Eleven: The Sequel of AlterMyth

Bad Moon Rising

Prologue

July 20, 1969 - Past Midnight

Saigon, South Vietnam

The Grand Hotel

"Trust in the process, ladies, and keep reaching for the stars. Have a good evening."

With those words, Major General Sparrowhawk bid farewell to Lieutenants Nanashi and Ouro at the lobby of the Grand Hotel. She turned her back to them and sauntered through the hotel's gilded, French-made hallways and marble-tiled corridors with a spring in her step. Her beautiful purple cocktail dress accentuated the purple streaks in her long, black hair and shimmered under the bright lights. She drew admiring gazes from everyone she passed by and flashed knowing smiles at her admirers.

Eventually, Sparrowhawk turned a corner and entered a small saloon. Soft renditions of jazz standards were being played on an upright piano while the sharply-dressed guests wined and dined to their hearts' contents.

Among the patrons of the saloon was a peculiar lady seated at the bar who was just as dolled up as Sparrowhawk herself. That lady had a green dress and shawl that matched her green, shoulder-length hair. She was nursing on a tiny glass of a green "Hemmingway" absinthe cocktail when she noticed Sparrowhawk enter the room.

"Major General Sparrowhawk." The lady greeted, raising her green cocktail and gesturing, "You finally made it!"

"Apologies, Dr. Ceres. The entire lobby stopped to watch the Moon Landing. It was just as bad as Saigon's rush hour." Sparrowhawk gave a casual, lighthearted salute and sat next to her, "You didn't watch?"

The lady, Dr. Ceres, shook her head and smiled.

"My interests are entirely terrestrial, Major General. There's no demand for me or my employer's products in outer space, after all. At least, not yet."

"Fair enough." Sparrowhawk chuckled and flagged down the bartender, asking for a glass of what Dr. Ceres was having. The off-duty general set her elbow on the counter, turned back to the doctor and mused, "Either way, you look chipper for someone who had to be extracted from the DMZ in a hurry."

"I simply believed in the good working relationship between MACV and my employer, Major General." Dr. Ceres smiled wryly, "Didn't you say that the US government has plans for any catastrophic event?"

"But of course." Sparrowhawk grinned. She reached into her purse, brought out a film canister and handed it to the doctor, "All of your data is there, safe and sound. My subordinate's top operator is a professional so she watched over that data like a hawk - or should I say an owl. Like her life depended on it." Sparrowhawk snorted, "In more ways than one, it did."

"I admire your professionalism." The doctor pocketed the canister, "Now then, it's my turn to return the favor. That's why you called for me, yes?"

The bartender returned to Sparrowhawk with her green cocktail in hand. Sparrowhawk took the drink and traced a finger around the rim of the glass, creating a faint harmonic hum.

"Your employer's products, I won't say which ones, have started having some...adverse effects on soldiers under my purview, good doctor." Sparrowhawk spoke, "Sending these soldiers to army medics might cause a stir with army command and the media. So, I believe someone of your caliber would be more than qualified to treat these soldiers."

"I see." Dr. Ceres took a sip of her cocktail, "You want a second, unofficial opinion." Her golden eyes met with Sparrowhawk's red, "Something under the table."