Iteration

‘Iteration’ is part of the space saga that began with ‘In the cold of space you find the heat of suns’ and continues in ‘Tales in Tarrasade’. There is also a one-shot ‘Silver Leaf Tales: Tying the knot’.

Thanks to Small Fox for being my beta. For this story he has also been my muse, suggesting a number of the ideas that have evolved to create this arc.

Thank you to those readers who have written a review, especially those who review regularly.

Particular thanks to richon, v, SunaoTsuji, cynaga, sadie237 and Prism0467 who reviewed chapter 58.

It’s been a while since I have emphasied how much the reviews mean to me. They are a big part of what keeps me writing this story. As some of you know, this fanfic was meant to be a quick story to reenergise my interest in writing, which had been dormant for a long time. It was meant to finish with chapter 30 of ‘In the cold of space you find the heat of suns’.

Well, since then there have been another sixty chapters of ‘In the cold of space...’, almost sixty chapters of this and fifteen tales; I estimate it is, in all, a bit short of five hundred thousand words.

Those chapters, those words, would not have existed if I had not connected with you, the readers. Strangely, readers had never been part of my writing before. There had only been one reader; me. That was what had been missing; you.

I estimate from the hits that there are about three hundred of you who read ‘Iteration’. Perhaps there are more and some of you wait until two or three chapters build up before reading. Perhaps there are fewer and some of you read each chapter in chunks.

So, if you are a reader who has never reviewed or sent an email – Hello! It would be good to hear from you. Don’t worry if you don’t feel you have anything to say; even a smilie can make an author feel better about wrestling with that chapter that refuses to be written. If you want to make a serious point, or be critical, that is OK too. If you don’t want to post a review you could rate the story (yes, even that helps) or send an email (my email address is in my profile). I correspond with a number of readers, mostly occasionally but two regularly. My beta and muse, Small Fox, started off as a reader.

Remember, I send out an email when I update. If you want to join that list, tell me and send me your email address.

Apologies if the characters have grown differently in their new environment.

This is posted in the Naruto/Sasuke section because it is part of a Naru/Sasu/Naru space saga. However, it does feature many other pairings (and a few threesomes). Apologies to those who are expecting Naruto/Sasuke or Sasuke/Naruto every chapter.

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Chapter fifty-nine: Agents

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Pein flung the pot against the wall. The sound of it breaking was like a valve, releasing the pressure inside of him.

There was no escaping it. What had initially seemed like a series of unfortunate coincidences were related. Some Devas were ominously silent. Three of the agents through whom they trafficked clones refused to deal with them and another two had gone out of business. Eight of the accounts they held, each in a different bank, had vanished without trace; Pein was thankful that he had only used them for transferring funds.

A Deva had come in the day before; Pein had an upload planned.

What if he had been followed?

Pein took a deep breath. They had worked out a multitude of ways for individual members of the Akatsuki, and their agents, to break a trail. In addition, the Deva would have checked repeatedly.

It was time to move base; as a precaution. One of the agents was on his way in, podded, for a face-to-face. A fresh crew was due out in the incoming Deva’s ship. They already had instructions to hack into the data streams, check for incoming communications and dispatch his orders. They could also arrange a change in delivery address for the agent.


Thirty minutes until the upload. Pein put thought of his current concerns aside, unlocked a drawer of his desk and lifted out his treatment case. Six hyposprays of four different drugs at five different points on his body; the routine had long ago become a ritual.

Colours deepened and sounds receded. Pein ran a finger along the surface of his desk, marvelling at the texture of the grain.

The click of the latch; he looked up to see Konan in the doorway and felt a surge of gratitude. He knew she hated uploads but she would not dream of allowing anyone else to take him through it.

She was beautiful; wearing his favourite colour with one of the flowers he had sent her in her hair.


Together they descended the stairs. At the bottom Pein stood calmly while Konan set the security system to admit them. They walked the length of the tunnel, into the ship and through to the upload chamber. Pein took his place in the chair.

Timing was critical; Pein knew that the discipline of completing each step of the procedure helped Konan cope with her reluctance.

The helmet clamped about his head and Pein braced himself for the force of the needles piercing his scalp and skull. There was no pain; yet.

Then it came; agonising and devouring. His body spasmed and jerked in the chair. Images, sounds and smells, memories of places he had not been and things he had not done.

The Deva’s, his, loneliness at being separated from Konan; his yearning and the anticipation of their reunion.

Then, just as he was losing consciousness, the memory of a cruelly beautiful face and a voice that sank into his bones; a man he now knew to be Klennethon Darrent.

---

“Can I connect the next one?” Haru asked.

Shikamaru looked up from his task of organising the crystal mounts into a cubic array. Haru was sitting on the table, swinging his legs. He had put on some weight and his skin was Uchiha pale rather than so white and translucent that you could see the veins through it. Even the scars had faded a little.

“Of course, but I shall have to redo it if it isn’t right,” he warned.

“I know,” Haru agreed.

He had been about to hand over the tools when they heard Ranmaru greeting someone at the outer door of what had developed into the small apartment where the three of them lived.

“It’s In-san and En-san,” Haru declared, apparently forgetting about connecting the mount. He jumped down and ran out into the corridor.

He was soon back, pulling Zetsu into the laboratory by his left hand.

“I’m pulling En-san and he’s pulling In-san,” he announced. “I am going to connect one of the data crystal mounts and then Shi-chan is going to test it to see if I did it right. Do you want to watch?”

Shikamaru opened his mouth to tell Haru that it would have to wait but dark Zetsu, In-san, got there first. “That sounds interesting, Haru-chan.” They settled onto one of the high stools. “Good thing En-san and I use the same eyes. It means we’ll all get a good view.”

Haru loved it when the Zetsus made comments or jokes about sharing the same body. “Neat,” he acknowledged in unconscious imitation of Kiba.


Connecting a data crystal mount was fiddly. Haru had tried on four previous occasions with no success. Shikamaru found himself holding his breath and suspected that the Zetsus were doing the same.

It looked good and, to Haru’s delight, the meter confirmed it was functioning correctly.

“Well done, Haru-chan,” dark Zetsu said immediately.

Light Zetsu squinted at the mount. “The connections need tightening up,” he observed.

Shikamaru tensed. How would Haru cope with the criticism; like an Uchiha, as Shikamaru would do or in his own way?

“In-chan always has to tighten up my connections,” light Zetsu added. “We are right-handed. At least your connections are loose because you are so young. You will grow out of being young.”

Haru had looked disappointed but light Zetsu’s explanation produced a beaming smile. “Will you tighten up my connections, In-san?” he asked.

Dark Zetsu bowed. “It would be an honour, Haru-chan,” he replied.


Once the mount connections were pronounced perfect, Haru went off to help Ranmaru with the refreshments.

“Haru-chan is much recovered,” dark Zetsu suggested.

Shikamaru smiled. “Yes. He still tires quickly and has the occasional headache but he is much better.”

“We did not mean to hurt him,” light Zetsu added for the umpteenth time.

“It was not your fault,” Shikamaru reminded him. “He walked into an armed security system. He was lucky it did not kill him within the first five seconds.”

“Hana was brave,” light Zetsu observed.

Shikamaru wondered how many times they would have to have this conversation. “Yes, she was very brave,” he agreed.

“That’s enough about Haru getting hurt,” dark Zetsu decided. “We are here to check progress, to discuss the specification for the computer and to talk about databases.” He glanced towards the doorway through which Haru had gone. “Pein is in a poor mood,” he added in a low voice. “I recommend that Haru should be too unwell to attend dinner for the next few days.”

“We will be moving soon,” light Zetsu added.

“Hush, En-chan,” dark Zetsu scolded.

---

Ranmaru had not realised that Hana had an office. She did not call it an office, she called it a workroom, but it had a desk and boards on which were pinned schedules and lists. It reminded him of Iruka-san’s office.

“We are moving to another base,” she told him. “Normally the prints remain and wait in stasis until the base is reopened. However, you are the only Ranmaru with the necessary memories and, as you are a reprint, we cannot make a copy. This means you will move with us.”

Reprint; it was a term Ranmaru had heard once or twice. He assumed it was slang for a net-to-net imprint.

“We have developed conventions,” she explained. “You must try not to refer to encounters with the prints here when you are interacting with the prints there. It both confuses them and reminds them that they are prints, which upsets them.”

He would not know Cook. Ranmaru wondered if he would miss this Cook or enjoy getting to know the new one. How similar would they be?

“Do you understand?” Hana checked.

“Yes, Hana,” he replied.

“Shikamaru and Haru will be podded. You will then pack the things that Haru might miss if they were not in his room. If there is time you can also help pack Shikamaru’s things. You will make sure that none of Haru and Shikamaru’s things are left behind. Once we are on the ship, you will be podded for the journey.”

Ranmaru hid his excitement; he would discover the way to the ship.

---

When Pein woke he knew that it had not been Klennethon Darrent himself but a shockingly lifelike holoprojection. The Deva had been captured and rendered unconscious. He had woken in a hotel room. As soon as he had sat up the holoprojector had begun working.

It was a message for him, Pein. He remembered it abnormally clearly.

“My name is Klennethon Darrent. You know of me. As you will deduce from my method of sending you this message, I know who you are, Pein of the Akatsuki who was born Nagato, and understand how you operate.

“I assume you were unaware that I care for Shikamaru and therefore for Haru. This is formal notification of that fact. I expect you to return them to their family. Otherwise your operations will continue to fail.

“I know you will not harm them. If any harm comes to them it will not only be Uchiha that retaliates.”


Pein locked himself in the bathroom. He told himself that he was not hiding from Konan, merely giving himself time to think.

The situation had not changed, Shikamaru had told him that he was Klennethon Darrent’s friend. If anything, the message improved Pein’s position because he now had confirmation that it was Klennethon Darrent who was picking off the Devas and closing down his operations.

The Akatsuki had considerable reserves and they could develop other income streams. Devas were disposable. He would send out instructions for those who remained to self-destruct.

There was a knock on the door.

“Nagato? Are you well?” Konan asked. “Are you suffering any after-effects?”

“I am fine. I need a long, hot shower,” he replied.

There was a pause. “Very well,” Konan responded. “I shall check on you later.”


He turned on the shower and stood under the spray. The issue was not Klennethon Darrent, it was why this Deva had come home. It would have been a better decision to send a report and then self-destruct.

As it would have been a better decision not to give the third hybrid child back to Uchiha.

Slowly, cautiously, he reviewed the Deva’s memories. As well as the highly memorable holoprojected message there had been a dossier in the hotel room. It had given details of the kidnapping; facts that Deva had not known because he had been imprinted long before the plan had been finalised.

Pein began to laugh. It wasn’t the Devas. It was him. Of course it was him. The Devas made the decisions he would make.

Faced with a child his judgement was compromised. That was why the Deva had given back the hybrid child; he saw it as a child and did not trust Pein not to kill it. That was why this Deva had come home; he was shocked that the Akatsuki had kidnapped a child and wanted Pein to return Haru to his parents.

That was why Haru’s presence had altered his household so radically. He shook his head and turned off the spray. Thankfully, Haru wielded even more power over Shikamaru.

---

Ranmaru woke to the pod lid opening. It was Hana.

They proceeded to reverse everything they had done. They loaded the luggage onto hovercarts and steered the carts out of the ship, through the docking bay, along the tunnel and into the house.

The layout of this base appeared identical to that of the other. Even the decor was the same, only differing in small details. The exception was the apartment where he, Shikamaru and Haru had been living; there was considerable work to be done to convert the group of four rooms and section of corridor.

“Shikamaru-san and Haru-chan can remain podded for a few more days,” Hana told him. “Pein-sama has authorised the activation of a work team,” she added.


The work team consisted of the standard six: the leader, the silent one, the sad one, the one who ate a lot, the leerer and the one whose hands seemed irresistibly attracted to Ranmaru’s butt. Ranmaru used what he had learned last time and concentrated on making friends with Cook. The work teams did what Cook said or they did not get fed.

“There is a child?” this Cook queried when Ranmaru explained why he had been introduced to the household.

“Yes, his name is Haru,” Ranmaru told him.

“Fussy eater?” he asked.

“No,” Ranmaru assured him. “He will eat most of what the adults eat. He is only five standards, though.”

“You will tell me what he particularly likes,” Cook insisted.

Ranmaru smiled; this Cook seemed very like the other.


Another day and they were ready to rouse Shikamaru and Haru. They were brought out of stasis but drugged before they regained consciousness. Hana and Ranmaru transferred them to stretchers and took them from the ship to the house using the hovercarts. Pairs of the prints then carried them from the cellar to the completed apartment with the other two members of the team opening doors and Ranmaru checking that nothing untoward occurred.

One of them, the groper, made a graphically sexual comment about Shikamaru. The leader of the small group rounded on him immediately.

“He’s a guest, not a print, so keep your thoughts to yourself,” he ordered.

The greedy one nodded towards Ranmaru. “Particularly in front of him,” he added. “You’ll get us retired.”

The groper sneered. “He’s just a reprint. We can always say his memory’s going. How long have you been active, reprint?”

Ranmaru did not answer. His mind was racing. Did reprints have limited time?

“Don’t start on him,” recommended the leader. “You heard Hana. They need him to look after the child. We’re to leave him alone. Anyway, for all you know we might be reprints. You don’t have to be conscious for a net-to-net transfer.”

The sad one looked at Haru. “I had a child. Two of them. I miss them,” he admitted.

There was a pause and then the leader spoke. “They had a better life because of you,” he said. “Your original would have spent the credit Pein-sama paid him to make sure of it.”

The sad one perked up. “Yes, I remember that I was planning to buy a better house and send them to a good school.”


Shikamaru woke before Haru. Ranmaru watched as he stretched and groaned.

“How long was the journey?” he asked.

“No idea,” Ranmaru admitted. “We have been here three days. Haru is still sleeping. I got to see where they keep the ship and how they get to it. There’s a tunnel linking the basement here to a docking bay. There is a security system that Hana turns on and off but she was careful to make sure I didn’t see what she did. They only move personal belongings on and off the ship. I think the mindprinting facilities may be on the ship rather than in the house.”

Shikamaru smiled and briefly touched his hand in thanks. Ranmaru could feel how pleased he was that they had finally managed to acquire some useful information.

“Shika-san, can you find out if reprinted memories last?” he asked.

Shikamaru stiffened. “You sure you want to know that?” he checked.

Ranmaru reconsidered. Did he want to know? “Yes,” he decided. “I need to know. Please, Shika-san.”

“I shall try,” Shikamaru promised. “Anything else interesting or useful?”

Ranmaru considered. “Cook says there’s to be a guest. He’s arriving podded. He’s going to stay in one of the guest rooms and will be at dinner.”

---

Sasori had been surprised that Pein’s wish for a face-to-face meeting had outweighed his caution. Give Sasori’s change in affiliation, it was an unexpected opportunity.

Like the other time he had been to one of the bases, he woke in a large bed in a huge, beautifully furnished room. His clothes were freshly laundered and laid out for him. The bag he had requested to be transferred with him was on the floor.

No shells; Pein had made that absolutely clear.

He checked the chronometer he had in his bag. It was forty-seven days since he had been placed in stasis; a longer gap than he had expected. There was no way of telling what it meant. It could reflect the journey time or Pein may have opted to keep him that way.

A small table was laid for breakfast. Among the elegant white crockery and the highly polished cutlery there was a hand bell. He rang it.

The female dog-human hybrid, Hana, brought food and a pot of tea.

“Pein-sama will see you in his office, Sasori-san,” she told him. “Please ring the bell again when you are ready and I will escort you. There is no rush.”

Even so, Sasori did not linger. Breakfast over, he rang the bell. Hana reappeared. This time there was a youngster with her. He was dressed in grey, like her, but with yellow rather than blue trim. He was in his teens, about the age Sasori appeared to be, and exceptionally pretty.

Hana did not introduce him. He was clearing the table when Sasori followed Hana from the room.


Pein was the same; thin, brooding and dangerous. They exchanged civilities. Then Pein moved on to the purpose of the visit.

“Our operations are moving into a new phase,” he began. “You have always delivered and you performed exceptionally when asked to provide access to the hybrid known as Gaara. I am looking for a senior operative, someone who can recruit and manage others. We will provide all the facilities you need, including an unlimited supply of clones from which you can make your shells. There will also be generous remuneration.”

It was a good offer but Klennethon Darrent was an even more undesirable enemy than Pein.

“Perhaps we could discuss the details during my visit, Pein-sama,” Sasori replied. “It is a privilege to be here with you and Konan-sama. Thank you for inviting me.”

“You are welcome,” Pein replied. There was a short pause before he continued. “We have other houseguests, less willing ones. Shikamaru is here, along with his son.”

Sasori was delighted but had no intention of showing it; he had prepared his response in advance. “So Shikamaru was the Wizard?”

“Yes. We are working on developing an understanding. Of course I cannot allow him access to the data streams, which limits his usefulness. He is working on a longer term project.”

“Losing him should restrict Uchiha’s expansion,” Sasori suggested.

“True,” Pein acknowledged. “He is young. I can afford to bide my time.”

---

Shikamaru had been surprised when Ranmaru had told him the identity of the guest. He studied him across the dinner table; intrigued. Sasori was too small to be wearing a shell, which was interesting; Shikamaru had thought that only Temari knew what he looked like. Astonishingly, he looked fourteen or fifteen, yet Shikamaru knew he was in his mid-thirties. Shikamaru assumed he must use a combination of hormone arrest and age retard.

He was so distracted that it took him a while to realise that Sasori was signalling him with Uchiha long-short. There were long or short pauses between the twitches of his index finger.

There was no intonation; no suggestion that Sasori knew the sense of the message. Shikamaru assumed he had learned the series and was repeating it in a loop.

MAROON_PLUSHIE_KLENN_TEME

No outsider could know that Haru’s plushie was dark red, and that Haku always referred to the colour as maroon, and that he called Klennethon Darrent Klenn, and that Naruto called Sasuke teme.

Sasori was working for Klenn with Sasuke’s knowledge and approval.

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