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buffyfic Digest        Tuesday, August 5 1997        Volume 01 : Number 009



In this issue:

    BUFFYFIC: "Mad Moon in Scorpio" (3/6)
    BUFFYFIC: "Mad Moon in Scorpio" (6/6)
    BUFFYFIC: "Mad Moon in Scorpio" (5/6)

See the end of the digest for information on subscribing to the buffyfic
or buffyfic-digest mailing lists and on how to retrieve back issues.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Date: Mon,  4 Aug 1997 23:01:42, -0500
From: [e-mail] (MS CHRISTINA L KAMNIKAR)
Subject: BUFFYFIC: "Mad Moon in Scorpio" (3/6)

"Man Moon in Scorpio" (3/6)
by Christina Kamnikar
copyright 1997

        #       ^       /       []      3       *       V

        Thursday was a universally frustrating day. More on-line shutdowns,
more students coming in with unforeseen technical problems; and more
weirdness with no visible cause showing up all over the Net.  I kept
getting warnings from paranormal guru Brother Luca and several of my other
cyberspace sources about widespread chaos across the world, all of it
escalating in tandem to its own demented beat.

        Since I couldn't do anything about that---or at least, I couldn't
think of any action to take, and my brain-storming session with Cameo
wasn't until later that evening---I decided to deal with a smaller scale
non-problem just to make myself feel better. Dave and Fritz were up to
something, and my curiosity had grown to where I didn't want to accept
their evasive answers any longer. Besides, I was hoping for the chance to
give Dave a little advice, or maybe point him in the right direction
regarding Willow and her on-line romance. If Malcolm really was Dave, now
was the time to reveal his identity.  Of course, if he wasn't, then it was
probably too late for him to do anything---assuming he even wanted to.

        "So, the project is going well?" I casually asked Dave during the
Advanced Programming Session he helped with after lunch.

        "Project?" Dave's expression was hunted, his eyes rapidly flipping
between me and the computer screen in front of him. "You know about that?"

        "Sure." I smiled, trying to put him at ease. "Fritz explained the
extra hours you guys were eating up. Is it connected to your internship?" I
sat down on the edge of the computer desk, projecting as much approval and
interest as I could. Dave really had a hard time articulating non-technical
concepts, and tended to stress with little encouragement. "How is that
going, by the way? You never did say who it was with."

        "Great." He nodded earnestly, and swallowed hard, searching for
words. "It's great. Very... complex. Multi-layered. I'm really happy there."

        "Good." Dave stared back at me, seeming to have run out of words,
so I prompted him. "The project? What is it?"

        "Oh!" His pale eyes blinked rapidly, and he opened and shut his
mouth several times. "It's... classified. We're getting into a totally new
area. Completely. I'm not supposed to talk about it." Dave glanced from the
monitor to me, then back again, clearly wishing I would drop the subject.
"Ummmm... CRD is hoping to start up again, based on the new product." He
smiled in relief, glad to have explained it to his own satisfaction, if not
mine. "That's it. We can't tell you until after it's finished."

        "Oh." Slightly disappointed, I shrugged philosophically. "Well, I
hope you'll let me know the details when it's done. I'd love to hear about it."

        "Sure! No problem." He bobbed his head in determination, still
seeming nervous, and I smiled and went back to my desk, taking a few
minutes to rearrange some papers before casually bringing up another
subject of not-so-casual interest.

        "Speaking of secrets... you wouldn't have any acquaintance with
Willow's on-line boyfriend, would you?"

        Dave's keyboard went clattering off the desktop as my question made
him jerk in shock. "What? Why are you asking that?" His voice was sharp,
guilty---and fearful.

        "No reason, Dave," I soothed him. "I was just curious. Forget I
asked---" //I wouldn't tell her, you silly kid. Relax!// I thought in
amazment, studying his white, stricken face.

        "It's not me," he said hastily, then added in a rush, "But I'm sure
he's good guy. Willow likes him, and that's what's important, right?"

        "Right." I blinked, crossing my arms over my chest as I stared at
Dave. He was upset out of all proportion to my off-the-cuff inquiry. "Is
there something bothering you? Something about this little romance of
Willow's that I should know about?"

        "No!" Dave responded explosively. He stood up and began gathering
his books as the end-of-class bell rang. "I mean, I don't know anything.
Anything at all. I gotta go---"

        "Dave---" But he'd already rushed out the door ahead of the
Beginning Students, his shoulders hunched and eyes averted as if afraid I'd
drag him back into the room.  I stared after him as the rest of the class
filed out, trying to get a handle on what was going on with Dave.
Something major, obviously; but what? Was it Willow and her penpal? Or was
he just keyed up about the CRD project?

        The room emptied, and I frowned. CRD, hunh? I should have heard if
they were trying to start up production again, and I hadn't. Absently, I
turned off all the computers, gathered up my papers and slowly made my way
to the parking lot. When had CRD decided to make a comeback? The last I
knew, they were completely bankrupt, the main designers working for Silicon
Valley companies, the assets scattered to different debtholders. The more I
thought about Dave the less I liked the implications of his and Fritz's
little 'project'. And why had he freaked so badly when I asked him about
Willow's Malcolm?

                >       <       >       <       >       <

        "Got any ideas of what you're going to ask about? 'Cause I'm
telling you Nikki, the portents are *so* conflicting, we'll just get gloom
and doom if you don't give me something to focus on," Cameo said doubtfully
as she dimmed the lights and got out her cards. I lit a single large candle
and made myself comfortable at the table. Cami's face looked pale in the
unsteady light, either from tiredness or worry.  It was late, and we'd
analyzed the recent on-line and real life events at the school nearly to
death before agreeing that I needed more information. Using the Web for a
reading was no guarantee of true information right now; so we were doing it
the old-fashioned way.

        "Standard spread, I guess. Forces opposing, aiding, surrounding." I
cut the cards, and gave them to Cameo as the reader. She nodded and cut
them again, then I cut them, then she spread them out on the table, her
small hands with their close-bitten nails flicking the cards down with the
speed of long practice. I'd already picked out the card representing me -
the Queen of Swords, whose weapons are thoughts and words - and it only
took a minute for Cameo to go into a light trance and deal out the other
nine cards. It's not quite witchcraft; it's just Cami. She's got a gift for
getting answers, either from cards or people. Most of it is years of
practice---and maybe the gods of chance just like to let her in on some
secrets because she never tells any.

        I turned over the three cards for the forces surrounding me, hoping
it would clarify what the heck was going on. "Perfect. I got these
yesterday morning," I said in frustration. Cameo leaned her chin on her
hands, blowing a strand of blonde hair out of her eyes as she studied the
triangle of Tower, Death, and Chariot. "Not much help there. Chaos,
destruction, change... I *knew* this already."

        "I don't like that this is the second time you've gotten them,
though," Cami murmured. "Let's see what the forces opposing you are---" She
flipped the triangle of cards over with a light sweep of her fingers, and I
stared. Cameo stared. Then she looked at me, her eyes huge. "You're in
biiiig trouble, girlfriend."

        "Oh, yeah."

        The Ace of Swords: pure mental power. The Emperor: the urge to
rule, to control, to conquer. The Devil: sometimes good, sometimes bad,
always concerning hidden secrets, urges, desires left uncontrolled. I heard
Cameo swallow before she tentatively said, "Ummm, if this is what's
opposing you, they're a lot more motivated and scary than you thought. If
this is what's causing the shutdowns and rampant weirdness... it's not
going to stop here. Someone is *making* it happen. Someone with a lot of juice."

        I nodded grimly, then steeled myself and turned over the cards
representing the forces on my side of the balance. "The Hierophant.
Justice. The Page of Wands."

        "That's a lot more specific. Do they ring any bells?" Cameo asked,
gesturing to the faces on the cards. "You know the meanings as well as I
do. The Teacher, Nemesis, and an apprentice knight. I always thought that
version of Justice looked more like an amazon than she does in most decks..."

        "No, no bells ringing...." I blinked, then grimaced. "Although..."

        "What?"

        "Nothing. I just have my fellow teachers on the brain."

        My friend grinned like a happy chipmunk. "Mr. Giles again, hunh?"

        "What again? I mentioned him only one time tonight---" Cameo's
smile widened, and I cursed under my breath, realizing I'd confirmed her
guess. That's the price of letting off steam to your best friend; she gets
to read your mind later.  "Okay, so? The Hierophant's giving out knowledge
from on high, he's usually secluded, yeah, it reminded me of Rupert. Big deal---"

        "You know that might be right, though."

        "Hunh?" I gasped, then chortled. "Rupert Giles is supposed to help
me fight a malevolent force on the Internet? I don't *think* so. No. No,
it's got to have another meaning." I sighed. "This is getting us nowhere. I
need to _do_ something. I can't wait around until 'all is revealed'! So far
no one's gotten hurt--- as far as I know. I'm positive this thing has an
interest in Sunnydale High, there've been too many coincidences and
accidents there. I'm on the spot, I can use that to my advantage---"

        "You could narrow down where the problem is, maybe, and do a
cleansing?" Cameo offered thoughtfully.

        "Hmmmm." I narrowed my eyes, Cami's words giving me an idea. "That
might be a start. And maybe a protection or two---"

        "That'd be more helpful for the students than for the computers. I
can get you some supplies." Cameo pushed her chair back, then trotted off
to her store closet. "I'll be right back!"

        I gazed down at the cards, then gathered them up, reshuffling them
as I pondered my hypothetical allies. The Hierophant. Justice. Page of
Wands... Dave? Nahhhh. Dave wasn't anything like the Page of Wands was
supposed to be, changeable and quick, talkative and fiery. No. I slammed
the cards down on the table in frustration.

        A single card shot out of the deck, skimming across the table and
flipping face-up when it hit the candle. Picking it up carefully, I felt a
tingle up my spine, something I couldn't explain; a feeling of recognition.
It was the Page of Cups; a young page stood in the forest, staring into a
pool of water, beneath a drooping tree....

        "Willow?"

*
Christina       [e-mail]     Merc : PWFC : DueSer : SunS

------------------------------

Date: Tue,  5 Aug 1997 15:59:52, -0500
From: [e-mail] (MS CHRISTINA L KAMNIKAR)
Subject: BUFFYFIC: "Mad Moon in Scorpio" (6/6)

"Mad Moon in Scorpio"
by Christina Kamnikar
copyright 1997

        6       ^       >       <       =       ()      0

        Ten minutes after Moloch's last shriek had echoed through the
library, Giles and I were still trying to figure out what to do next. Well,
okay, so, it was more like fighting than actually trying to agree on
anything. Rupert wanted to drive straight over to CRD and find the kids,
while I was trying to persuade him that calling in the police would be a
good idea about then. He would have left immediately if I hadn't been
sitting on the car keys he was searching for; and I would have already
notified the authorities, if Giles hadn't taken the receiver cord off the
phone and stuffed it in his pocket.

        When the phone finally rang, he had to fish the cord out of his
jacket pocket and reconnect it, looking somewhat chagrined, before he could
answer the call. "Yes?" His eyes closed and he smiled in relief, and I
sagged bonelessly, not needing to hear anything more to know they were all
okay. "Splendid. We're very glad to hear that. Is Willow...." He frowned,
nodding, glanced at me and looked away, his lips setting into a resigned
line, then said, "I think that *is* the best course of action. We'll wait
for you here.... Yes. Tell Willow we're relieved she's well... Good-bye."

        I ran trembling fingers through my hair, and smiled a little
giddily at the librarian as he hung up the phone. "They're really okay?"

        "I didn't get a great deal of information---Buffy tends to be
rather minimalist in her phone conversation skills---but I gather that all
three of them are out of danger, and Moloch has been neutralized, at least
for the time being. Buffy will be here shortly to clear up the last
details." Giles sank into one of the library chairs, weariness and the
remnants of worry giving his face an unfocused expression. "Xander will be
staying with Willow until her parents return from the theatre, as moral
support. None of them were physically hurt, but I can't imagine that she's
not... umm, upset."

        "For starters," I commented, not having the energy to needle him
any further. Poor Willow. She'd been so thrilled to have an admirer, and to
have him turn out to be a demon... well, it was definitely going to mess
with her head. I made a mental note to keep an eye on her for the next few
days, possibly offer her some discreet moral support as the furor died
down. Which reminded me of Dave; and all the grief to come for his parents
when they found out he was dead. "Did any of you contact the police about
Dave, yet?"

        "Umm... no. We were rather busy---" Giles said apologetically.

        "It's okay, I know, I wasn't criticizing," I interrupted, waving
his explanation away. "I was just thinking that maybe I should be the one
to call it in and deal with the police's questions. The students have been
through enough already, and there's no reason why you would be looking for
him. Where is he, again?" I swallowed hard, steeling myself for the sight
of Dave's lifeless body.

        "The computer lab. He's been hanged. We should probably wait until
after Buffy has left before we call the authorities." Rupert shot me a
grave look, then said quietly, "I'll go with you, and stay until the police
arrive. There's no reason you should have to do this alone."

        I opened my mouth to object, then nodded without speaking, grateful
and surprised again by Giles's unexpected perception. I'd liked Dave; had
hoped for good things for him... and now all those hopes had been cut off.

        We didn't speak again until Buffy arrived, both of us withdrawing a
little to try and deal with what had happened, I think. I know I was
startled when the library doors were pushed open, to reveal Buffy Summers
carrying what first appeared to be a metallic box.

        "Whoa," I muttered when she dropped it on the table. It wasn't a
box, it was a head; made of sheet metal, with wiring trailing from where
the neck should be, and two flickering LED lights for eyes---and curling
horns. "Is that what I think it is?"

        "Good... heavens." Giles looked ill. "Moloch?"

        "What's left of him," Buffy said, perching on the table next to the
gruesome trophy. "He had the zomboids at CRD make him a robot body, and
when you guys finished the ritual---you have absolutely *awesome* timing,
did I mention that?---he got stuck in it. Didn't exactly make his day." She
swung her legs nonchalantly, smiling at the two of us, much less bothered
by the bizarre circumstances than either of the adults in the room, from
what I could see.

        "So how did you get the head?" I asked, my fingers reaching out
toward it. I couldn't force myself to touch it; there was still something
vaguely malevolent about that dead-eyed gaze.

        "Well, he kinda lost it when he realized he was bound in the body,
and not in cyberspace anymore. So he was trying to kill the three of us---"
Giles made a sound of distress, halfway between a cough and groan, and
Buffy swiftly turned to reassure him, shooting me an uncomfortable look in
the process. "It's cool, Mr. Giles. Really! Nobody got hurt, and Willow
even got in some good shots at him; remind me not to get her mad at _me_."
She grinned, then grimaced at the head. "But he was so freaked that he
didn't really look where he was punching, and when he was swinging at me he
missed and hit a fuse box. *Completely* whacked out his circuits. You
should've seen it, Giles, sparks and fireworks and the whole body just came
apart like exploding Legos! It was great."

        "I'm glad to hear it." Rupert crossed his arms, some of the
stuffiness coming back into his manner; but it still couldn't disguise how
relieved he was. I found myself grinning at him too, now that I knew his
pompousity was at least partly an act. He hadn't even corrected Buffy's
slip into the casual use of his last name; I guessed that he'd given up
trying at some point in the past. "But perhaps you'll explain why you
brought us the head?"

        "It gave me the creeps." At the librarian's raised eyebrows, Buffy
rolled her eyes, her voice becoming *extremely* patient. "Look, I didn't
think bringing the whole body would be a good idea, and the voicebox was on
the torso part, but... I was wondering..." She stared nervously at the
android head sitting next to her. "I was wondering if he was still in
there, maybe."

        Giles blinked once, twice, then his gaze sharpened on the remains
of Moloch. "Yes, of course.  Excellent work, Buffy."

        "Very excellent work," I added, impressed that she'd thought of it.
"You're right. Since demons can't be destroyed---"

        "They can't?"

        "No." The Brit was paging through his book of rituals again, his
voice grim. "They can only be banished from our world, or bound. And since
banishment takes considerably more power and knowledge than we have
available to us, our only recourse is to bind him. At least until I can
find a reliable banishing ceremony." He drew a deep breath of relief.
"Yes. Quite. *Now* we can bind it back into the book."

        "Are you sure that's a smart idea?"

        "We can't leave it in this form, Miss Calender. I think you'll
agree that there's still some risk---suppose one of his minions from CRD
decided to try to reassemble him?"

        "Good point," I murmured. I picked up one of the lighters and began
lighting the candles again. We really didn't have any options. It wasn't
the best solution, but it was better than leaving Moloch as a decorative
doorstop. "What happened to all of them, anyway?"

        "Well, Xander and I... kinda took care of some of them." I stared
at Buffy's petite form, then remembered her reputation, and suddenly
wondered exactly how much of it *was* only rumor. "They'll be waking up
around now, I guess. But CRD's a mess, and with Moloch gone I don't think
they'll know what to do right away." She looked at me for a second, then at
Giles, and said tentatively, "Fritz, though... Willow said Moloch killed
him, to make some point. She wasn't really clear about it, she was pretty
shook up...."

        I stared at the lifeless head, wishing I could inflict some pain on
it, wishing that there was more I could do to exact justice. "Poor Fritz,"
I whispered. "Never had a clue about real life. I know he might have been
the one to kill Dave, but..." I shook my head. "He never had a chance." I
looked up to surprise an expression of sympathy on Rupert's face, and I
forced a small smile. "How is Willow coping with this?"

        "She'll be okay," Buffy said. "She's stronger than she looks, you
know. And Xander's with her; he'll help her deal. I think she was feeling
more humiliated that she got fooled by Malcolm than anything else. She was
too mad to stay scared the whole time."

        "Well, that's something."

        "She had a very close call," Giles observed soberly. "But in time,
she will recover. For now, we have to make certain that Moloch can't cause
any future harm. I'll keep the book under lock and key in my office, until
I can find an alternative." He rubbed at his eyes, looking exhausted.
"We'll need to re-enact the binding ceremony---it's fortunate that you're
here, Buffy. The Circle requires no less than three people to be effective,
so I'm afraid you'll have to participate."

        "Cool. Let's do it." Buffy was amazingly calm about all of this. I
couldn't decide if it was teen-age resilience or innate strength of
character, but I resolved  _never_ to underestimate Willow's friend again.
She might not be passing all of her classes, but Buffy Summers kept cooler
in a crisis in a way that you would expect of someone years older.

        We formed the Circle of Kayless again, with Giles leading the
ceremony as before. The magician qualities about Giles seemed more muted
this time, but they were still there, jarring at all my preconceptions of
him one more time. Power gathered in the room slowly, the candles
flickered, the eyes of the head seemed to glow, the wind started
screaming--- then *ZAP*!

        Darkness abruptly rose from the metal cranium, swirling through the
room briefly, until it was sucked into the book. As we watched, characters
and then words were forming on the page... filling up the folio faster and
faster, until all the candles went out simultaneously, and the wind died
down. The chilling sense of presence was gone, utterly and completely.
Giles shut the book very carefully, then collapsed against the table. "I'm
glad that's over... it takes a lot out of one." His voice was husky with
fatigue, and Buffy patted him on the shoulder.

        "Get some rest, Giles. You too, Miss Calender. I'm going back over
to Willow's. Call us there if anything comes up, okay?"

        "Yes, of course. Thank you again, Buffy. Give Willow our regards."

        Buffy was still energetic enough to nearly skip out of the library
as she left. //Oh, to be young and bright and fearless.// I joined Giles at
the table, feeling like I needed about twenty-four hours of sleep and a hot
shower to feel human again. But there was still Dave's death to be dealt
with, and all the police procedures that went with it. "What a night."

        "Miss Calender, your help has been invaluable."

        "No sweat." I patted him on the shoulder, as Buffy had done.

        "Perhaps not. But I... I owe you an apology, I think, for my
attitude earlier this week, and the most heartfelt thanks for your
assistance in this matter."  Giles really does have a sweet smile,
especially when he's being sincere. "I can honestly say I couldn't have
done it without you."

        Shrugging, I smiled back, feeling *really* self-conscious with him
looking at me like that.  "You're welcome. Are you going to explain about
how you knew what was going on?"

        "Oh. Um...." Flustered again, Giles started stammering as he stood
up, gathering some of the books together.  "Well, you see, I recognized the
book---"

        "How?"

        "Could we discuss this at another time?" The genuinely worn
expression and pleading tone wouldn't have put me off, if it weren't for
the fact that I was too tired to pursue it. Besides. It's not like I'm not
going to get it out of Rupert someday....

        "Okay. Another time, when you're not so trashed."

        "Indeed." He finished cleaning up the books, put the Moloch volume
in his office, then locked the office doors and ushered me out of the
library, turning off the lights as we exited... then we slowly turned to
walk toward the computer lab.


        -      >       <       >       <       >       <       +

        The next day couldn't actually be called typical; there was a
teacher's meeting to discuss Dave's "suicide" and the discovery of Fritz's
body in a ditch just outside of town.  Giles and I avoided looking each
other in the eye as the details were discussed and theories put forth.
Principal Snyder was predictably unhappy about all of it. I kept my mouth
shut, except to mention that both had been working at CRD. A fire at their
main research lab had destroyed half the site, and a handful of workers had
disappeared at the same time. The police were as satisfied as they could
be, having decided that Dave and Fritz had run across something illegal at
the lab and were possibly killed because of it. I was glad that the police
hadn't believed Dave's death was a suicide, either; at least his parents
didn't have to cope with that kind of guilt.

        The Net had settled down again, with only routine glitches and
problems occurring since Moloch's binding. It was relief on a cosmic scale
for me to realize that he was gone, to know he wasn't contaminating and
corrupting other systems---and people. I'd called Cameo the night before,
told her what had happened, then booted up Henry to find he was in perfect
shape again. I had to explain some of what happened to my group, all of
whom were praising me more than I deserved for helping rid the Net of the interloper.

        Willow wasn't in lab that morning, but she did make it to her
afternoon class, where she thanked me for helping out Mr. Giles with the
"virus" in the library system. She didn't seem to want to talk about
Malcolm/Moloch, or Dave, and I didn't push her. Seeing her sad eyes and
muted enthusiasm gave me a pang of sympathy for her, and anger toward
Moloch, even though he was still bound. I told her that if she wanted to
talk, I'd be willing to listen, and she smiled shyly before shaking her
head. I was glad to see Buffy and Xander waiting outside of class for her,
obviously looking out for their friend, and hoped that time would erase
most of the bad memories.

        It wasn't until nearly the end of the day that I saw Giles alone
again. "Well, look who's here." I smiled, pleased to see him hovering in my
doorway. "Welcome to my world. You scared?" I asked challengingly, noting
the nervous glances he kept shooting at the computers.

        "I'm... remaining calm, thank you. I just wanted to return this."
He held out one of my corkscrew dangles, smiling ironically, but without
the former edge of combativeness that had been between us. "I found it
among the new books, and naturally, I thought of you."

        "Cool. Thanks." I took it and grinned at him, noticing that he
seemed to have become a lot more attractive since the night before. Or
maybe it was just that without the usual irritation he'd inspired, I could
see what had always been there.

        "Well, I'll see you anon." Giles started backing towards the door,
mission accomplished, ready to escape.

        "Can't get out of here fast enough, can you?"

        He stopped, then sighed. "Truthfully? I'm even less anxious to be
around computers than usual."

        "Well, it was your book that started all the trouble, _not_ a
computer." Giles looked away, slightly rueful. I sharpened my attention on
him, wanting a straight answer for once. "Honestly, what is it about them
that bothers you so much?"

        He pondered for a moment, then firmly said, "The smell."

        "Computers don't smell, Rupert."

        "I know." He took off his glasses, getting caught up in verbalizing
his thoughts, stuttering a little with the same enthusiasm I'd surprised
out of him when we'd talked about computers before.  "Smell is one of the
most powerful triggers to memory there is.  A flower, or whiff of smoke,
can bring up experiences long forgotten. Books smell.... Musty, and
rich.... Knowledge gained from a computer has no texture, no context! It's
there, and then it's gone." Giles grimaced, then shook his head with
determination. "If it's to last, the getting of knowledge should be
tangible. It should be... smelly."

        I'd never noticed what a great voice he had before, either. "Well,
you really are an old-fashioned boy, aren't you?"

        He put his glasses back on, a little embarassed, but definitely
amused, smiling at me wryly. "Well I don't dangle a corkscrew from my ear,
if that's what you mean."

        Okay, so I'm evil. Sue me.

        "That's... *not* where I dangle it." I said with a completely
straight face, then turned away to hide my smile.

        Priceless. The look on his face, the glimpse I caught of it anyway,
all British and stunned and fascinated... absolutely *priceless*.

        Rupert can have whatever secrets he wants. But I'm just going to
keep him wondering about mine....


>>END OF LINE
                Comments hoped for!
Christina    [e-mail]     SunS : DueSer : Merc : PWFC : HC
        ^       @       *       ~       )       +       =       }|{

------------------------------

Date: Tue,  5 Aug 1997 15:56:32, -0500
From: [e-mail] (MS CHRISTINA L KAMNIKAR)
Subject: BUFFYFIC: "Mad Moon in Scorpio" (5/6)

"Mad Moon in Scorpio"
by Christina Kamnikar
copyright 1997

        *       @       %       !       ~       =       5

        There was no sign of a worried Brit in the main stacks, but I could
hear the radio in the office when I entered the library. I rapped lightly
on the heavy oak door as I walked in. "Hi. I got your message. What's so urgent?"

        Giles was at his desk, one lamp casting a dim glow around the
stacks of papers and books, but he hurriedly stood and turned off the radio
when I entered, leaning back against his desk and seeming flustered as I
shut the door.  "Ahhh... thank you for coming. Um... I need your help."  I
blinked both at the bald statement of fact and at the anxious, desperate
manner in which he uttered it.  No more pride here; Rupert was way too
keyed up to care about either that or his professional image. His
expression begged me for understanding as he stuttered on. "But before
that, um...  I need you to believe something that, um... you may not want
to." It was almost painful to watch him try to work up the nerve to
explain. "Uhhhmmm, something's got into the um... inside, ummm...." He
visibly braced himself for my reaction, then blurted out, "There's a demon
in the Internet."

        "I know," I said, trying to calm him down with matter-of-fact
acceptance of his statement. //The cards were right... and so was my first
reaction. I should have trusted my gut instinct---//

        "You already know ... Uhm. How exactly is that?" Stunned disbelief
combined with defensiveness and something like fear to put Giles even
*more* on edge than he'd been when I walked in. He was watching me like he
was afraid I was going to attack, or laugh, or suddenly cast a spell; I'd
have loved to know how *he* knew what was going on, but there wasn't time
for that. I had to get him calm enough to explain the problem, and he
wasn't going to until he believed that *I* believed him.

        "C'mon, there've been portents for days. I mean, power surges,
on-line shut-downs.... You should see the bones I've been casting."  I
sighed in frustration, wishing I'd shared my information with him two days
ago, after the Tarot reading at Cameo's. "I *knew* this would happen sooner
or later. I mean it's probably a mischief demon, you know, like Kelkor or---"

        "It's Moloch." Giles' voice was very low as he turned away from me,
his face hidden in the shadows.

        "The Corrupter?" I felt like I'd taken a punch to the gut. Mischief
demon? Was that what I'd thought this might be?  That would've been a piece
of cake compared to one of the oldest and most seductive diabolicols in the
Netherworld.  "Oh boy. I should've remembered, I just didn't---" //He's
gotten to Fritz, and Dave, and maybe Willow,// I realized. //That's why
they've been so weird---oh, God, oh Goddess---//

        "You don't seem exactly surprised by all... Who are you?" The
almost accusatory tone in which Rupert asked this had me blinking again,
slightly amused and distracted from thoughts of Moloch.

        "I teach computer science at the local high school," I reminded
him. What, was he expecting me to be the Queen of Faerie?

        "A profession that hardly lends itself to the casting of bones."
Giles had backed into a corner was watching me narrowly, clearly not
convinced that I was on his side yet. His face was hard to read, light
reflecting off the lenses of his glasses and hiding his eyes.

        I snorted. "Wrong and wrong, Snobby. You think the realm of the
mystical is limited to ancient texts and relics? Did bad old Science make
the magic go away?" A little laugh escaped me, part exasperation, part pity
for his obtuseness. "The divine exists in cyberspace, same as out here."

        "Are you a witch?" He leaned forward, the fear still present but
mixed with fascination.

        I shook my head. "I don't have that kind of power. Technopagan is
the term." Shrugging, I smiled a very little bit, feeling self-conscious,
watching his reaction carefully. It wasn't exactly the sort of thing I told
everyone; I could just *imagine* Principal Snyder's reaction, if he knew.
Hopefully Giles would keep it to himself.  If he didn't weird out on me
now, we might be able to get through this.... "There are more of us than
you think."

        Giles swallowed, and his face cleared into relief bordering on
delight. "Well, umm, you can definitely help me. Uhm... what's in
cyberspace at the moment is less than divine." He'd gathered up several
books and was hurrying out into the main library, holding the door for me
for a second then striding urgently over to the computer. "I have the
binding rituals at hand, but I'm completely out of my idiom."

        "Well, I can help. I think. Well, this is my first real--- Do you
know how he got in?" I was feeling a little panicked as it hit me that we
were about to do a real live major-league spellcasting against one of the
Top Ten Demons Not to Invite to Dinner. //And where did he get *binding
rituals*, anyway?// Something to freak about later, that Rupert Giles,
who'd I'd pegged as a materialist skeptic without a second thought, not
only believed in demons but knew how to banish them.

        "He was ... scanned, I believe is the term." The dry tone wasn't
insulting or combative, at least not when leavened with the ironic glance
he shot me.

        I rolled my eyes at the gibe, then asked, "And you want him back in
the book?"

        Before Giles could answer, the phone rang, and he turned to answer
it before it rang a second time. "Buffy?" I blinked, trying to figure out
why Buffy would be calling--and then my unarticulated question was answered
before I completed it.  "Willow?" //Dave. Fritz. Willow? What's
happening---// "Where are you?" I booted up the computer, biting my lip to
keep from interrupting. "Miss Calender and I are working to get Moloch
off-line." A pause, and then Rupert hung up without saying good-bye, and
hurried back over to my side.

       "What's up with Buffy and Willow?" I asked, pulling up the chat
program and checking to see if I was setting off any electronic trip wires.
Nothing objected; which was good. Moloch was too cocky, or too
inexperienced with some portions of cyberspace to have realized what could
still be done to bind him.

        "Willow's disappeared." My fingers froze on the keyboard at
Rupert's strained tone, and I looked up to see him fighting to hide tense
worry from me, and not succeeding very well. "Apparently Moloch has been
masquerading as Malcolm, her on-line pen-pal---"

        "Oh, no..." //She'll be devastated when she finds out... But what
could have happened to her?//

        Giles was still speaking, his voice sounding tight and unhappy.
"Buffy and Xander are at CRD, where Fritz and ... Dave, were working. We
believe Willow may be there, possibly against her will." He took off his
glasses and polished them, then put them back on, gripping the back of my
chair as his voice softened. "I should tell you---I'm very sorry to have to
be the one to tell you... David is dead. Buffy found his body in the
computer room less than an hour ago, which precipitated our search for Willow."

        I stared numbly at the computer screen as it accessed the program I
needed, feeling like I'd failed Dave somehow. Even knowing what I was up
against didn't help. Moloch had been corrupting and killing for a millenia;
Dave would be far from his first victim. But it still hurt to know that the
fortune I'd guessed from Dave's flame was true; and that the shy kid with
the brilliant insights was gone. "How?" I whispered.

        "It's possible that one of the employees at CRD killed him... it
looked like a suicide, but a rather unconvincing one." //Or Fritz? It would
have been easier for him...// I wondered bleakly, remembering the hints
he'd dropped that week as I could feel myself droop with grief and pain.
The hand gripping the back of my chair was suddenly laid comfortingly on my
shoulder, and I swallowed and nodded my understanding, strangely reassured
by so small a gesture. I looked up at Rupert and forced a grim smile. At
least neither of us were in this alone.

        "Then we'd better get to work." I turned back to the computer,
blinking hard. "We don't want Willow to be next, do we?"

        "Exactly." He squeezed my shoulder briefly, then walked away,
opening drawers in one of the cabinets and taking out several handfuls of
white candles, along with two small butane lighters. I finished setting up
the program, then moved to help him form the pattern we needed. I still had
a lot of questions---like why Buffy and Xander were off trying to retrieve
Willow; how they'd put the pieces together to form Moloch---but it didn't
matter. I could feel the time slipping away from us as we placed the last
of the candles and I returned to the computer. Willow, Buffy and Xander
were counting on us.  Explanations could wait.

        "The first thing we have to do is form the Circle of Kayless. Right?"

        "Circle... but there's only two of us. It's really more of a line."
It really was a good thing that Giles had asked for my help. 'Out of his
idiom' was, in this case, just another British understatement.

        "You're not getting it, Rupert," I said patiently. "We have to form
the Circle *inside*. I'm putting out a flash, I just hope enough of my
group responds."

        "Won't Moloch just shut you down?"

        Valid question. But not one I wanted to think about. "I'm betting
he won't notice until it's too late."

        "Hoping and betting, is that what we're reduced to..." Rupert's
tone was approaching despair. He was nearly frantic in a restrained,
British way that I hadn't expected and couldn't blame him for; the fear in
his face made me think of Willow again, and what Moloch usually did to
those who disappointed or rejected him.

        Anxiety made my voice a little sharper than I meant it to be. "You
want to throw in praying? Be my guest."

        Answers were coming back from my group, and I let out a silent
breath of relief.  Julio in Mexico City, Catherine in San Diego, Petra in
Hawaii, Fox in Vancouver, and Kiki in Denver were all up and willing to
enact the ceremony; more, they were willing to do it without asking why.
//I love you guys... // I started the link to CRD and between my fellow
Circle members, and set up the chat board. "Almost there."

        "Couldn't you just upload a computer virus?" Giles asked hopefully.

        //Giles, we have *got* to talk about a beginner's class for
you...// "You've seen way too many movies." A couple more commands and
squared my shoulders. "Okay, we're up.  You read, I type. Ready?"

        "Oh! Yes. I am..." He opened the book, and read the first phrase of
the invocation. "By the power of the Divine; by the Essence of the Word; I
command you."

        Something - a sharpening of attention, or an intensifying of
perception - immediately kicked in as I started to type. I could feel it,
the magic, in a way I'd never felt or heard or sensed it before. With every
word, it grew in strength, started to shape itself in the air around me, in
Giles's voice, and became centered on the computer. I forced my fingers not
to tremble as I fed the keyboard the commands while Rupert's voice continued.

       "By the Power of the Circle of Kayless, I command you." Giles looked
over my shoulder and diffidently pointed out, "That's Kayless with a K." I
nodded and backspaced even as I frivolously wondered about Klingon
connections to the underworld. //Later. Freaking is for later. Type, Nikki.
Type.//

        "Demon, come!" Maybe it was my imagination, or maybe it was the
rising tide of magic, but Giles's voice was sounding clearer, more vivid by
the second. I could actually *feel* the power building in the room as my
group repeated the commands, and each time the librarian spoke a new phrase
his confidence and sense of authority seemed to increase. It was more than
a little scary; and if I hadn't been so busy typing, I would have been
gaping at the new Giles in total awe-struck stupefication.  "*I command you!*"

        Tension crackling through the room, my fingers flying as fast as
they could----hurry, hurry, hurry, have to save Willow, can't let her be
lost like Dave, like Fritz, c'mon, c'mon, c'mon----

        "*Demon, COME!*"

        No one, no entity in this world, could refuse that command. I hit
the ENTER key, and the gathering force exploded.  A howling wind whipped
through the library, and lights flickered on and off as an electronic
scream--- unholy, inhuman, and terrifying--- rose from the computer,
reaching an ear-shattering pitch as Giles joined me next to the terminal.
"Whoa!" Sparks flew out of the monitor and smoke curled upward, with a
smell that was stronger than that simply of fried circuitry. I gulped.
//Damn. Now, *that's* what I call impressive....//

        The power dissipated; the wind died down, the lights steadied, and
the computer stayed very, very dead. "He's out of the Net. He's bound."

        Giles picked up the old volume and paged through it, his face a
study of worry and confusion. "He's not in the book."

        Blinking, I joined him to stare at the blank pages. "He's not in
the book." I shivered, glancing around the library, wondering what had gone
wrong. "Where *is* he?" I only had to look in Giles's eyes to realize that
he had no idea, either.

        "I'm afraid..." Giles rubbed his eyes, took off his glasses again,
then let out a long breath. "That it's now up to Buffy and Xander. And
Willow." He looked at me bleakly, and slowly put the book down on the
library table with shaky fingers.

*

Christina       [e-mail]     Comments wanted!

------------------------------

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