the bigger child said.

"Call him sama, be politer," the smaller hissed.

Why was I helping them? I wasn't interested in guarding mining assets from mining workers. I was interested in finding out about spells and sorceresses; I had thought they only existed in non-realistic entertainment shows.

"I am not he," I said. "I am it. I'll return soon. You'll be safe in this room."

I left and went to the nearest vending machine, which was on the next administrative level up. I attracted no glances, organic or electronic, for most of the way. At my destination I dithered, thinking how it would look for a construct of any type, let alone a SecUnit, to purchase snacks. Not that I was purchasing them. It was all too easy to connect with the vending machine, a simple-minded thing, and scroll through its menu. Everything looked equally unappetising, but then I don't need to eat. I asked it to discharge two algae paste wraps and two containers of its lowest-caffeine drink (they still held almost half the medically recommended caffeine for an adult human, but such is life on a mining corporation world). I instructed the machine to forget me, collected the food and drink and headed back. A smartass administrative unit spotted me as I descended to the lower level and pinged me.

< Connection: requested >

< Not now >

< Connection: requested >

< Connection: accepted >

< What? >

< Nice snacks. Do you need recharging? >

< Fuck you >

< You too, delivery bot >

< Connection: severed >

Asshole.

The children fell on the food as if they hadn't eaten for days. After, they both bowed to me, which was a first. I didn't know how to respond to a human showing a SecUnit respect, so I ignored it.

"Explain everything," I said. They looked at each other. The smaller one went pink, which according to the dramas, was an indicator of embarrassment.

"I was just playing," he said. "I didn't mean to teleport us."

"He's an idiot," the bigger one explained.

"I'm not!"

"Are so!"

It was the usual unproductive human nonsense, but I had no obligation to listen to it. What a wonderful thing.

"Stop," I said. "Just the relevant details. Begin with your names."

"I'm Kouryuu," the larger juvenile said. "This moron is too stupid to have a name."

"I'm not too stupid!"

"Your name?"

" . . . I don't have one."

"I see. Proceed to the rest of the relevant details."

Still glaring at each other they recounted a narrative I thought wouldn't pass muster even for one of the less realistic shows I've downloaded.

"So after you stole the ancient relic safeguarded by the magic-wielding religious specialist who is your legal guardian -" I said.

"And one of my master's two," the bigger juvenile butted in.

"You activated them by accident?"

"I sort of knew the words," the smaller one mumbled. "Master says I have potential."

"My master says you're a poor unfortunate. That means he thinks you're a moron."

I sighed. It was surprisingly satisfying. I could see why supervisors did it when infuriated by inept workers.

"Let's go back to the female magical specialist. Two meters tall?"

"Seven foot," they agreed.

Some sort of augmented human no doubt, if I was to believe their story. They believed it, that was clear. I allowed myself to indulge for 4.4 of a second (it's longer for me than for a human) in the thought of a world of sorceresses and religious specialists who were the heaven-appointed guardians of ancient powerful relics. It really was like an episode of Infinite World Adventures! Only a little more realistic. That show really has narrative issues.

I came back to reality. I had concealed two juvenile humans with no interfaces, no feed presence or any records that I could find (not helped by the smaller one's claim to be undesignated by any name and the bigger claiming that neither he or his guardian had family designations, his guardian having renounced such worldly fripperies) and I didn't know what to do with them.

"Do you have additional guardians? Who are your guardians' primary and secondary spouses?"

"They're not married," the bigger juvenile said. "Monks don't marry."

Children with no adults to support them. If I did as I should and brought them to the authorities, they would be indentured to pay off the debt that would be incurred by housing and educating them to a minimal standard. They would mine this colony until their early death in an industrial accident.

In all my shows humans put extra effort into saving the juvenile characters. It hadn't ever made sense to me, but these juveniles spoke to me as if I were human (I didn't really like that) and didn't seem afraid of me any longer now that I had given them a room and food (I found that… interesting). Humans usually looked at SecUnits with suspicion or dread, or like we were particularly murderous pieces of furniture. No one had ever considered me to be a magical statue worthy of a conversation before.

Kouryuu sat back, looking at the guardian statue warily. It hadn't threatened them, but the storeroom was a good place for locking kids up. And who the hell needed so much toilet paper? He looked at the brat, still hoovering up crumbs from the food they've been given. Hell probably didn't even have toilet paper. It was an argument for them being somewhere marginally safer.

"Statue-san," he said, "can you help us out?" He hated asking for help, it was damn undignified. But the statue was at least not malevolent and probably counted as some sort of adult. Maybe even a competent one, although they were rare in Kouryuu's experience.

"You should address me as SecUnit."

"SecUnit-san –"

"Honourifics are unnecessary."

Kouryuu gave the statue his straightest glare.

"I've been brought up to be fucking polite," he said.

"So I see," the statue said.

Kouryuu paused. He wondered how Master Koumyou would handle a sarcastic magical guardian statue. With kindness, no doubt.

"My master will be very grateful to you for helping me get home," he said more politely.

"Mine too!"

"His, maybe. Mine, definitely."

"Tell me about your supervisors - your guardians," the statue said.

"Master Koumyou bears the Seiten and the Maten Sutras," Kouryuu said, wrestling with pride. Master Koumyou was so humble, and wouldn't want him to boast, but he was the best sanzo in all of history! He longed to make the statue know that.

"My master is the Muten Sanzo!"

"His master is Ukoku Sanzo. He's a creep."

"He isn't!"

"He looked at my legs! And said I'm as pretty as a girl!"

"Statue-sama –"

"SecUnit."

"SecUnit-sama, Kouryuu's making stuff up! My master is kind and lovely and handsome and clever and younger than his! That's why he's jealous of me."

"Jealous? Of you holding hands with Creepozoid Sanzo? Fat chance."

The statue sighed wearily, just like Master Koumyou had when Kouryuu had argued with the brat in front of him.

"This is unproductive behaviour," it said. "Please stop. What does bearing the Seiten and Maten Sutras mean?"

"They're the Foundation sutras of Heaven and Earth," Kouryuu said. "It's what a sanzo does: they guard them and they help people."

"My master says people who need help are idiots."

"I told you he's a creep."

"Enough!"

Kouryuu and the brat both flinched at the volume in the statue's voice. It hadn't moved at all, like a human would if he had needed to draw breath to shout. Of course not. It was a statue. Kouryuu had the distinct impression that it was starting a headache.

"Explain the origin and function of these sutras further."

"The gods made them," Kouryuu said, his eyes wide despite himself. "The Foundation Scroll of Heaven and Earth was torn into five pieces and given to the first sanzos to guard, so that rebel deities couldn't try to remake the cosmos."

The statue sat there in silence for some seconds.

"These relics can remake the cosmos?" it said. "And they were given to humans for safeguarding?"

The disbelief in its voice was frankly insulting. Kouryuu glowered in fury at the thought of anyone being so disrespectful to his master.

"Master Koumyou could keep all of them safe at once! But that's not allowed. They have to be kept apart so that no one can try to put them back together. It's very rare for a sanzo to bear two at the same time; my master's special."

"He's right," the brat said earnestly. "My master told me he's never met anyone as special as Koumyou Sanzo!"

Huh. Maybe Ukoku Sanzo wasn't completely bad.

"This technology must be highly sought after."

"Yeah?" Kouryuu said. "There's a hell of a lot of training to be a sanzo. My master was the youngest sanzo ever - until his. He says his training was the worst experience of his life." He shrugged. "He also says getting up in winter is the worst experience of his life." A wave of sadness overcame him. He wanted to be sitting by Master Koumyou so much, to hear his voice, to have him draw his attention to birds, or a weed or to the way the wind made the leaves move. He looked at the ground, willing his eyes to stay dry.

"My master says his training was a piece of piss! He killed all his friends and his teacher! He really liked his teacher."

"Why did he kill them?"

" . . . I . . . suppose he had to?"

Kouryuu looked sidelong at the brat, who was gnawing on his doll's arm, a vaguely worried expression on his face.

"The medical aid you have received is extremely rudimentary. Why hasn't he authorised skin grafts for your disfigurement?"

The brat went scarlet and hid his face completely behind the doll. "He says I'm pretty," he whispered.

Gross.

"That's rude," Kouryuu said. "Don't make personal comments." He'd ask what a skin graft was when the brat couldn't hear.

The statue said nothing. Then it turned towards the door.

"I must return to my position. I will bring more rations later. Do not leave this room for any reason."

"Hold on," Kouryuu said, and the blank helmet turned his way. "How do we know you'll come back?"

"I will. But the longer I'm away from my position, the more chance an unpredictable observer will notice."

"Huh?"

"A human. Stay here. I'll be back."

The door slid open in a weird way Kouryuu couldn't work out and closed again behind it. He paced back and forth, trying to burn off a little energy.

"Kouryuu?"

"What?"

"Why do you think my master killed his friends and teacher?"

"Huh?" He's a weird mean bastard didn't seem like a helpful thing to say, given the expression on the brat's face. Kouryuu shrugged. "Master Koumyou told me Goudai Sanzo set up a big fight as the test for winning the Muten." The worried look didn't leave the brat's face. Kouryuu thought back, remembering how when he'd pictured it, the fight had been like a competition between the Kinzan monks, with everyone bowing to each other at the end. He hadn't thought about it for a long time, not since he'd stopped worrying that Master Koumyou would vanish again. "I guess . . . it must have been a really dangerous fight."

"Yes," the brat said. "That must be it." He smiled, a wide sunny smile that seemed to only touch his lips. "Because he liked Goudai Sanzo! He says so!"

"There you go, then."

Master Koumyou had been Goudai Sanzo's best friend. He wouldn't have let Ukoku Sanzo kill him. Something must have gone wrong in the fight. Kouryuu chewed his lip. That made sense. It had been an accident; even a weirdo like Ukoku Sanzo . . . He wished he wasn't thinking about it. He didn't want Master Koumyou to be left alone with him.

"I want to get a look at the talisman activating the statue," he said, to distract himself. "I bet Shuuei would like to know it."

"My master says you're rude not to say Master Shuuei."

"Your master can fuck himself sideways -"

The brat pelted him with rolls of toilet paper.

I observed the juveniles as I walked back to my position, feeling my internal equilibrium drop an entire three percent as they almost immediately started bickering again. What had I got myself into? And what the hell was a talisman? The epic battle of the toilet paper was moderately amusing: I wouldn't have expected small children to have such good aim or to be able to perform such acrobatic feats in the case of Kouryuu. It was almost as good as a second-rate episode of Medcenter Argala, maybe the one where the station power malfunctioned and everyone's nervous system was forced into a dance routine for most of the episode. (Even I felt that delicate brain surgery while tap dancing was a step too far for the vaunted med-research team of writers. A step too far. A step - Forget it.)

No one had noticed my absence, or if they had, had cared. I resumed watching my show while pretending to observe the workers. Finally the sirens sounded for shift change. I had (theoretically) been standing there for twenty hours, and really should go to flush my organic components of toxic build-ups. I could go longer, of course, and often had, for cheapskate clients, but mining equipment is expensive and no one wanted a SecUnit to be dozing on the job. (Especially the SecUnit who might get rendered down for parts.) The long and the short of it was, I could go and plug myself in. I'm kidding. We don't plug ourselves in. My relief approached, looking as thrilled as me for the next shift, pinging me as it approached.

< Connection: requested >

< Connection: accepted >

< Situation update: requested >

< Situation: optimal >

< Connection: severed >

What can I say? We're not naturally chatty.

It took up position and I walked off in the direction it had come, doing the SecUnit equivalent of whistling innocently (looking straight ahead and remaining absolutely silent) until I was out of sight, at which point I told the cameras not to see me and diverted to a level with vending machines. I loaded up with algae-wraps and caffeine drinks (although the toilet paper battle probably showed those were a bad idea) and marched off, instructing the cameras along the way to forget they had ever seen a SecUnit doing a grocery run.

I was going to help the juveniles, I already knew. I'd known for some time. The combination of winsome prettiness and impudence obviously worked on SecUnits as well as humans. It was the sort of thing a hero in a drama would do. That was a very dangerous thought; humans could notice a heroic bot, and there were only two categories of SecUnits. Obedient, silent units and rogues.

I'd thought about that more than once, of course. Rogue SecUnits were a staple in dramas, usually very unrealistic ones. I didn't have any desire to yell Kill! All! Humans! while firing wildly and missing everything and everyone. (I refuse to - and can't - look at the damaged memory archive of . . . that . . . I'm pretty sure I was silent throughout, anyway.) It was absolutely embarrassing how rogue SecUnits in dramas never hit their targets. I wish I could show my fellow SecUnits an episode or two of Valorous Defenders to see if they cringe as much as I do. (We'd all be melted down for watching it.)

The juveniles had created a defensive structure from toilet paper pallets, with crenellations of rolls adorning the top. I already knew this, of course, but pretended to be surprised.

"You have been putting your time to good use."

Perhaps my surprise is not quite as enthusiastic as that of a human.

The smaller undesignated juvenile's toy peeked over the top of the wall. It had no cameras installed in its button eyes, so was purely for show.

"Who goes there?" the toy said in a squeaky feminine voice.

That sound definitely came from the toy. I scanned it again suspiciously. It was constructed of cloth and foam. However, there was a faint energy reading I could not decipher.

"SecUnit," I said. "I can see you both up there. Come down."

Two smallish human heads popped up, easy targets. Kill! All! Humans! I thought irrelevantly. (And they say SecUnits have no sense of humour.) The children descended from their perch with more ease than most adults and stood by me, looking up fearlessly. It made me feel very odd.

"Why did your toy speak to me?" I said to the undesignated child.

"It's just a little spell," he said. "Master thought it was funny when I did it! I like her to talk back to me sometimes."

"Baby," Kouryuu muttered.

"Halt," I said before the bickering could resume. "I have brought rations." They began to eat once again as if they had never seen food before. I had seen adult mine workers do likewise. Corporations rarely supply enough to keep their workers sated.

I had been rented to many different groups of clients, and had kept them (mostly) alive. Despite what the dramas tell people, that's what SecUnits want: living clients. It doesn't exactly make us feel warm and fuzzy, but it certainly stops the governor module punishing us with excruciating pain. Even with my governor module disabled I wanted living clients. I'm just a warm and fuzzy being at internal power source. I sorted through as many episodes of shows featuring children as I could, discarding those scenes which were overly tragic or whimsical, and selected a suitable set of phrases.

"Boys, I'll get you home, you needn't be afraid any longer. Just do as I say, and together we'll defeat the -" Well, not the plague of alien bugs, that was for sure. That had been a really disgusting episode and everyone had ended up eaten. " - wicked sorceress."

"Thank you, SecUnit-sama!" the undesignated child cried and flung his arms around me. It was very alarming. I had no idea what to do.

"Are you quoting something?" Kouryuu said suspiciously. "You sound like you're quoting something."

"No," I said, not sounding convincing even to myself. I tried to extricate myself from the childish embrace without snapping off his arms. Ugh. How did human parents bear it? "Go over the details again, I wish to see if you have remembered anything else."

There are those who'll tell you that if you are going into really unexpected situations what you need is an up-to-the-minute model SecUnit, or even better, a CombatUnit. Those people will usually be a Company salesperson trying to upsell you on the mandatory security contract you probably didn't want in the first place and that you'll cheap out on, looking for the older model that seems to promise the most violence for the least money. (Me.) What I think (doesn't matter, who am I kidding) is that as long as you actually manage to provide your SecUnit with a decent briefing package, you'll be fine. Decent briefing packages cost extra.

The juvenile Kouryuu and his undesignated companion had no idea of holding information back, and spoke over each other in their determination to give me every last fraction of knowledge they possessed about the terrain and the enemy we would face. It's very annoying when humans speak over each other; I have to pay attention to all their voices and their stupid suggestions, and need to separate them into distinct audio tracks, and higher-pitched juvenile voices went right through my audio-processors. I considered their previous obedience when I had asked only for relevant details and a dizzying realisation struck me: no matter how often I had explained to them, both juveniles appeared to react to me as an adult with authority of some kind. I also had no contractual obligation to either of them. I could just -

I held up a hand.

"One at a time."

They instantly shut up and looked at me quietly. The universe readjusted itself about me. The little undesignated juvenile poked Kouryuu.

"You say."

"Quit that! It's like I've been saying, SecUnit-san, this twit fell into a trance and the sorceress latched onto him from her world after she killed everyone -"

"Everything!" the smaller one said, and fell silent as we both glared at him.

"He's right," Kouryuu said grudgingly. "There were dead animals and birds scattered in the streets too. It was a spell of terrible power. Maybe something like the Muten Sutra - didn't you think you felt her through it?"

"I think so," the smaller one said. "I wish I'd never taken it! I didn't understand how bad it was, I'm just a little boy!" His face screwed up in the way that meant an emotional overload. No. Oh no. How did the adult characters in dramas cure crying in a child? Did it work in real life?

"Just ignore him," Kouryuu said in disgust as I stared in frozen horror. Actual perfect crystalline tears were coursing down his face. I was sure those had to be added in during post-production; how could humans express their messy emotions so prettily? "He just does that sort of thing for effect." The undesignated juvenile stopped crying, scowled in an extremely unpretty way and hit Kouryuu who whacked him back.

"Enough!" I said, amplifying my voice ten percent. They settled down. "Are you sure you didn't see the sorceress employ a weapon? Perhaps a concealed bio-weapon of some kind?"

"She just spoke a spell," Kouryuu said. "It had to be a spell; everything just died."

"It could have been a verbally operated weapon," I said. "And then she entered the area where you were?"

"After a while. It was like we were looking down on the city from high above, then she called him, and she said she was coming. He just stood there, looking stupider than usual."

"I don't remember that bit," the smaller juvenile said grumpily.

"I thought I'd broken the contact," Kouryuu said. "I pushed him away from the pool of water. Then she climbed out of the pool and chased us!"

"She wanted to know which pool led to our world," the smaller one said, "but we don't even know that because someone -" He looked meaningfully at Kouryuu. " - said we should explore."

"How was I supposed to know they led anywhere? She almost caught us and - I suppose it was a good idea, all right? - he shoved me and the sutras activated and we fell through the pool that led here."

I replayed their entrance and the words they had yelled at each other. Huh. For children apparently from another world their view of their surroundings was not substantially different to that of the humans who actually worked here.

"Why did you consider this place to be a supernatural realm designed for torture and punishment?"

"It looked like Hell," the smaller one said in the chipper way the cutest child actor from Business Buddies: Learning Together spoke when she was being coached in corporate values, like when to wave your friends off to the labour pool. (I know it's a kids' show, all right? I downloaded it in a packet with others and it's short. It fits into moments when I don't have time for Sanctuary Moon.)

I reviewed the footage of their appearance yet again. This time I paid closer attention to the ceiling and saw it shimmer like water. Interesting.

"Activate your masters' technology," I said. "I want to see if we can exit from this location."

"Now?" Kouryuu said.

"Yes," I said. So according to best practice I needed to flush my organic components. So what? I was, as the SecUnits liked to say on Valorous Defenders operating at optimum capacity (we never say that). In other words, I wouldn't actually fall over for at least another twenty hours. Probably another forty if I took things easy. I'm very durable. That was plenty of time to neutralise a sorceress, transport lost juvenile humans across dimensions and return in time to download some more episodes of the terrible media available in this colony. It would be like that episode in the nineteenth season of Timestream Defenders Orion when the security captain had exactly one hour to defeat the clones of himself from the future and the past and shift the ship carrying vital medical supplies into an alternate, safe time stream. Only more realistic.

The children unrolled their pieces of fabric and read from them in a stilted, rhythmic fashion. It was a slightly different dialect than the one in which they spoke, and took a few seconds for me to find the correct file to decipher. They appeared to be reading philosophical treatises on the nature of reality. When they finished they looked at their texts in expectation, as did I. Nothing happened.

"Maybe I have to read them both?" the smaller juvenile said. "I read them both before."

"Maybe you have to dance around like a drunken chimp," Kouryuu said. "You did that too. You aren't getting your paws on the Seiten again!"

"Perhaps," I said, forestalling the inevitable argument, "you need to activate them in the area in which you appeared." I accessed the room's subsystem and projected the footage of their appearance onto the wall; they gaped at it, at me, and back at it. Kouryuu wonderingly put his hand against the wall, then his expression indicated a mental breakthrough. I hated that. It meant a human was going to put themself in danger. I automatically scanned the room, assuring myself that the only danger was (a) being buried in toilet paper or (b) me.

"This room is made of this weird stuff!"

"Extruded plastic," I said.

"Maybe we need to be in a place with real things! Like rock!"

Typical human thoughtlessness. Some of us consider extruded plastic, reinforced ceramics and organi-steel to be perfectly real, thank you. I considered the upcoming schedule: I would be disregarded by humans for four hours (mostly because it was the higher-ranked supervisors' night) but would then be expected to guard in another location, depressingly in sight of the office of a supervisor even more petty-minded than most. She insisted on her office being guarded at all times, and liked to emerge from her lair (like some sort of fire-breathing alien lizard) to check her status-symbol personal guard was still in place. Sometimes she'd come down and rap on the poor SecUnit on duty's helmet while enquiring, Is this thing on? Trust me, even Units with perfectly functioning governor modules might feel just a little murderous after a shift at the bottom of her stairs. It was why no SecUnit got that duty twice in a row. ( . . . forget I said that. Obviously, non-rogue SecUnits don't have the free will to organise that sort of thing. Obviously.) The point was, if I was going to move the children, it should be at the current moment.

"Follow me," I said.

"Now?" the undesignated child said.

"Do you have something better to do?" Kouryuu said.

I tried the effect of a weary, sarcastic look at them. It probably would have worked better without the helmet.

"Consider me in the place of one of your magical religious specialist guardians," I said. "My very word is law."

"Yes, Master SecUnit-sama," the undesignated juvenile chirped. He really was appallingly cute. I felt my skin itch all over.

Kouryuu saluted in a way that said, I'm the rude child on the cast who must be won over in a heroic action scene.

It was a good job I'd watched literally hundreds of action scenes. And been in dozens of my own.

There were fewer people in the corridors as the guardian statue strode along, its helmeted head facing firmly ahead. Kouryuu and Ukoku Sanzo's disciple walked fast to keep up with its longer legs. A yawning man stared at them, his eyes tracking to the statue and flicking back to them. He looked like he was whispering to himself, and Kouryuu braced himself, hoping he wasn't casting a spell. Nothing happened, other than the man looking very confused.

"SecUnit-san," Kouryuu whispered. "That man -"

"I have attended to the matter. His feed is blocked. Be quiet; humans do not converse with SecUnits."

Kouryuu had opinions about being told to shut up, but if the statue was serious about being obeyed as if it were Master Koumyou - He glowered at its back. Quietly.

They came to a door and the statue stood there, just looking at it. The door slid open, revealing a small room and the statue entered, standing facing the back wall. Kouryuu and the brat hesitated. The statue sighed.

"In."

They hurried in and the door closed. The room immediately fell; they grabbed each other in surprise.

"There were too many other humans present earlier to be inconspicuous in taking an elevator set aside for human use. This is faster than the stairs."

"Eeek!" the brat whimpered.

Kouryuu knew how he felt, but was determined to hold on to as much of his twelve-year-old dignity as possible. He stopped clinging to the brat. He'd die like a man.

The room came to a halt and the door opened. The statue spun around and walked out. They had survived.

"Oh, thank you, Kanzeon!" the brat whispered and crept out in its wake.

Kouryuu put his shoulders back and followed. Maybe this was hell after all.

After some more turns they were at a grimy corridor leading towards a dark, dimly lit opening. The statue paused.

"You should stay at the intersection ahead," it said. "I will convince the SecUnit on duty to leave its post."

"Don't leave us alone!" the brat squeaked.

Kouryuu pulled him along. "We're meant to obey like we're listening to Master Koumyou," he said.

"I don't want to obey your silly Master Koumyou! Ow! Why'd you hit me?"

"Don't call Master Koumyou silly."

"Count to one thousand," the statue said. "I will return for you by then." It strode away, faster than they could walk.

Kouryuu seized the brat's arm and towed him to the intersection where they watched the statue reach the end of the corridor, turn sharply to the right and stop dead. It stood there for a couple of seconds, then walked out of sight. Kouryuu looked at the brat and understanding flickered between them. They sprinted down to the end of the corridor. All at once a bolt of bright light seared across the entrance of the corridor, followed by another, and the sound of bangs like fire-crackers.

"All workers! Take cover! Rogue SecUnit present!" a voice similar to the statue's said. It sounded calm, for all it was horribly loud, loud enough to make Kouryuu and the brat cover their ears.

There were more crackling sounds like lightning striking, several loud bangs and then the statue flew across their field of vision like someone had flung it, and vanished silently below the precipice.

"Shit," Kouryuu said, breathing fast.

"What do we do? Kouryuu, what do we do?"

"Ah . . . Get - get the Muten Sutra out."

"What? Really?"

"Do you have anything else that might work against something that could do that to the statue?" He fumbled the Seiten out, his fingers shaking, and managed to turn it the right way up. What was that spell that called lightning? Who had cast it?

"Children!"

They paused, looking from each other's shocked faces to the darkness at the end of the corridor.

"Kouryuu! Smaller child! Hurry!"

It was the statue. Kouryuu grabbed the brat's hand and they ran into the dark. The statue was standing fifty feet up the ledge, looking back and forth. It beckoned, and its voice, magnified a hundred-fold, rang out.

"All workers: threat has been neutralised. I repeat. The threat has been neutralised. You may resume your duties."

There were scorch marks on the statue's armour and a small swarm of bees or flies hovered about it. Kouryuu looked closer: they were metal bees.

"We have little time," the statue said. "I wasn't very successful. The SecUnit didn't even allow me to attempt to persuade it before opening fire."

"Are you in trouble?" Kouryuu said. The helmet turned down towards him.

"A rogue SecUnit was reported," the statue said at last. "A SecUnit has been killed. As I am calmly speaking with civilians, I must not be the rogue." It looked upwards. "You dropped from that spot, six metres overhead. I can detect an unusual energy residue."

Kouryuu looked down over the ledge. People in bulky suits were working at the walls, or staring up at them. He looked up at the ceiling overhead and thought of Master Koumyou, laying out items on his table.

"Close your eyes, Kouryuu. Can you feel power from any of these things?"

"I feel - something like heat? No, that's not it. It's like a tingling, Master. From . . . this."

"Good. You're holding mala beads carved from the bones of the third Seiten Sanzo. I always thought that was rather morbid."

The same tingling came from directly overhead, the rock shimmering like water.

"Yes," he said, pointing. "Look!"

"I see it!" the brat said. "I'm going to start chanting!"

"Wait," Kouryuu said. "Last time you read the Muten, then the Seiten." He held out one end of the Seiten Sutra, and took an end of the Muten in turn. "Let's read together."

They chanted together, the words of the Muten Sutra and then the Seiten Sutra falling inelegantly from their lips. To Kouryuu's amazement and delight the slight shimmer in the rock overhead changed to a limpid pool of water, and it was as if he were looking down into it instead of up, seeing beyond it the trunks of trees dappled with sunlight.

"How are we getting up there?" he said.

The statue looked impassively upwards, then down at him.

"Your technology worked," it said. "I will now put you through this portal."

"How? I don't see any ladders - ack!"

The statue picked him up as if he weighed no more than a kitten. It looked upwards again and adjusted its stance.

"You are the older and more sensible," it said. "I must unfortunately send you first. If you see the sorceress, jump back down."

"What? How - ahhh!"

The statue flung him upwards towards the water. Kouryuu shot up as if weightless and splashed into the pool. It was the last thing he knew.

I picked up the undesignated juvenile and leapt after Kouryuu. The surveillance system really wanted to watch me, but I was firm with it. No, it didn't see me. No, I wasn't the rogue SecUnit. Damn, why did the other unit have to give a verbal warning? I might have been able to knock it out electronically and not have needed to kill it.

I knew something was going wrong the moment I touched the water. It didn't feel like an EMP, but it didn't not feel like one either.

I shut down.

Completely.

An unspecified amount of time later, I woke up. I was lying on my back, and I felt - huh. Like I was operating at optimum capacity, actually. I sat up and checked my drones. I had to wake them up individually, but other than that they were fine. The scorches on my armour were still there, but the searing pain in my upper arm was gone, even when I told my pain receptors to come back online. Both of the children were curled up asleep on the green vegetation beside the pool. No sign of a sorceress. Good. I stood, scanned the area. Nothing. No organic life that I could detect. I sat back down and undid the armour on my left upper arm. The other SecUnit's energy gun had had a lucky hit on the joint; I was hoping it wasn't weakened too much. The flexible Kevlar didn't seem overly damaged. Speaking of damage - I poked at the wound in my organic material. Ehh. I'd had a lot worse. This had somehow healed as if I'd had half an hour in a medunit.

There was a soft gasp. I looked up. Kouryuu was staring at me.

"We are all relatively unharmed," I said.

His eyes were fixed on my arm. I replaced the armour.

"It is nothing. I barely feel it."

"You're not a statue," he said. "I'm a fucking idiot."

It's always nice to meet an honest human.

"I am indeed not a magical statue," I said. "You seem no stupider than most humans I have been in contact with."

He looked faintly disgusted. I didn't blame him.

"The water made me sleep," he said, as if he wanted to kill the pool.

"Yes. Us also. But we're safe, and now I'll take you to the correct portal for your home." I stood and surveyed the woodland. It was quiet and peaceful. I hate that shit. It's always a trap. Through a drone I watched Kouryuu wake the undesignated child, who grumbled and rubbed at his face.

There were no traces of fauna, and the only plant life were the trees and the moss. I scanned the ground and detected the faint imprint of feet, smaller, lighter imprints close together, caused by youthful bipeds running in tandem, larger imprints behind. The stride was impressive: a being two meters in height for sure. The juveniles were lucky to have outrun this sorceress.

"This way," I said, and walked off. My own feet left perfectly obvious imprints. I may not be quite two meters tall, but I'm much heavier than I look.

The juveniles followed, the undesignated one clutching at Kouryuu's arm with one hand (a muttered "Get off!") and holding his toy tight in the other. They kept quiet without my instruction, which was pleasant. I forebode to say that I could detect the larger imprints leading away from the pool again. Humans tend to overreact when given too much information. I sent my drones ahead, searching for the sorceress.

Some minutes later, I stopped. The pool was identical to the one we had left. Even those without my capabilities could see that the moss was disturbed in spots.

"You knelt here," I said, pointing. "A heavier being stood there." I pointed to another spot. "Something tore up the moss there."

"She was very bad-tempered," Kouryuu said, deadpan. "Maybe she had a tantrum when she couldn't catch us." He looked into the water. "Is this the pool she came from?"

"Yes," the undesignated child said, and shivered. "Can't you feel it? I knew we had to run from her, SecUnit-sama, some grown-ups are just bad news." He looked around timidly. "Do you think she went home?"

"The energy signature of the pool is merely that of water," I said. They looked at me blankly. "I don't think we could possibly be that lucky," I translated. I scanned the surrounding area. The larger imprints wandered away into the trees. Fainter, and on the opposite side of the pool, I could see the lighter sign of the children's steps. "This way."

I was on high alert as we walked, mentally cursing Chururamfy Corporation's ethics board for deciding to trial outfitting its security with non-lethal weaponry for civilian areas. I mean, I still had the energy guns in my arms and my drones, obviously, but the intimidating heavy gun was mostly just intimidating. Unless you were a child. Or had a weak heart. Or fell awkwardly when I shot you. Or I shot you in the head. Look, when I say a SecUnit has been outfitted with non-lethal weapons, it's all relative. I'd have felt better with a good old fashioned pulse rifle. You know where you are when you've been shot with a pulse rifle.

"I can see the correct portal," I said at last, seeing a pool with faint depressions in the moss as if two small bodies had lain asleep beside it. No imprints of feet led away from it other than the tracks I followed.

"At last," a voice with all the self-assurance of the most highly-promoted supervisor said. "Which is it, knave? Tell me at once!"

"Fuck!" Kouryuu snapped.

"Oh no!" the undesignated child wailed.

I spun about, a drone already giving me telemetry. The sorceress had some cloaking device, that was clear, to have been invisible until now, but my shot followed less than a quarter of a second after detection. Oh, for fuck's sake. In the heat of the moment I'd forgotten it wasn't a pulse rifle.

The shot took her mid-torso, but dissipated harmlessly as she held out a rod. The energy signature from it was significant. Her protective device. I shot directly at it, hoping to overload it, and she twirled it, the shot rebounding right at me. Well, that was unexpected. I'm not denying that crowd pacifying weapons applied directly to my organic material would be unpleasant, but the bolt glanced harmlessly from my helmet. My drones informed me that the juveniles were either sensibly falling flat on the ground or (never do humans fail to disappoint me) assuming an aggressive, combat-ready stance ridiculously out-of-proportion with their physical size.

"Kouryuu! Stay out of this!"

"Obey the knight, stripling!" the woman cried. "You are not a worthy opponent of Jadis of Charn! You, Sir Knight - what is your name?"

"It's private," I said.

She laughed wildly. I'd wondered if some of the characters in Lineages of the Sun might be described as doing that, but, wow. That was a wild laugh, all right.

"You cannot mislead me! While my name is too powerful to be used against me, yours is mine to mould as I wish. I know the name of this lad -" She pointed at Kouryuu. " - for you have foolishly told me yourself! And I have heard them both speak your name as you walked!" She pointed her rod at me and I could feel the energy building. "I command thee, SecUnit, yield to thy queen!"

My organic components shivered, and I felt my arms begin to shake. I slowly laid the stupid, useless stun rifle down by my side and stood there, face cast down as she laughed. My drones showed me the boys looking at me in horror as I slowly sank to one knee, faceplate still pointing towards the moss. The sorceress was still laughing, the rod still outstretched towards me. Not pointed at the children, not yet.

"My queen," I said, all the devotion in my voice that the first husband of the shuttle captain in Season Four of Sanctuary Moon had used when he was trying to convince him that he truly regretted going outside the bounds of their marital agreement. What a lying snake.

She lifted her arms up towards the unseen sky and howled in victory. Even for a human, that was a bit much. The rod was safely pointed at nothing other than leaves.

"Fools!" she screamed. "You would obey me even without my knowledge, but I hold your will in the palm of my hand now that I have your name, Sir SecUnit!"

I snapped my head up.

"Not even close," I said as I shot her in the heart and face with the energy guns in both arms. Now that's what I call drama.

The juveniles were making the usual human hullabaloo at seeing a SecUnit doing what a SecUnit does. They calmed down once I turned to face them.

"You weren't really caught by her spell," Kouryuu said, his eyes narrow.

"No."

"Some of her head's missing! Yuck!"

"Stop looking, moron. You'll have nightmares."

I walked over and picked the rod up. It was dormant, but I could still detect the odd energy. The sorceress's body showed no signs of any augmentation. Her height and large stature were natural, although she wasn't reading as entirely human.

"Are you sad you shot a lady?" the undesignated child asked.

"No. She posed a danger to you. You are not formally my clients, but I decided to act as if you were."

Both juveniles shuffled and elbowed each other. I was immediately suspicious. I waited.

"Can we -" Kouryuu started.

" - play with that?" the smaller one finished, pointing at my discarded stun rifle.

Humans. Honestly.

"No."

I picked it up before they could get their weirdly small hands on it. For humans who had just a minute before been shrieking, they seemed calm and happy in my presence. Medical dramas did say that children were resilient; it appeared to be true.

It was only another hundred meters to the correct pool. I stood by it and the juveniles looked from the water to me.

"SecUnit-san," Kouryuu said. "Thank you."

"That's not necessary. You're not home yet. Activate your masters' technology."

They started unrolling their pieces of fabric. They held them together and started reading, then Kouryuu stopped.

"Hang on," he said. "How are you going to get home?"

It was something I'd hoped they weren't going to think about. They looked at each other in consternation.

"Maybe if we should go back to your pool and read there and then we can follow our footprints back here," Kouryuu said. "We won't need to look out for the sorceress."

"But we can't see the footprints," the undesignated child said in alarm. "And we walked for ages!"

"I'm certain the portal will be open," I said. "The energy signal was strong and long-lasting."

"You see?" the undesignated child said. "SecUnit-sama will be OK, won't you?"

"I will be OK."

"You're just saying that to try and make dumb kids feel better."

"I'm not." (I was.)

They started reading their texts again, and the water cleared like a view screen. On the other side of it I saw two adults - possibly men - dressed in long white robes apparently yelling at each other, burying their faces in their hands, pulling at handfuls of their own hair and generally being as useful as most humans. It was night.

"Master!" the undesignated child said softly.

"Master Koumyou!" Kouryuu said. He sighed. "Don't hold him upright, Master, let him fall over - wait! They're still drunk! It's the same night! How can it be the same night?"

"The Muten Sutra is subtle and powerful," the undesignated juvenile sniffed.

"I'll subtly jam it up your ass! Like you know anything."

"Don't fight," I said. "You're almost home." I examined the rod I'd taken from the sorceress. Magic was clearly an advanced technology that humans in corporate space didn't know. Maybe it was alien remnants; I held the rod more carefully. This thing was a complication, and I preferred my life to be as simple as possible. There was no way I could ever explain this, and if I hid it in the storage room it would be discovered after my rental contract was concluded. Who knew what use it would be put to?

"Kouryuu - please give this to your masters. If they are magic wielding religious specialists they will know how best to deal with it."

"I want to hold it!"

"No. Little boys who want to play with guns and alien remnants are not to be trusted with either." The child pouted. "Also, it is strange that you have no designation. You should remedy that."

"SecUnit-san means it's weird that your master hasn't given you a name," Kouryuu said in what I decided would have to be classified as mean pleasure.

"That's not what I meant." (It was precisely what I meant.)

"SecUnit-sama?" the undesignated child said. "If SecUnit isn't really your name, what is?"

I looked down at the adults, who were now poking each other in the chest and clearly arguing. Useless, utterly useless.

"It's private," I said. "It's what keeps me safe from sorceresses."

The smaller child surprised me by putting his arms about me for the second time. Kouryuu bowed, as he'd done before. I still didn't know how to respond to that. Or to being hugged, other than wanting to climb out of my armour and up a tree. Although even that wasn't (quite) as horrific as before.

"Your home's horrible, SecUnit-sama!" the undesignated child said. "Come with us!"

"You don't know your way home is open," Kouryuu said. "This is. Our masters will be grateful, really. You'd have a place to live, and the food's much better."

"Statues don't eat, silly!"

"I'm not a statue," I said, gently pushing the child back. He gaped upwards. "But you're right. I don't need to eat."

"Are you sure you're not a statue?" he said.

I undid my helmet. Without the filter, the woodland air was pleasant. Both the juveniles stared at me in utter astonishment. The undesignated child's expression in particular was so funny that I could have laughed. If that had ever been something my face had learned to do.

"I'm sure," I said. I pointed down into the pool.

For one wild second I thought of going with them, of being the object of two wizards' gratitude - were they wizards' apprentices? - of seeing something no other SecUnit would ever see. Then the reality crashed back: these two young humans were acceptable enough, but I'd be exclaimed over as a novelty, I'd have to deal with adults. I'd have to talk to human after human after human. No, thank you.

"Everything I know is back there," I said, pointing back along our path. "I will be all right. Go home. It's time."

They both grinned at me, displaying the emotional mercurial nature of their youthful stage, Kouryuu grabbed his younger friend/apprentice/not-brother's hand and they jumped into the water.

I stared down. The juveniles were expecting to fall, it appeared. They simply popped into view above human head height, and came down, tucking into balls and rolling. Both came up on their feet. It was much better done than in the mine. The religious specialists stared dumbfounded at them and then the one with long fair hair swept his arms wide, yelling something. Kouryuu shot into his embrace, arms tight around the man's back. The undesignated child shifted from foot to foot, seeming wary, as the dark-haired man clenched his fists and took a step closer. I got ready to jump into the water. The fair-haired adult looked over Kouryuu's head towards them and said something; the other man relaxed, tension draining from him. He beckoned and the child ran to him to be hugged and kissed. I waited another few moments, but my aid didn't seem to be needed.

As I began to straighten, the man holding Kouryuu looked up and met my eyes (I hate that). He smiled at me as if he were seeing an old friend and I could see perfectly well that he said, Thank you. He lifted a hand and made a gesture I didn't understand, still smiling. The water rippled and was just water once more.

I closed up my helmet and paused. I was outlined in a faint silver light. I could detect the same faint energy as from the children's texts. I waited a moment longer, looking at the peaceful trees and pools of water. No one would disturb me here. I could watch all the shows I wanted.

There would be no new ones.

The energy signal did not fade and the silver light still shone dimly from my armour, as if I were a hero in a children's entertainment. I looked once more into the pool, but Kouryuu and the undesignated child were gone, home with their guardians as I had promised.

I started the walk back to the portal to the mining colony. I didn't know if it would open for me, but I looked at my shining armour and I rather thought it would.

I wasn't sure if it counted as a happy ending, but then SecUnits don't expect that. I was satisfied with an ending.