The floor of the main foyer bustled with activity, noise and shouts ringing from the silvered marble walls and arched doorways as volunteers and medical personnel rushed injured citizens to their places of care or rest. Children occasionally filtered in, looking ragged and dusty, and very, very frightened.

Cyrene watched it all silently, hidden on the upper balcony by a fall of indoor ivy and a craceful ivory column. She had been the one to call the chldren in, after reports of their confinement to the schools - or wherever they had been during the attack. Her palace had been nearly overrun by the sheer number of teachers that had answered her call, trailing shaking, half-panicked children in their wake.

And then, there was the clinic.

With electricity and other sources of power cut from the city-proper, it had been necessary to move the hospitals into the Palace as well. If Shevat's population had been even a tad larger, the facilities she was able to provide her people wouldn't have been enough; not even close.

But thankfully, it -was- enough, for the time being. It pained her to see so many of her subjects in such distress, but a small, coldly logical voice told her that if there had been more survivors, more to take care of, it would have been worse all around.

She hated that voice - even more so because it was her own.

Well....... she straightened her dress and flung her hair - now only bound in a loose braid and a golden circlet - over her shoulder. It didn't appear that the place would calm down in the near future, and she didn't want to delay the day's rounds yet again...... A deep breath and a second later she emerged from her hiding place and made her way down to the foyer slowly, gathering the silken white folds of her skirt -- her only other 'bow' to the trappings of royalty, tonight -- and scanning the makeshift signs for what she wanted.

Her eyes alighted on the one she had chosen - the child care center - and the minute she stepped from the stairs she headed in that direction, hoping she could help bring a little more cheer into the dreary surroundings. If she remembered her earlier years, to a child, her palace would be akin to a pit in hell, as far as boredom went.

That brought a ghostly smile to her face. Even after so many years, she could still remember her first year as Shalaer's handmaiden. She had only been twelve, and even then...... even then, with her supposedly greater capacity for patience, this place had bored her out of her mind. She could only imagine what the younger children were going through; and the caretakers......

Thankfully, no one stopped her, or bothered with bowing or any such things. She hardly expected it, at a time like this, but after that ridiculous aide in the recovery ward...... Cyrene shook her head. That girl would have to learn to concentrate more on her job, especially with such dire circumstances looming over the city. Her own presence was nothing new to the people of Shevat; she often walked through Aphel Aura on her own time, and her palace was always open to visitors.

**Not that it helps much in situations like this......** She hurried on across the foyer, slowing only once she had passed the designated arch and entered the hallway. Down a little further light spilled into the dim corridor from every door, and the sounds of children at play drifted to her ears. The air lacked the tensity of the rest of the palace - it seemed the children were already bouncing back, at least.

Laughter burst from the room just ahead of her, and before Cyrene could react, a child rushed headlong from the room, face red enough for a sunset, and plowed right into her. She staggered back against the opposite wall, grabbing the child's shoulders instinctively as she tried to run again.

"Stupid Lamb!" called a voice from the room. Another laughed, shouting, "Run, Lamb, run! Go on! Find a mud puddle to squat in!"

The girl tensed as if on the verge of turning around, and Cyrene tightened her grip, fingers likely digging into the youngster's fragile skin. "Be still," she said to the girl softly, not quite sure what to do with the child, yet positive she wanted to hold on. The clamor from the classroom brought another set of memories to mind, and her eyes narrowed.

Intolerable. She expected her 'nobility' to be colored by their ancient Solarian roots, but not the children as well. What were they learning in their - her - schools?

The child tried to wrench away again, jerking sullenly out of her grasp. But she didn't run; she seemed lost, almost, and tears were gathering in her eyes, try as she might to blink them away. And she didn't seem to realize who she was facing -- at least, most children didn't glare at her like that when they were told who she was.

A land dweller......? She looked...... familiar, somehow. Like someone she had known, not long ago.

A taller form appeared at the door - the teacher or caretaker, no doubt. "Mariko! Get back in here --" She halted her irate demand with a swift intake of air, eyes falling on Cyrene.

**Mariko......** Yes, the name sounded -very- familiar! But the memory, the answer she wanted, flitted out of her grasp like a butterfly, brushing her conscious thoughts but never revealing itself. A tad frustrated, Cyrene settled for glaring at the teacher.

"Can you not control your charges better than this?" Her voice came out remarkably cold; it startled even her, and the teacher flinched as if struck. The room fell silent, and she could see children -- all about Mariko's age -- peering past their teacher into the hallway. A few eyes widened, but most simply watched with interest.

"I...... Please......" The woman blinked, wide-eyed, and bent in a deep bow. "I'm s-sorry my queen...... I... I'll do my best to prevent this in the future." Her eyes darted to Mariko, but the young girl stood in the hallway, frozen.

Cyrene sighed, sharpenng her gaze. The child's expression of horror at learning who she had rammed into was not something she had hoped to see. "You know the laws concerning prejudice and discrimination in this country. I suggest you take some of your time and make sure your students understand them before leaving this building. I won't have these children poison our city with bigotry."

The woman's mouth worked silently, and she nodded, eyes darting once again to Mariko. Cyrene reached out and took the girl's hand, wrapping her fingers around the frail little wrist. "Don't delay the lesson - why not begin now? Mariko will accompany -me-."

The teacher looked about to speak, but she swallowed her protest, and bowed once again, backing slowly into the room and pushing the door closed. Her voice drifted through the wood, accompanied by those of the other children, and then faded away. Mariko shifted restlessly, on the verge of pulling away again.

The motion brought Cyrene's attention back to her new charge, and she glanced at the girl by her side, wondering what had possessed her to involve herself like this. She certainly hadn't planned on encountering -this-, nor the resurgence of memories this child was bringing out again.

Too bad none of those memories were telling her -why- this girl seemed so familiar.

"Why were they taunting you, Mariko?" she finally asked, aware that it was a rather stupid question, given the contents of the jeers.

A tear leaked out of her right eye, but the set of her mouth was determined. "Because I'm a land dweller," the girl replied bitterly, her free hand edging toward her pendant. A Nisan pendant...... "I don't even know what they mean. It's a stupid name."

"So it is......" The nagging feeling of familiarity was getting annoying. "Who are your parents, child? Where are they?"

She instantly regretted asking. Mariko's expression crumpled for a moment, as if she were ready to burst into tears, but she bit her lip hard and seemed to force it back until she was staring out of a mask-like expression - or lack thereof. Cyrene felt her heart contract.

"I don't have any parents."

Cyrene accepted the answer and released the girl's hand. "Then who takes care of you? You must have a guardian."

"Why are you asking me? I...... I don't see why you care."

**Poor child......** She did her best to keep the thought from reflecting in her eyes; children never appreciated pity, and this one would probably think less of it than others. She was smart, for her age...... or rather, more mature. "I cannot leave you here, Mariko, and I'm sure you don't want to go back to your class, do you?"

The girl shook her head mutely, a flash of anger burning in her eyes.

"As I thought." She started back down the way she had come, gesturing for the girl to follow. "Who is your guardian? Where do you live?" she asked again, watching as Mariko hesitantly followed her.

"My...... no, nobody is home." She sighed, falling into step beside Cyrene. "My aunt is in the recovery ward - she broke her leg during the attack...... but they won't let me in to see her very often." Mariko stared at the floor as she walked, studiously keeping her eyes away from Cyrene's. "Her name is Kaori Koha...... if that helps."

Cyrene nodded, leading her across the crowded foyer to the archway marked as the entrance to the recovery ward. **Kaori......** Silly. She made it a rule to know all of her ministers and councillors personally, as well as their families, but while there wasn't a Kaori among them, it sounded so...... And 'Mariko'......

An aide approached, bowing minimally over three clipboards. "Queen Cyrene...... can I be of service to you?"

It was a shame she could not spend more time with the girl; the more she spoke, the closer she felt the memories drift...... "This girl is looking for a woman by the name of Kaori Koha. I would appreciate it if you could find someone to help her."

The aide bowed again. "I will take her myself, Your Highness. Is there anything else you need?"

Cyrene thought for a moment, then shook her head and glanced at Mariko. The girl was studying her with a puzzled cast to her expression. The tears were gone from her eyes, though they were still rimmed red. Was it...... the eyes.......? The hair......?

"See that she has full access to her family, and a place to sleep if she decides to stay." She waved the aide away, spared a small smile for Mariko, and turned about, striding back into the main foyer. She could feel the child's eyes on her for a moment, but the feeling disappeared after a few seconds.

Lost in thought, Cyrene headed back toward the staircase. **Why? Just for a pair of eyes and a nostalgic feeling? **Why did I waste my time with that girl?**

Of course, her Ministers all asked the same thing regarding her rounds about the palace. And she didn't have an answer. It just seemed the right thing to do, and it was a link to that fragment of her past, that old friendship...... Even the dress she was wearing now could have been a subconscious effort to be more like -her-......

**I'm obsessed.** She sighed for what seemed the millionth time and hurried up the stairs, away from the bustle of the makeshift clinics. It was late, but Synclair had made yet another appointment with her, and word of Kaminoshi's activities in Solaris had --

She stopped, one foot resting on the landing.

Could it be? Was the girl the same as...... 'Mariko'? The girl that had made her father so proud he would speak of her every free minute......

No. That Mariko had been a Shevat native - not one to be called 'Lamb' under any circumstances, no matter her parentage.......

An interesting puzzle. And regardless of who she was, the girl had shown her just how far the common populace had degenerated. From the sound of it, they were almost as bad as her Court.

And that was inexcusable.