-Chasing the Wind-
By J. Austin Wilde
Fission Park Press
J. Austin Wilde, K.B.C.S.
Minister of Propaganda and
Super Critical Reactor Axe Man.
Fission Park Press
jaustin@aloha.net
So here I am. It's 02:30, I'm 600 feet under water, and I have a nuclear
reactor critical at power not thirty feet from where I'm sitting. I'm also the
off-going Engine Room Upper Level watch and I have drills and a field day
to look forward to this morning. If I go to my rack and try and get a few
hours down I know I'll 'Fail Open'. What to do?
Simple enough, write something...
Chasing The Wind is a ten part series rooted in the aftermath
of the ‘Ranma Goes to War’ stories. Chasing The Wind is _not_ a war
story. Parts One through Five have been written thus far, so I should be
able to keep up with you the readers by staggering release to every ten
days or so. (Of course like those of you going back to college this fall,
I too will be busy. I have to get through a maintenance upkeep on this
31 year old nuclear submarine I’m on, then make all my arrangements
for the end of my enlistment. Plus I’ve been asked to join the towing
crew for the Ex-USS BLUEFISH, on it’s way to it’s final resting place
in Bremerton, Washington. We’ll see what happens.)
By the way, if you haven't read the ‘Ranma Goes to War’ stories,
you're probably going to get a little confused. (I just had to put that
shameless plug in there.) You can check the Ftp site or email me at the
above address and I’d be happy to send them to you.
This series is dedicated to Jim 'Dizzy' Goleski, who is now tasting his
first freedom in six years. He is the one who introduced me to fanfiction,
and it is only fitting that he has hooked me, as I introduced him to Ranma
and Company several years ago,
Ranma 1/2 is the creation of Rumiko Takahashi, with all of the usual
rights and priveledges.
Thanks for your ear, now on with the show...
Part One:
The Thing in the Yard.
Chapter One
The Winter of the War was over, giving way to Spring. And Nerima in
the springtime is a wonderful place. The cherry blossoms fill the air with a
sweet fragrance, and the sunlight brings a cheerful glow to all it falls upon.
The merry month of May seemed without a care in the world.
Kasumi Tendo stepped outside to answer a knock at the gate. She
wondered if it was a new student for the dojo, most of the regulars knew
enough to let themselves in. Ever since Ranma had started on the morning
classes full time, the dojo had been busy.
She smiled for a few birds who sang in cheery greeting to her. A few
chipmunks chattered for her and she waved to them too. Kasumi just had
this effect on animals. (People too.)
She opened the gate to see a policeman standing astride his tiny little
motorbike. A white minivan sat along the road. Two westerners sat inside
waiting. When the policeman bowed for Kasumi the one on the passenger
side got out of the minivan.
“Good morning Miss Tendo,” the policeman offered with a smile. “Is
your father home?”
“Oh, why yes!” Kasumi replied, sunshine pumps running in fast speed.
Then she thought about the nature of the policeman’s request. “Oh my, is
something the matter?”
The policeman laughed. He was well used to the antics that went on
at the Tendo Dojo. “Not at all Miss Tendo. I’m simply here to assist
these gentlemen in a science experiment.” He gestured to the man
who now stood behind him. The man nodded briefly, a little
uncomfortable about the situation.
“Science experiment? How fascinating!” Kasumi cried.
Mister Tendo had by now come outside holding a newspaper tucked
under his arm.
“What seems to be the trouble?” He asked.
“No trouble at all Mister Tendo,” the policeman assured. “As I was
explaining to your daughter, these gentlemen wish to perform a science
experiment. They would like to study the magnetic fields generated by
power lines in the neighborhood.”
Soun frowned. “I thought only the big high voltage transmission lines
put out magnetic fields. As you can see, there are none around here.”
The westerner took the policeman’s broken English translation and
shook his head. He said a few sentences in English, which the policeman
translated for Soun and Kasumi.
“Mr. Ferguson says his research group is performing a survey of low
intensity fields. They wish to place a small sensor in your back yard to
collect data. Every morning he would come by to take the data and put
in a blank tape. The survey is only going to last a week.”
Mister Tendo looked to Kasumi, who shrugged.
Ferguson said something to the policeman, who supplied:
“The sensor is completely passive. It will emit nothing, merely detect
and record data. Mister Ferguson also says his group is prepared to pay
you a modest sum of money for your troubles.”
“Oh it’s no trouble!” Kasumi cried, a little embarrassed at the
possibility she wasn’t being a gracious hostess.
“How much?” Soun quickly added.
Ferguson made an offer.
“Mister Ferguson says he can only pay you one thousand yen per day,
as he has many other sensors to place today.” The Policeman said this with
a dread that spoke of a very long day ahead.
“Sold,” Tendo declared. The sudden windfall of the dojo had done
nothing to dampen old habits of making a yen where you could. His
daughter Nabiki would have haggled, but it seemed a reasonable fee for so
little trouble.
“Domo arigato!” Ferguson cried, probably the most Japanese he
understood. His voice carried a European flavor to it, but the few
westerners Soun had met all sounded the same.
He ran back to the minivan and opened the side door. He retrieved
a large white box mounted on a collapsing tripod. With the device in his
arms, he said something to the policeman.
The police officer turned back to Soun and Kasumi. “I apologize for
Mister Ferguson’s zeal, but he would like to know how he can find his way
to your garden.”
“Right this way please,” Kasumi offered. She led the man and his device
into the front door. Ferguson had been to enough homes in Nerima to know
that the shoes came off immediately and donned a pair of slippers provided
for guests. Fortunately he was wearing a clean pair of socks today, as the
demands of his work often precluded such matters of personal hygiene.
She led him through the house to the garden. Nabiki had finished her
finals early this year, and watched the man and his device walk by. She
had seen strange things in the house before, but they usually weren’t in
this class of strange.
“Hey sis?” Nabiki called.
“What is it Nabiki?” Kasumi replied.
“Just who is that strange man, and what’s that he’s carrying?”
“Oh, why this is Mister Ferguson,” Kasumi gestured to where the man
had been standing, only to find that he had gone outside. He was now
extending the legs of the tripod.
“So what’s with that big white box?”
“He’s conducting some kind of experiment involving the power
lines,” Kasumi answered.
“Oh..._What?_” Nabiki cried.
Kasumi smiled. “There’s nothing to be worried about, Nabiki.”
“Who’s worried? I was just a little curious. It’s not every day
someone wants to conduct experiments in your backyard. Even in _this_
neighborhood.”
Ferguson closed a small access panel on the side of the box, gave it an
affectionate pat, and walked back inside. He smiled for the ladies,
remembering to bow his head, and repeated his ‘thank you’.
The policeman and Mister Tendo had stepped inside from the front
door. Ferguson repeated his thank you again for Soun.
“Won’t you stay for some lemonade?” Kasumi asked. “I just made
some.”
The policeman turned red in embarrassment as Ferguson left the
house through the front door and continued on to the gate.
“I apologize for his rudeness Miss Tendo. Unfortunately we have a
very busy day ahead of us. Thank you for your patience and please
forgive the intrusion.”
“Of course Officer Shinozaki!” Kasumi replied. She was truly
indefatigable today.
* * *
“Is that the last of them?” A woman’s voice asked.
Ferguson nodded. “Right-o. Took long enough.”
“How much data do you estimate we will require?” An older man’s
voice asked.
Ferguson shrugged. “Depends on the magnitude of the event. In any
case I think a week will be more than sufficient time to compile a profile
on ambient magnetic flux. Nerima is a residential area; power
consumption and therefore magnetic flux should remain fairly constant
over given time periods.”
“Then you’re sure you can filter out the background noise?”
Ferguson chuckled. “This _is_ the first time we’ve had to do this in
a city, but it shouldn’t be a problem. I’d calculate out all the vectors
myself if we weren’t in such a hurry. I guarantee greater accuracy over
that damn electronic abacus of yours.”
“That’s a Cray IIp, Ferg.” The woman admonished.
“Then it’s a damn bloody expensive abacus.”
“That’s all well and fine Mister Ferguson. We are, as you say, in a
hurry.”
Ferguson dipped an infusion basket of Earl Grey tea into a mug of
steaming water. “There won’t be any problems Professor McFogg.
Casimir is stuck pursuing that dead end solution in Turkey, and we
haven’t seen any signs of the others. I think we should pull the rest of
the team in. The event will happen in Nerima.”
“You’re quite sure Mister Ferguson?”
“Absolutely. I only wish the predicted location for the next event
wasn’t in a residential area like Tokyo. Placing all these bloody sensors
just so we can filter out magnetic noise has been a real pain in the arse.”
“Don’t forget gravitic effects,” the woman observed. “If anything,
I’ve noticed anomalies in the local gravitational field of this neighborhood.”
“Any explanations for this?” McFogg asked.
“No Professor. That’s simply the way things are here.”
* * *
“What did I doooooooooooo........?!” Happosai cried as he hurtled
skyward.
Ranma tracked the ancient lecher across the sky, shading his eyes
from the setting sun with his hand.
“Nice hang time Ucchan!”
Ukyo stood next to him frozen in her stance. Her uppercut strike
with her gigantic spatula cut a breathtaking pose. Her face blazed red.
“T-th-that old lecher...” She managed with an icy voice.
Ranma sat down next to Nabiki on the back porch to watch the
sunset. Ukyo composed herself and joined them.
“You should come to expect stunts like that from him you know,”
Nabiki declared.
Ukyo sighed, “I know. I know. But it still doesn’t make getting
felt up by that old pervert any easier to bear.” She turned to Ranma to
see if he was going to add something. He (as a she) was by far Happosai’s
favorite.
Ranma was instead staring at the curious white box mounted on a
tripod that sat in the middle of the backyard.
“What’s _that_ supposed to be?” Ukyo asked.
“Beats me,” Ranma replied. “Kasumi said something about a science
experiment. Something to do with power lines.”
“I read somewhere that high tension lines might cause cancer,” Ukyo
managed. This was a little out of her area of expertise, and it was the best
she could add to the discussion.
“You don’t suppose they’re trying to prove that _all_ power lines are
harmful do you?” Nabiki asked all of a sudden. She had recently invested
heavily in utilities stocks, and the last thing she needed to hear was that her
portfolio was about to nose-dive.
“Maybe,” Ranma said quietly. “When I was in Korea I watched guys
cook hot dogs with the radar directors of their SAM batteries. About two
seconds was all it took to make them pop.”
“Yeeeesh...” Ukyo and Nabiki shuddered appreciatively.
“I’ll say,” Ranma added.
They watched the sun set in all it’s purple and red glory. The sunset
skies were a little more sanguine these days thanks to all the dust and
debris thrown into the stratosphere from a certain nuclear weapon
detonation just before last Christmas. Every sunset was in fact a reminder
of days Ranma would sooner forget, and he became even more
withdrawn into himself.
Nabiki took this as her cue to leave. She kissed Ranma on the cheek,
which brought a momentary smile of appreciation to his grave countenance.
She went inside to watch the late evening news.
Ukyo nodded approvingly to Nabiki as she left. Then she sidled up
closer to Ranma.
“I’m sorry Ranchan. I shouldn’t have reminded you.”
Ranma turned to her and shrugged. “It’s not your fault Ukyo... I’ll put
this behind me, it’s just gonna take a little time.”
“I’m still sorry.”
“Don’t be,” he replied. He then pushed up the corners of his mouth into
a smile with his fingers. “See? I’m happy again.”
Ukyo laughed for his benefit, then slugged him playfully in the arm.
“Wanna take a walk for awhile?” She asked.
Ranma hopped to his feet. “Okay.”
Ukyo popped up next to him. “Let’s go then!”
She ran for the back wall and leaped gracefully over it. Ranma was hot
on her heels. Their ‘walk’ was really a run as they leaped from wall to wall,
tree to tree, and roof to roof.
Ukyo stopped in the middle of the vacant lot. It had been vacant ever
since World War Two, when the house that once stood there had been hit
by an errant 250 lb. bomb from an American B-17. No one had ever rebuilt
the house on the lot, and by the time of Ranma and Company, property
values were so inflated that no one of the modest means that lived in
Nerima could afford to buy it. Thus it would probably remain vacant for
a long time to come.
There was always something strange about the lot. Nothing frightening
mind you, just something intangible yet attractive about the place. If you
wandered for awhile in Nerima, eventually you would find yourself
stopping in that vacant lot.
“Feel better now?” Ukyo panted.
Ranma tucked his hands behind his head. “Much better, thanks.” He
wasn’t even winded.
Ukyo noticed this immediately.
“I’ve gotta start working out more. Another run around the
neighborhood would have killed me.” She lamented.
Ranma laughed for a moment. Then his face became a little more
serious of character. “I’m glad you closed up shop early today. I kinda
needed to talk to someone.”
“Fire away, honey.” Ukyo panted. “I’ll answer you in a minute.
Besides, if it wasn’t for you drawing all this business into Nerima to
attend the dojo’s training lessons, I wouldn’t have been able to afford to
close up so early.”
“Times that tough?”
“Not at all. But if I want to go to school this fall I need to save every
yen I can.”
“I hear ya,” Ranma replied. “Mister Tendo’s been great about paying
me as much as he can for teaching in the dojo, and my mother’s been
saving money for years so I could go to school, but even then it’ll be tight.”
Ukyo sat down in the grass and patted the spot next to her. Ranma
sat down in the offered spot.
“Do you really want to go to school?” She asked.
Ranma was silent for moment. He wasn’t really sure himself, and said
as much to her.
“Then you’re doing it for Akane’s sake,” Ukyo said evenly.
There was no hint of accusation or betrayal in her voice. Ukyo had
known for some time to whom Ranma’s heart belonged. If she could not
be his lover, then she vowed to be the best friend she could be. It was
often painful for her and awkward for him, but they had worked things
out over the last five months. Being a friend meant sometimes asking
painful or awkward questions.
Ranma sighed. “Yeah, I guess I am...”
“That’s okay honey.” She took his hand. “I just don’t want you to
think of this as some duty you have to perform. I want you to get
something valuable, something useful out of your time in school. I only
want you to be happy.”
“I’ll be fine, Ucchan.” He said.
She grinned at him. “I know you will. So don’t be so glum all the time!”
“I’ve been pretty good since the beginning of spring!” Ranma protested.
He’d had a very happy Christmas and New Year upon his discharge from
the JGSDF, but when Akane went back to school for the next semester his
spirits plummeted.
It was more than just Akane leaving. A lot of people in his life were
gone. Hiro disappeared to Gods knew where, Ryoga had gotten himself so
thoroughly lost he hadn’t been heard from since, even his parents had
returned home while he stayed with the Tendos. He visited his mother
often and his old man always played shogi with Mr. Tendo on Saturdays,
but it just wasn’t the same.
His whole life had changed since the war. People that were always
around suddenly weren’t anymore. Kuno, he had learned, had been
released from Yokosuka nearly fully recovered. He had not visited the
dojo once since his discharge. He hadn’t seen much of Shampoo, and he
wasn’t sure if it meant that she had at last given up on him. Of course
without Shampoo around, Mousse was no where to be found either.
Kodachi had nearly dropped out of school to tend to her brother in a show
of sibling affection he hadn’t thought possible from her. He hadn’t seen
Hikaru Gosunkugi since that autumn day when he held a pressure dressing
against a gaping bullet hole through the man’s shoulder while Ryoga
rushed him to the battalion aid station. (Until that day he didn’t think it
was possible for a man to have so much blood spilled and live.)
If anything, the Tendos and particularly Ukyo had been the only
source of familiarity left to him. Akane took a train home when she could,
but after her mediocre performance last semester, she was resolved to
make something of her current one. That meant her visits were few and
far between. He found himself missing her daily, and it was the worse for
knowing she was so close to home.
“Yes you have,” Ukyo observed. “I’m proud of you for it.”
Ranma grinned a little. “Ya know, as usual you have cut right to heart
of the matter I wanted to talk to you about.’
“About going to school for Akane’s sake?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh Ranchan, I saw this coming a long time ago.”
Ranma regarded her quizzically. “Oh yeah?”
Ukyo gave his hand a squeeze. “Yeah, it’s about growing up. Peter
Pan and all that.”
“Who? What do you mean by that?”
Ukyo didn't bother explaining who Peter Pan was. “Look at us. We’re
all nineteen years old now. We’re through with high school and now it’s
time to be on our own. Our parents aren’t making choices for us anymore.”
“Some parents aren’t making choices for us,” Ranma corrected.
“Ranma-honey, you’ve never let your father push you into anything
you didn’t really want since the time we met again in high school. Mr.
Saotome certainly isn’t forcing your hand now. Like it or not you’re on
your own.”
“Well... I suppose your kinda right,” Ranma admitted.
“And it’s scary, isn’t it?”
He paused in thought for a moment. “A little I guess.”
“Don’t like to admit when you’re frightened? I don’t either.”
He looked into her lovely green eyes. “So what do you suggest?”
Ukyo turned away for a moment. It was too painful to bear when all
she wanted to do was hold him close and knowing that he wasn’t hers
to love. He didn’t mean to, but this was one of those moments when he
hurt her with a look.
Ranma realized what he was doing to her and whispered, “I’m sorry
Ucchan.”
She looked up at him, eyes moist with tears and then threw her arms
around him. He was surprised at first, but when she began sobbing quietly
he held onto her tightly. He had no idea what to do or say to ease the
hurt. He loved her, but it was not the kind of love she wanted most from
him.
**How do you make up for something like that?** He thought sadly.
“I’m trying to figure out which one of us is more like Peter Pan...”
Ukyo said in halting sob wracked breaths. “Who’s more afraid of
growing up?”
Chapter Two
Ferguson stopped for lemonade on the third of his daily visits to
Tendo Dojo. He immediately regretted not stopping sooner when
Kasumi also brought out a tray of freshly baked cookies. He ate a few
with Kasumi, Mr. Tendo, and Nabiki as they watched him withdraw the
data tape from the sensor.
“<Just what are you going to do with this data you’re collecting?>”
Nabiki asked. Her English was flawless.
Ferguson adjusted a few contacts within the box. “<We’re compiling a
time-indexed magnetic ‘map’ of Nerima.>”
Nabiki nodded sagely. “<Who is ‘we’?>”
Ferguson snorted a laugh. Nabiki walked over to him and peeked into
the box. Inside were several printed circuit cards, a large box that looked
like some sort of battery, a tape drive, another smaller white box that
issued a shrill so soft and high pitched it was barely audible, and a large
coil of copper wire wrapped around the inside of the housing.
“<You know lass, you’ve shown more curiosity than the rest of the
neighborhood combined. I like that.>”
“<So who is this ‘we’ you’re part of?>” She pressed
“<We’re an independent research group, but our major funding comes
from the National Geographic Society, from US Government grants
through the NOAA, and through the British Academy of Science.>”
“<That explains the English accent,>” Nabiki observed.
“<A mere coincidence love,>” Ferguson retorted.
“<Which brings me to my next question: why in the world did you
come to Nerima Japan to compile this ‘magnetic map’? I could understand
if a Japanese concern was funding this experiment, but that doesn’t appear
to be the case.>”
Ferguson snorted again. “<Would you believe me if I told you that there
_was_ a Japanese concern?>”
Nabiki pounced. “<It’s a little late for that don’t you think? If there was
a Japanese concern funding this, then that would have been the first thing
you would have told me.>”
Ferguson closed the access cover to the box and locked it. He drank
another sip of lemonade and gave Nabiki the once over. “<It’s a secret.>”
Nabiki narrowed her eyes at him. “<What kind of secret?>”
Ferguson shook his head. “<A special one. So special I don’t think
you’d believe me if I told you.>”
“<Try me.>”
He slung a black nylon bag over his shoulder. “<I don’t think you’d
understand either. I’ve got degrees in physics and mathematics,
and I still don’t know the half of what’s going on.>”
He bowed for Mister Tendo and started for the door.
“<Hey waitaminute!>” Nabiki cried. “<Tell me what’s going on!>”
Ferguson called over his shoulder. “<Thank your sister for the cookies
and the lemonade. They were fantastic!>”
Nabiki caught up with him. “<Where are you going now?>”
“<I’ve got another ten sensors to visit today, and I still have some
surveys to take. Don’t worry, I’ll be in the neighborhood.>”
Nabiki let him go. She was pushing too hard for answers now, better
to wait until his guard was down again. She returned to the back yard
where Kasumi was brushing some dust off the top of the sensor.
“Please Kasumi, do you have to clean that thing?” Nabiki lamented.
Kasumi shrugged her shoulders a little. “We wouldn’t want the nice
man’s machine getting broken would we?” She thoughtfully brushed away
another bit of dust. “Electronic components are so sensitive to dust.”
Mister Tendo placed a hand on Nabiki’s shoulder. “What was that you
and Mister Ferguson were discussing? There isn’t anything wrong is there?”
Nabiki looked up at her father. “No daddy, nothing like that.”
“Good. Good.” He replied. Ferguson’s thousand yen note for the day
was burning a proverbial hole in the pocket of his gi. He needed a carton
of cigarettes for the big game of shogi he and Genma were going to play
this evening.
“I’ll be going out to get some cigarettes,” he declared.
Kasumi’s face brightened even more. “That’s wonderful father! I need
to return a book to Doctor Tofu. We can walk together.”
“A splendid idea Kasumi!” Soun cried. “Let’s go.”
Kasumi called to Nabiki as they walked out the front door. “Oh Nabiki!
I left some food and some cookies out for Ranma when he finishes with the
morning lessons. Would you make sure he gets them?”
Nabiki waved good-bye to them. “Sure thing sis.”
She sat down on the deck and debated the merits of changing into a
bathing suit to get a tan. Beach Season was coming up, and it just wouldn’t
do to start her tan then. **No sense looking like tourist, even if I am one,**
she thought.
That decided she went upstairs to her room and changed into a racy
little spaghetti string number. When she came downstairs Ranma was
standing in the kitchen wolfing down the food Kasumi had left out for him.
He looked up from his meal to eye Nabiki’s appealing figure.
“Nice suit!” He complemented. “Haven’t seen that one before.”
She struck a glamour pose. “You like?”
Ranma scratched the top of his head. His hair wasn’t yet fully grown
out from his time in the army. “I’ve seen more cotton in an aspirin bottle.”
“That’s the appeal my dear Ranma,” she replied.
“You going to the beach or something?” He asked. The merits of
Nabiki in a tiny bikini notwithstanding, he told himself he was _hungry_.
He returned his attention to the food. He also didn’t want to seem like
he was _staring_ at her or anything.
“No,” she replied in a bored tone of voice. “I just thought I would
catch a little sunshine.” She looked him over from head to toe.
**Hhhmmmm.....**
He had seen that look on her face before and was about to bolt out of
the room. That look was the look of machinations that would upstage
Machiavelli. He could almost hear the wheels turning in her head. He
knew he should run.
But she was such a distracting sight in that bikini that he was trapped
like a moth before the flame. She had him.
“Oh my dear Ranma, I just got the greatest idea...”
His deerlike eyes glazed over, and he wondered when the truck was
going to hit.
* * *
“There. I think my bathing suit looks much better on you.” Nabiki said
approvingly. She was now wearing a far tamer black one piece.
A still wet Ranma-chan looked down at herself in Nabiki’s string bikini.
The thing was held up almost as much by the power of positive thinking as
it was by the straining straps. The flimsy suit’s dampness was all too
apparent in the right places.
“If this thing was any smaller it would be illegal,” Ranma-chan declared.
“What’s it made out of? Cheesecloth?”
“Well I admit that you aren’t actually supposed to go swimming with it.”
Nabiki said by way of apology. “But getting you wet was the only way to
bring out the woman in you.”
“Ha. Ha. Ha...”
“Oh stop whining about it. For once I’ll owe _you_ a favor.”
Ranma-chan looked herself over again. “I’m not sure it’s worth it.
Now what do you want me to do again?”
* * *
Ferguson made another sweep with his beta/gamma radiac. He’d
covered most of Nerima after gathering up the day’s data tapes. Copies
of those tapes were being sent to London via satellite to be compiled by
supercomputer. Ferguson would begin his own calculations tonight after
dinner. His predictions were usually closer to observed data (if much
slower in coming), a fact which he took great pride in.
He was just making his last sweep when he saw the most beautiful
red haired girl saunter by in the skimpiest little bikini he’d ever seen. He
blinked a few times to make sure he wasn’t seeing things. **This just
doesn’t happen in quiet Tokyo suburbs, does it?**
Ranma-chan grinned coyly for him.
Ferguson set down his radiac.
“<Excuse me love, but have I seen you here before?>”
Ranma-chan smiled as she spoke. “<Oh I don’t think so, but I have
seen you around.>”
Ferguson was delighted to find that this red haired vixen spoke
passable English. He didn’t know of many Japanese girls with red hair,
but he wasn’t complaining either.
“<Well, I’m just doing a little research, that’s all.>”
“<Are you American?>” Ranma-chan asked, laying it on thick.
“<Um, no. I’m British actually.>”
Ranma-chan looked even more enthused. “<Even better!>” She cried.
She then looked him over, trying to discern just exactly what it was he was
doing before she had bounced up to him.
“<Is there something wrong?>” Ferguson asked, a little confused at
what she was doing.
Ranma-chan cranked up the charm another notch. “<Oh I was just
wondering what kind of research you were doing.>” She batted her lashes
at him. “<That’s all.>” **I can’t believe Nabiki talked me into this!** She
thought bitterly. **Then again, it wouldn’t be the first time...**
Ferguson picked up the radiac, which clicked a few times as stray
gamma rays interacted with the ion chamber. “<I’m surveying background
radiation from cosmic rays,>” he said to her. “<I’m picking up a little from
the rocks in the ground, and a little from the long-lived decay daughters
that the Korean nuke’s fallout created, but most of the radiation is coming
from the sun.>”
Ranma-chan managed a blush while gesturing to her scantily clad self.
“<Gee, I guess I don’t have a lot of protection from that!>” She gushed.
**Gods I can’t believe I said that!**
Ferguson stifled a grin. He just couldn’t believe such a saucy lass as
this could exist here in quiet Nerima!
Ranma-chan’s coy smile evaporated in an instant as she heard a voice
she hadn’t in six months.
“Oh Pig-Tailed Girl! How I’ve longed to see thee!” Tatewaki Kuno
cried.
Ranma-chan turned with infinite resignation to have Kuno sweep her
up into his arms. He looked as healthy and whole as he ever was. His
grip was certainly strong enough.
“Oh my love!” He continued. “Long have I languished without thy
hale glow to sustain me! Oh the Heavens weep with joy to behold our
reunion!”
Ranma-chan gave him a wan smile. On the one hand she was happy
to see Kuno looking well since his near fatal wounding. On the other hand,
his hands were trying for places they just didn’t belong.
“Oh Kuno darling?” She asked sweetly.
Kuno’s eyes went dewy at the Pig-Tailed Girl’s ardor. “Yes my love?”
Ranma-chan head butted him as hard as she could. Kuno dropped like
a rock, managing to set Ranma-chan gently on her feet before falling over
face first.
**What a soft head. Good thing he never got shot there...** Ranma
thought as Kuno blacked out.
Ferguson had by this time excused himself with all possible haste.
Ranma-chan looked around in vain for him. Kuno snored at her feet.
She balled her hands up into fists and growled to the sky, “I can’t
believe I went through all this for nothing!”
Kuno continued to snore unconsciously. Ranma-chan sighed and
picked him up into her arms. As long as he stayed out cold things would
be okay.
Her tiny bikini top chose this moment to finally give.
* * *
Nabiki suppressed a grin when she saw Ranma-chan come home
carrying Tatewaki Kuno in her arms. When she saw that Ranma had lost
her bikini top, her laughs came full force. Ranma-chan shot her a death
look and then dropped Kuno to the floor. She stormed upstairs for hot
water and a change of clothes.
Nabiki continued to chuckle as Ranma-chan stumped up the stairs.
Kuno began to stir, and she helped him to his feet.
“Uhhh... Where am I?” Kuno asked dazedly.
“Why hello Kuno-baby!” Nabiki purred.
Kuno looked at her for a moment in confusion. “Nabiki Tendo, I do
not recall inviting you to my domicile.”
“That’s because this is _my_ domicile,” Nabiki countered.
Kuno gave the home another look. “Why so it is,” he observed sagely.
“Tell me Nabiki, how is it that I have come to this humble place?”
Nabiki shrugged. “Well gee Kuno-baby, the Pig-Tailed Girl brought
you here. You were out cold in her arms!” She could just imagine Ranma
wincing at her words upstairs, and it brought another grin to her lips.
Tears began to well at Kuno’s eyes. “Oh my beloved!” He cried.
“Her devotion to me is selfless beyond measure! How worthy she is of my
affections!”
He took Nabiki roughly by the shoulders and shook her.
“Tell me Nabiki Tendo, wither the Pig-Tailed Girl?”
Nabiki’s head bobbed back and forth as he shook her.
“Answer me woman! Stand not before the mighty Tatewaki Kuno and
his heart’s desire!”
Nabiki mustered the strength to bring her fist into communion with
Kuno’s glass jaw. The swordsman once again sought the refuge of
oblivion’s embrace. As he buckled at her feet she shook her head sadly.
“You are absolutely hopeless Kuno-baby.”
Ranma came downstairs wearing his red satin Chinese-style shirt
and black trousers. He brushed at his still wet hair, flicking his black pig-
tail over his back. It was obvious that he was upset with Nabiki, but he
helped her carry Kuno out of the foyer and into the living room.
Nabiki was undaunted by his ire. “So? What did you find out?”
Ranma gave her a black look. “Well I found out that Kuno’s as
pompous and lecherous a jerk as always!”
Nabiki brushed him away with both hands. “No. No. Before that.”
He grit his teeth, biting back a few choicer curses. “Well your mystery
man is British,” he began.
“I knew that already. What else?”
Ranma tried a little harder to restrain himself. “Well he’s also
checkin’ the neighborhood for radiation. He had this Geiger counter or
something in his hand.”
“That’s odd,” Nabiki remarked. “What does that have to do with
power lines?”
“You tell me,” Ranma said idly.
“Well what else?”
Ranma lowered his eyes in disgust. “I was just getting him to tell me
what he was doing when Kuno showed up.”
Nabiki nodded. “I can guess what happened from there.”
Ranma looked to Kuno’s unconscious form. “Exactly. He squeezed
me so hard your bathing suit’s top snapped its straps.”
Nabiki winced. “That was an expensive little item,” she said to herself.
Ranma began to back away. “Aw come on, how could something so
small cost very much?” He said uneasily. **Just how much is this gonna
cost me?**
Nabiki read his look and dismissed it with a wave of her hand. “Don’t
worry about it Ranma. After all, I did put you up to this. You’re off the
hook.”
“Sorry I couldn’t help out more,” he offered.
“Not your fault. I’ll just have to use other angles to find out what’s
going on around here,” she replied. “Keep an eye on Kuno-baby while I
get some ice for his head.”
“Okay.”
He sat down beside Kuno and waited. For curiosity’s sake he looked at
Kuno’s belly, opening the kendoist’s gi. An oblong pink scar ran across the
man’s taut belly. He could see two small puckered scars where drainage
tubes had been run into him below the wound scar. A delicate tracery of
tattoo lines whirled around the wound scars -obviously Kuno was intending
to conceal them, but the majority of the work was incomplete.
**He’s probably having it done the old fashioned way; with bamboo
needles.**
“Oh wow,” Nabiki remarked. She was now standing over them. “Is
that where he was shot?”
Ranma looked up at her. “Yup. I thought he was a goner too.”
She knelt beside Ranma and ran her fingers over the scar on his left
arm. The first man he’d ever killed had shot him through that arm as he
fell. (A fact he was by no means proud of.) Ranma hadn’t even known
he was wounded until he awoke in Yokosuka.
“And this is where you were shot,” she said.
“Yup.”
“Maybe you should do what Kuno’s doing and have it tattooed over,”
she suggested.
Ranma shook his head slowly. “No. It’s always going to be a reminder
for me... I want it that way.” His eyes had that far away look that he
sometimes had when remembering.
Unlike some of the others Nabiki had known who had gone to Korea to
fight and had come home alive, Ranma was never a braggart about it. Even
though he was promoted in the field and wore more medals than any of the
aforementioned others, he never talked much about it. When he did it was
always about someone or something else.
She looked away. **Akane was probably the only person he would
ever open up to about his time in Korea. Ukyo too, I guess.**
“Sorry to pry,” she said. She hefted the ice pack over Kuno.
Kuno began to stir as Nabiki set a towel filled with ice atop his
forehead.
“Ahhh... Curse these fainting spells that afflict me. Mayhap my dear
sister has returned to her old ways and is trying to poison me again.”
Kasumi and Mr. Tendo returned home.
“Oh hello!” Kasumi cried in greeting to Kuno. “I had the feeling we
would have a few guests over for dinner, so I’ve already brought extra
groceries home.”
“Smart thinking sis,” Nabiki said.
Kuno held the ice pack to his head and stared hard at Ranma.
“Wither the Pig-Tailed Girl?!”
Ranma shrugged. He was never going to convince Kuno about his twin
identities, so it was just easier to play along. “Beats me Kuno. She just
delivered you here and asked us to look after you. She was gone as soon
as we turned our backs.”
Kuno nodded solemnly. “Ah my lovely. So like the wind she is...” He
struck a dramatic oratory pose.
“ ‘Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate.
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer’s lease hath all too short a date.
Sometimes too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimm’d;
And every fair from fair sometimes declines,
By chance or nature’s changing course untrimm’d;
But thy eternal summer shall not fade
Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest;
Nor shall Death brag thou wander’st in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou growest.
So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
So long lives this and this gives life to thee.’ “
“Very good!” Kasumi said happily. “I do so adore Shakespeare’s
Sonnets!”
Ranma and Nabiki looked at each other.
“Huh?” They said in unison.
“That’s my girl,” Mr. Tendo said proudly, setting his hands upon
Kasumi’s shoulders.
Kuno looked to Kasumi and bowed. “As do I milady, but do not think
me ungracious that I must beg decline to sup with thee and thy family. My
lovely wind is upon the fair skies of May and I must seek her thence.”
Soun looked to his eldest daughter. “What did he say?” He whispered.
Kasumi touched her fingertips to her lips to hide her smile. “I believe
Mister Kuno has other plans for the evening.”
“Oh. Right.”
“Farewell then!” Kuno cried, and strutted nobly out of the door.
“Oh wow Ranma, Kuno-baby was almost civil to you.” Nabiki
observed.
“Yeah, and he didn’t ask about Akane either,” Ranma added.
“I’ll be starting on dinner soon, why don’t you all watch television
while you wait?” Kasumi said cheerfully.
Nabiki started up the stairs. “I’ve got a little reading to do, see you at
dinner.”
Ranma watched Nabiki go. That left him alone with Mr. Tendo. The
last thing he wanted was quality time with Soun Tendo. Doubtless he
would broach the subject of wedded bliss.
“I’m gonna do some practicing in the dojo. I mean I’ve gotta be at my
best if I want to take over some day,” he said quickly.
Mr. Tendo nodded approvingly.
**Whew! Say just enough to keep him off my back without commiting
myself. That’s the ticket.**
He bounded off to the dojo. Tomorrow Akane would be home.
Chapter Three
“Hi Ucchan,” Ranma said as he settled into his regular seat at Ucchan’s
Okonomiyaki.
Ukyo winked at him and flipped an okonomiyaki onto a ready waiting
plate.
“Can’t talk now honey, I’m swamped,” she said happily.
Ranma looked around the shop. The place was full all right. In addition
to the regular lunch crowd there were at least twelve westerners present.
Five different languages mingled with the sounds of Ukyo’s rapid fire
cooking.
He made a low whistle.
“Well I can’t say I don’t mind the attention honey,” Ukyo replied. She
flung three more piping hot okonomiyaki with expert precision onto the
westerners’ plates. They cheered in appreciation.
“They can’t all be here to study power lines, can they?” Ranma asked.
“I don’t know; they’ve been speaking so many languages I can’t make
anything out.”
“Weird,” he said, and let it drop.
“It gets even weirder Ranchan, look who just walked in,” Ukyo advised,
gesturing with one of her spatulas.
Ranma turned around to see Nabiki walking in with Ferguson in tow.
“Hello...What is this?”
If Nabiki noticed Ranma, she made no sign. Ranma turned back around
to face Ukyo again. Ukyo shrugged and slipped over to the other side of
the counter to take their orders.
**I guess she decided to handle it herself,** Ranma thought. He ate
and dropped some money on the counter. Ukyo threw him a wave as
he got up.
“See you tonight?” She asked.
Ranma started. “Um, I’m gonna be at the train station tonight.”
Ukyo’s eyes widened. **How could I have been so stupid?**
“I meant tomorrow night,” she corrected.
“Tonight’s fine,” he said. “Just a little later than usual.”
She flashed him a ‘V’ with her fingers and got back to her customers.
* * *
Akane stepped off the train with her bags. She had sent the majority of
her things home a week earlier, which meant that Ranma wouldn’t have to
carry so much. For this he was grateful. Taxis were hard to come by in this
part of town.
“Miss me?” She asked.
“Not at all,” Ranma replied casually.
“Liar,” Akane shot back.
“You’re right,” he admitted. He swept her up into his arms and spun her
around. Akane laughed like a little girl then, although she was anything but
a little girl. Ukyo was right. Somewhere in the last three years they had
grown up. In his arms was a beautiful woman.
She saw the way he looked at her and stopped laughing. There was the
most fascinating fire in those eyes, something she thrilled to see every time
she looked. He held her gently off the ground and they drank in the sight
of each other.
Three kids ran by screaming bloody murder, which startled both out
of their reverie. They watched as the three tore off down the platform
followed by an over wrought mother. Akane chuckled to herself.
“What’s so funny about that?” He asked her.
She took his arm in hers and led him off the platform. He caught up
her bags on the move.
“Nothing, I was just thinking.”
“Anything you want to share?”
She chuckled again. “Not at the moment.”
They walked arm in arm, making small talk as they went. The birds
were singing the last arias of the day and the cherry blossoms suddenly
flurried around them with a gust of wind. The sky was starting to purple
in the east as they neared home.
“Hmmm...” Akane murmured. “It’s good to be home again.”
“It’s good to have you home,” Ranma said quietly.
Akane kissed him behind the ear, which surprised him. “It’s not home
without you.”
They passed one of Ferguson’s ubiquitous white sensor boxes. Akane
stopped Ranma short to look at it. Ranma, like the rest of the neighborhood,
had become accustomed to seeing the things and thought nothing of it.
“What on Earth is that?” Akane asked.
Ranma pointed to the box. “A bunch of gaijin scientists are here
studying the power lines. These boxes are collecting data for them. Just
wait ‘till we get home, we have one in the backyard.”
“How strange... What’s wrong with the power lines?”
“Nothing so far as I can tell.”
They reached the dojo. Soun, Kasumi, Nabiki, Genma, Nodoka and
Doctor Tofu waited for them at the gate.
“Welcome home!” Kasumi said to Akane as she caught her sister up
in a hug.
“You’re looking great!” Doctor Tofu added.
“How are you Akane?” Nodoka asked.
“I’m fine!” Akane enthused. “I think I’ve salvaged my grade point
average this semester.”
“Well if you hadn’t blown it last semester,” Ranma observed dryly.
She wrapped one arm around Nabiki and lashed the other out into
Ranma’s chin. Ranma’s head rocked back in surprise, and he fell down on
his rear end.
“I can’t imagine what could have disturbed my studies...” Akane said,
and returned her attentions to the rest of the family.
Ranma massaged his chin. **Yep. Akane’s home again.**
* * *
“All of the equipment is in place, Professor.”
McFogg looked up from his tea. “Thank you Katy.”
Katy Price offered a stack of hardcopy to him. “This is the latest
update from London. The time for the event is predicted to be the 18th
of May at 14:37 GMT.”
McFogg scanned the contents of the report.
“The location is still unchanged?”
“Yes sir. Davidge is very confident that this is an indication of our
model’s accuracy.”
“Hah,” Ferguson retorted. He entered the hotel suite through the
adjoining room door.
“You wish to discuss something, Ferguson?” McFogg said between sips.
“I would like to point out once again that there are too many unknowns
in our model that we’ve ignored to start hailing it as bloody Gospel.”
Ferguson said sternly. He poured himself a glass of Port and took a seat
across from the two.
“Don’t forget that _you_ were the one who tweaked the unknowns out
of the model to make it work,” Katy observed.
Ferguson shook his head. “You’re reading far too much into this Katy
dear. What I did for the equations was simplify them into something we
could use as a barometer for these events. The model is just a general
forecaster. The more we use it, the more the accumulating errors will
throw us off. We’ll end up in Turkey like Casimir’s group.”
“Then what do you suggest we do with the model? Revise it again?
We don’t have time for that!” Katy protested.
“I agree,” McFogg added. “I think it wouldn’t be a disaster to continue
to use our model at least for now.” He looked at Ferguson, who was
shaking his head. “How are your corrections coming? I know you’ve been
working on them in your off time.”
Ferguson sighed. “I’ve worked most of the terms out so far. I can fax
them to London tonight if you like, but all it will really do for the model is
shore up the walls while the foundation continues to crumble.”
McFogg leaned over to pat Ferguson’s knee. “I understand your
concerns lad, but at the moment the model is the best we have. We simply
don’t have the time to start over from scratch. It’s another 88 years to
the next big one.”
* * *
An old man in his late sixties sat by the window of his comfortable old
world hotel room. The heat of Istanbul in the late spring was rising with
noon. Soon the Muezzin would be calling the faithful to prayer and then
a short nap before life picked up again in the city at nightfall.
The man listened to vibrant classical music playing from a compact
disc player purchased in Singapore on his journeys.
“I thought Glière went out of fashion with the Second Revolution,” a
young man observed in Russian.
The old man shook his finger slightly at the young man. “Beauty
never goes out of fashion,” he replied. “You young people make too
free an association between Reinhold and the State. Besides I find his
opera ‘Shakh-Senem’ very appropriate music for this land we are in.”
The young man pulled a heavy manila envelope from a leather attaché.
“I have the results from our observations Doctor Casimir.”
Grigory Andreiyevich Casimir took out a pair of wire frame bifocals and
put them on. A cup of black-as-tar Turkish coffee steamed at the end table
next to the elderly scientist. Casimir disdained the way the Turks sweetened
their coffee to point of syrup, but he appreciated their habit of boiling it
down to tar.
“And...?” Casimir asked. He really wasn’t reading the report. His eyes
instead watched the patterns of steam wafting from the cup. **Such beauty
there in that random steam...To think that some young Cossacks want to
reduce it all to math and call it ‘God in the Machine’.**
“It appears we have recorded a harmonic of a previous event,” the
man replied.
Casimir nodded sadly and took a sip from his coffee.
“You are quite sure, Vanya?”
Ivan Tarchenko returned his nod. “Yes doctor. I have checked the
data again and again personally. We have recorded a delayed harmonic
from the Vaslow Event.”
“Unfortunate,” Casimir replied quietly.
“Yes doctor,” Ivan offered. “At this point it seems as if our model has
a significant error or series of errors. The team in St. Petersburg is already
rechecking their calculations, but they need more access time on the
American supercomputers. There isn’t much left in the budget for computer
time.”
“Do not fret Vanya, the money will come along.”
“It’s not the money, doctor. It’s the lost time. We have none to spare
and now we are without a valid reference point for the next event.”
Casimir thought for a moment.
“Where is my old friend Balthazar right now?” He asked.
“His team is in Japan, a suburb of Tokyo. We thought he was crazy
because our model didn’t come close to predicting Tokyo in any of the
simulations we ran. Perhaps if we had more computer time...”
Casimir stood up, feeling his tired bones creak. “This is not a game of
computers Vanya. This is far more intuitive than any machine can divine.”
He walked over to the window and the ancient Istanbul skyline. “I should
have been more active in this.”
“What was that, doctor?” Ivan asked.
Casimir shook his head. “We need to get back on track, Vanya.
Perhaps we can beg some scraps from Balthazar’s table.”
“I don’t think Professor McFogg will be very charitable this close to the
end. He has been working for this moment for a very long time.”
“We started this together, Balthazar and I. Fifty years of our lives spent
chasing this dream. More if you count what our fathers accomplished... and
failed.”
“You are referring to 1908, doctor?”
“I am. It is of particular distress that the previous event took place on
Russian soil and still we failed.”
“Perhaps our time had not yet come Doctor Casimir,” Ivan said.
“Yes... Perhaps.”
“I shall dispatch Fyodor to Japan.”
Casimir raised a bushy eyebrow. “That is bit heavy handed, don’t you
think? ‘The Ukrainian’ was appropriate for Stalin’s time, but not now.”
“We have no one else directly available doctor. We have no time to
delay in sending a request to Moscow.”
“Yes. Yes. The Old State is gone but the beauracracy is eternal. Send
Fyodor, but make it clear that he is to restrain himself.”
“Yes doctor.”
Chapter Four
Akane breathed in the delightful perfume of the cherry blossoms and
sighed happily. Today was a beautiful morning, calm and cool. The sun
darted between puffy banks of cumulous clouds, throwing great lazy
shadows against the bright rooftops and walls of the city.
She was waiting for Ranma to finish with the morning classes and join
her for lunch. Ukyo hadn’t come over to visit last night, and she wanted
to at least stop in to the restaurant and say hello to her. She could use the
company.
**_I_ could use the company,** Akane thought suddenly. **Nerima’s
such a quiet place now.**
She walked to the vacant lot where she was to meet Ranma.
Ferguson’s boxes, as they were now being called, were arranged in a
grid pattern across the entire lot. Each white box stood atop it’s tripod
exactly ten meters apart from the others. Fiber-optic cable runs linked
each sensor to a small black case. The case had a large fiber-optic bundle
that ran to the far end of the lot and into a large white van trailer. No
less than three different satellite receiver/transmitters were deployed
around the trailer, and the smell of burning gasoline from a large
electric generator overwhelmed the cherry blossom air.
**What the heck is going on here?** She wondered.
Inside the van Ferguson was showing Nabiki the equipment and
displays. Her curiosity seemed harmless enough, and he figured if he
dazzled her with all of the technology, he wouldn’t have to go into too
much detail about the purpose behind it. She was a smart one though,
and had subtlely pressed her questions home. He wasn’t sure if he could
continue the run-around for much longer.
**Either I spill my guts or I kick her out right now...** He thought.
“<So this is the composite display for magnetic flux,>” he said,
pointing to one of the large flat LCD screens. “<All of the magnetic
anomaly sensors are linked to a computer which processes the data,
filters out our established baseline levels, and displays the new variances
as colored pixels on the screen.>”
The display was mostly blacks, purples and dark blues.
“<As you can see, magnetic field strengths are very close to the
established baseline levels we took earlier this week. If levels dropped
lower, we would see grayscale colors for negative levels, and if they were
higher we would see more greens, yellows, and oranges for positive
levels.>”
“<So what does this have to do with the power lines again?>” Nabiki
asked him.
Ferguson sighed. **Ah what the hell. She’ll never believe me anyway.**
“<We had to take data on the magnetic fields generated by electrical
lines and from electrical appliances in the neighborhood to establish our
baseline levels. Power consumptions change during the day and night, and
so we had to compile the whole baseline in a time-indexed fashion.>”
“<In short...?>” Nabiki made circling motions with her hand to get him
directly to the point.
“<In short this experiment has little to do with power lines,>” Ferguson
admitted.
“<So then what exactly are you looking for?>” Nabiki asked. “<It has
to be small because I know our power lines don’t generate strong magnetic
fields.>”
Ferguson took a sip of tepid coffee. “<We’re looking for very localized
disturbances in the Earth’s magnetic fields.>”
Nabiki pointed outside. “<Perhaps as small as this lot?>”
“<Something like that, yes.>”
One of the instrument banks chirped for attention. Ferguson looked
over to the Magnetic Field Flux Display. A small violet blotch of color
moved towards the center of the screen and stopped.
“<What’s that?>” Nabiki asked.
Ferguson punched a few commands onto a keypad. Another screen
began scrolling alphanumerics which he analyzed.
“<Someone’s standing out in the middle of the lot.>” He said evenly.
Nabiki walked to the front of the trailer and looked out of the window.
She laughed briskly.
“<Oh don’t worry Fergy baby, it’s just my sister!>”
“<What?>”
“<It’s just my little sister Akane. She’s probably waiting for Ranma.>”
Ferguson eyes lit in recognition. “<Ranma’s that martial artist fellow
who’s staying with you at the dojo? Your sister Kasumi told me a little
about him.>”
Nabiki turned pale. “<Oh yeah...? Just what exactly did she tell you
about Ranma?>” **I hope he doesn’t know about Ranma’s curse or the
jig is up!**
“<Just that he’s the son of a friend of your father, and that he’s engaged
to your sister. I presume that would be the very same Akane who’s tripping
my sensors right now.>”
Nabiki was quick to change the subject. “<Um, she isn’t ruining your
experiment is she?>”
“<No. The event we’re looking for isn’t predicted to occur for another
three days. We’re just fine tuning the baseline for this particular location
right now.>”
Akane sat down in the grass and studied the Ferguson’s boxes. Each
sat there peacefully, doing heaven knew what. The tinny shrill you
sometimes hear when a TV set is on could be heard if you concentrated.
**I hope this isn’t cooking me or something.**
Ranma appeared at the far end of the lot and started walking towards
her. She waved to him. He waved back. He had that fresh glow of sweat
on his face and arms that told her he had just concluded the day’s lessons
and come straight here.
She offered him her hands, and he pulled her to her feet.
“<Here comes another one.>” One of the three researchers on duty in
the trailer announced. The display now showed a larger violet blotch in
the center.
Nabiki looked out the window. “<Here’s Ranma!>”
“You could have at least bathed after the lessons,” Akane scolded.
“You said to come and meet you here as soon as I could get away,”
Ranma retorted.
“I was going to suggest lunch at Ucchan’s, but you can’t go in there all
sweaty and smelly.”
Ranma sniffed his armpit. “Who’s smelly?”
Akane threw up her hands and was about to slug him.
Inside the trailer, alarms began to wail.
“<What the hell?!>” One of the men, named Ames, cried.
Ferguson checked the monitors. Bright blotches of color began to form
and swirl around the center where the violet spot shifted colors to green,
then yellow. Other displays began scrolling column after column of data,
and printers began spewing reams of hardcopy.
“<It’s starting!>” He cried. He’d seen the patterns that were emerging
on the displays before.
“<It’s too goddamn soon for this!>” Another tech cursed.
“<Get on the bloody phone and get McFogg down here now!>”
Ferguson yelled back. “<Tell him it’s the real thing! Everyone else get those
recorders going!>”
“<All drives on line and recording! Patching direct to London!>” A third
tech called out.
Nabiki looked dumbfounded as the four scientists scrambled about the
trailer calling up displays and tape drives and loading fresh reams of paper
into the printers. Nobody paid any attention to her as they shifted into
overdrive. She looked out the window at Ranma and Akane, who looked
like they were about to fight.
“You’re so damn thickheaded!” Akane yelled.
“_I’m_ thickheaded?!”
“_Yeah!_”
“<Jesus, Mary, and Joseph! This one’s gonna be huge!>” The tech
manning the gravitic anomaly instruments cried.
The patterns of colored light on the magnetic field flux display became
a torrent of bright oranges and yellows. In the center was an angry red
blotch of intensity. Ranma and Akane were right in the center of the
center.
“<I’m getting full scalar transients along our other remote sensors!
The lines are opening up!>” Ferguson announced.
“<There’s six of them!>” Ames concurred.
“<That’s impossible!>” The second tech rebuked. “<Scanner artifact
maybe.>”
“<I’m watching them unfold right now; if it isn’t six lines than we’re
reading a really fucked up harmonic!>” Ferguson cried. **How was this
happening now? Was the model even farther off than my calculations
predict?**
Nabiki was frozen in place watching Ranma and Akane argue. The sky
outside was calm and sunny. There were no earthquakes or lightning or
gods knew what else should be happening the way the researchers were
carrying on.
“Not only are you thickheaded, but you’re insensitive and selfish!”
Akane cried in a loud voice.
“Yeah I’m so insensitive that I walked all the way to the train station
last night to get you and carried your luggage all the way home!”
“You were just trying to get on my good side last night!”
“If that’s all you think of me...!” He didn’t finish because his spine was
beginning to tingle in the most odd way.
“What?!” Akane shouted back. “You’re going to go home to your
parents?!”
Ranma grit his teeth. “WELL EXCUSE ME FOR LOVING YOU!!!”
He bellowed at the top of his lungs.
Akane’s eyes went wide.
Ferguson clenched his fists and rose out of his chair. The display was
an angry storm of electromagnetic fields swirling around the center of the
vacant lot. Colors were nothing but yellows, reds and in the center the
purest white.
“<Almost here...Coming...Coming...Coming...>”
Outside in the vacant lot time seemed to stop. Ranma and Akane
looked in each other’s eyes for an eternity. All of their anger was gone,
siphoned right out of them. In it’s place were emotions far stronger and
enduring.
“<CLIMAX!!!>” Ferguson shouted, raising his fists on high. “<OH
YEEEAAAAHHH!!!>”
A sudden gust of wind came out of nowhere, swirling around Ranma
and Akane for just a second. The wind seemed to lift their spirits higher,
drawing them both up onto their tip toes with joy. Ranma was only dimly
aware that he was taking Akane into his embrace. Akane fell into his arms
with an urgency she had never felt before.
“<That’s all gentlemen,>” Ferguson announced as the sensors stopped
chirping and the displays shifted back to blacks and dark blues. Printers
ceased their sawing away and tape drives stopped. The trailer fell eerily
silent.
That silence was broken a moment later when the assembled
researchers let out a collective cheer and began shaking hands and patting
each other on the back.
Ferguson made his way past the others when they were done
congratulating each other and stepped up next to Nabiki, who was staring
wistfully out the window. Ferguson noted what the woman before him
was looking at. Outside, in the center of the lot, Ranma and Akane were
engaged in a deep and passionate kiss.
“They’re just so adorable together,” Nabiki sighed.
Ranma and Akane broke from their kiss and drank in the light of the
other’s eyes. Their hearts fluttered and their faces burned red. They’d
never kissed like that before. Neither could even remember what they were
arguing about just minutes earlier.
Nabiki and Ferguson stepped out of the van trailer along with two
other westerners. Nabiki was all smiles. The men were armed with a
dazzling array of hand held instruments, and began taking readings of who
knew what.
“All right you two!” Nabiki crowed.
Ranma and Akane flushed a deeper shade of red.
Nabiki slugged Ranma on the arm. “Way to go Romeo. I always knew
you had it in you.”
“Umm, what? Huh?” Ranma floundered.
“Don’t deny it Ranma, I saw the whole thing.”
“Nabiki! What were you doing spying on us?!” Akane demanded.
“Yeah!” Ranma added, now suddenly coherent.
“I wasn’t spying. Mr. Ferguson was just showing me around their little
research setup and you two arrived. By the way, I think you two were
standing right in the middle of whatever it was they were looking for.”
“Huh?” Ranma and Akane both replied.
“You two don’t feel funny or anything do you? The way they carried
on in the trailer I thought a bolt of lightning was going to hit you.”
Ferguson came up to them and ran some kind of sensor over and
around them.
“<Kirlian’s normal,>” he called to one of the others.
“<I found a ‘cold spot’,>” the other man replied. He had a portable
digital thermometer in his hand. “<About twelve degrees centigrade cooler
than ambient, I walked right into it.>”
Ferguson joined him. He immediately sucked in his breath and shivered.
“<I see what you mean.>”
A bevy of rented white minivans raced up to the lot and more
westerners jumped out carrying armloads of gear. They began to survey
the lot for everything from ambient temperature to gamma radiation to
relative humidity. One stood close by with a small magnetic compass,
which spun crazily for a full ten minutes before righting itself in relationship
to the magnetic north pole.
Professor Balthazar McFogg stepped out of another minivan, flanked by
Katy Price. Ferguson ran over to them with an armload of hardcopy.
“You aren’t going to believe this,” he said.
“I’m having a hard time believing it now,” McFogg answered. “You’re
sure this was it?”
“Just look at this,” Ferguson said, holding out printouts by the ream.
McFogg took half of the pile and Katy the other half.
“Six lines opened up today Professor,” he declared.
“The model only predicted three,” Katy protested.
“You’re aware of my opinions on the model,” Ferguson shot back. “If
anything this event is more proof of the model’s shortcomings than
anything Davidge and his computer clowns can muster in it’s defense.”
“I’m afraid he’s correct, Katy.” McFogg said calmly. He showed her a
few pages of hardcopy. “Six lines opened up at this nexus.”
“Does London have all of this?” Katy asked.
“We just barely managed to get the links up in time,” Ferguson
answered. “Let them plug in the numbers all they want, but I don’t think
any predictions the model comes up with will be near the mark. This event
was much bigger and days earlier than predicted.”
“But it was still right on the mark for location,” Katy rebuffed.
Ferguson didn’t have any ready answers for that argument, but he still
wasn’t convinced. “Today proves that there are factors we aren’t taking
into account. Factors we can’t identify, let alone understand. The errors
are going to keep piling up! Maybe we get close again the next time, but
what about after that?”
“Then we keep adding in correction factors from the new data we
compile,” Katy replied coolly.
“Put in those ‘correction factors’ and you’re still bailing out a sinking
ship with a bloody teaspoon!”
McFogg let them argue for a few minutes while he surveyed the lot. A
whole crowd of locals clustered at the edge of the lot, and even now two
little police scooters were arriving to keep the crowds back. However in the
middle of the lot two young ladies and a young man were being questioned
and surveyed by his research team.
“Ferguson!” he called in a loud voice that cut the argument short.
“Yes Professor?”
“Who are those three kids over there?”
Ferguson looked at Nabiki, Ranma, and Akane. “Oh, those three. The
young man is named Ranma Saotome, the two ladies are sisters; Nabiki and,
um, Akane Tendo. It appears Ranma and Akane were standing right in the
center of the nexus when it opened up.”
“Why didn’t you tell me this right away?” McFogg asked. He turned to
the minivan he had arrived in and beckoned the driver to get out and join
him.
Ranma couldn’t believe all these people were making such a big deal
out of himself and Akane. They waved all manner of technology around
them; the clicking and chattering and beeping was getting on his nerves.
He felt fine and said as much to them when they asked in their broken
Japanese.
Ferguson he saw was talking to an older man, in his late sixties by the
look of him. He was a little heavyset, but seemed in good health. A large
ashwood pipe dangled from his lips. Next to him a willowy blonde was
arguing with Ferguson.
The old man next looked right at them and then to Ferguson. They
exchanged words and then the old man looked in the opposite direction
to the minivans.
“What the heck is going on, Ranma?” Akane asked.
“Oh man I don’t believe it,” he replied.
“Oh man, I don’t believe it! Hey Saotome!” Hiro Ohata cried.
He ran past McFogg and company and joined Ranma, Akane and
Nabiki.
“Man I _thought_ this place looked a little familiar! If I’d have known
sooner I woulda stopped by!” Hiro said as he grabbed Ranma’s hand and
shook it vigorously.
“What are you doing with these guys Hiro?” Ranma asked. “And where
the hell’d you disappear to after New Years?”
Hiro brought up his hands in defense. “It’s a really long story,” he
pleaded. “But hey enough about me, you’re looking good Saotome!”
He gave Akane the once over.
“You too Akane-chan!”
Akane blushed a little.
He looked them both over now as they stood side by side. His eyes
narrowed in concentration.
“Hey waitaminute!” He cried.
“What?” They both answered in unison.
Hiro grabbed their left hands and held them up. “What the hell is this,
man?”
“What?” They repeated.
Hiro shook their hands in his. “Where’re the rings?!”
“What rings?!” They cried.
Nabiki began to laugh.
“The _wedding rings?!_” Hiro retorted. “I thought you two were a
done deal!”
Nabiki’s laughter nearly brought her to tears. “Bravo, Hiro! You’ve
summed up my sentiments exactly!” She managed between gasps of
breath and melodious laughter.
Ranma and Akane could have boiled water with the heat that radiated
from their faces.
Hiro had to step back from all that radiant heat lest he be broiled. “Oh
let me guess, you’re planning on a June Wedding! How silly of me, I
should have known better. That Saotome romantic streak in you wouldn’t
settle for anything less.”
Nabiki fell over laughing this time.
Chapter Five
With Hiro Ohata translating, Professor McFogg asked them a few more
questions; but other than a little gust of wind, neither felt anything strange
happen. They didn’t mention the sudden overriding urge to kiss each other.
Even if it was the man’s business (which it wasn’t) he probably would have
dismissed it. There was also the matter of being terribly self conscious about
the whole thing.
Even as soon as the rest of the scientists had arrived, they began packing
up their equipment and leaving. Hiro said they would be moving on to gods
knew where soon enough. It would be good to see them go and let the
neighborhood alone.
Hiro now relaxed in the company of the Tendos and the Saotomes back
at the house. Kasumi brought the men a round of beers and left them a plate
of sandwiches to snack on. Nabiki had taken Akane upstairs to talk about
something.
“So tell me what happened to you after you left,” Ranma pressed. He
was glad to see his friend, but he wanted some answers. Hiro’s
disappearance was a shock when it came. He left no explanation.
“Well... It was after New Year’s and I guess I felt my welcome was
about worn out. Ryoga was talking about some great journey, but I
figured anything out of direct sight was a big deal for him. And I still
had no idea what the hell I was going to do with my life. I was a ronin
before I got drafted and a ronin I would be after I got out. So I took a
long walk with Ryoga.”
He took a sip of his beer. “Before you know I end up losing Ryoga
outside of Nagasaki. I looked for him for awhile, but I figured he just
wanted to be alone anyway. Me, I was kinda sick of Japan. I wanted to
see the world.”
“What brought this on?” Ranma asked.
“Well it wasn’t much, but being in the army and going to Korea
kinda got me started. I guessed things would be a little more enjoyable
if the locals weren’t trying to kill me. So I got on a tramp freighter and
headed south.”
“I thought you got seasick.”
Hiro made a face. “Boy do I ever. Worst trip of my life, but it got
me out of Japan for nothing. I even got a decent wage and earned my
Able-Bodied tickets on the trip. I saw Thailand, Singapore, Burma and
finally Australia. I left the ship in Brisbane and made my way to Surfer’s
Paradise.”
“Why there?”
“Because my friend, in Surfer’s Paradise in March is the annual
IndyCarnival! I finagled my way into the semi-pro stock race. Just little
stuff really, cars that are actually straight off the production lines. I won
hands down.”
“No way!” Ranma replied. Even Genma and Soun set aside their game
of shogi to listen to Hiro’s tale.
Undaunted, Hiro pulled out his wallet and showed them the photo of
himself accepting a trophy and a kiss from a bikini clad girl. A garland of
flowers was around his neck and he stood in front of a black 300ZX.
“Wow,” Ranma said, clearly impressed.
“Was there any doubt?” Hiro said smugly. “So anyways I get these
offers to drive for the AUSCAR circuit and even one for a NASCAR
team. (They were putting on an exhibition race there.) That’s when I ran
into Professor McFogg. He was looking for an all around ‘Man Friday’
as he called it. He promised a good salary, lots of travel with expenses
paid, what more could a wanderer like me ask for?”
Ranma smiled at his friend’s good fortune. “Sounds like you’ve got
what you wanted out of life.”
“For the moment,” Hiro replied. “You look like things are kinda going
your way too.”
“More or less,” Ranma admitted.
“So just what are these scientists looking for?” Nabiki asked. She and
Akane had come downstairs to join them. Kasumi and Nodoka stepped in
from the kitchen with another plate full of snacks.
Hiro helped himself. “It’s kinda strange really. I wish I had a stronger
math and science background, but that’s neither here nor there. In short
they’re running around the world trying to be there when some kind of
electromagnetic disturbance happens. They record all the data and send it
off to London to be crunched on by a supercomputer. The computer tells
them when and where the next disturbance will be. Of late though some of
the scientists are arguing about how accurate the computer is.
“They aren’t the only ones either. There’s a Russian group trying the
same thing, and I’ve heard rumors about others. That’s also one of the
reasons why I’m Professor McFogg’s Man Friday.”
“Oh yeah?” Nabiki asked.
Hiro withdrew a SigArms P-220 from his coat pocket. The .45 caliber
semiauto pistol was totally illegal in Japan, a fact that wasn’t lost on the
others.
“Oh my!” Kasumi cried.
“Put that thing away,” Ranma said calmly.
“Sorry,” Hiro apologized. “Sometimes things get a little sticky in some
of the places we go.” he replaced the pistol in his pocket.
“Oh, do you have to go so soon?” Kasumi asked sweetly.
Nabiki yawned. “It’s one o’clock in the morning Kasumi.”
Hiro shrugged. “Well I do have a plane to catch tomorrow. It’s back to
London for awhile.”
Ranma slugged him in the arm. “Howzabout keeping in touch for a
change?”
Hiro rubbed at his arm. “Okay. Okay.” He pulled out his wallet again
and handed him a card.
Ranma looked at it. “What’s this?”
“That’s my personal card. It has my international voice-mail number
on it. Just call this number and leave your message. I’m usually on the
go, so I don’t have any permanent residence. I’ll call or write when I
can.”
Ranma took his hand and shook it. “You better.”
Hiro threw him a crooked smile. “You better send me an invite to the
wedding. You know what I had to go through to get your sorry ass home
to her.”
“Hah!” Ranma retorted.
“What are you two talking about?” Akane demanded. She had just
come outside to catch the tail end of Hiro’s remark.
“A story for another time my dear,” Hiro replied. “Gotta go! Thanks
for everything!” He jumped into a minivan and drove out of sight.
“And then he drove out of our lives...” Nabiki said with another yawn.
End of Part One
Well, that was Part One. I plan to wrap this up about Part Ten or so,
but please don't get intimidated by this story's length. I mean to keep it a
quick and interesting read.
Special Thanks go to Dizzy, Yoshio, Deranged Gear, Russel-chan,
Gator, The Colonel, Grendel, and Ranchan for their support and criticism.
And my thanks also go out to Papa Bear and the rest of the Fission Park
staff, and to the Temple Of The Island King itself for not breaking down
very often. Time spent fixing steam leaks or replacing mechanical seals
on pumps is time not spent writing.
P.S. Typing in the middle of 'angles and dangles' really sucks!
Fission Park Press: Ask for us by name or we’ll dump reactor coolant on
your head!
Free The Nukes!