-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
Synopsis:
A scientific experiment in Nerima has disastrous consequences
for Ranma and Akane. Their ki’s are disrupted, causing them to
lose their martial arts focus, and giving them nightmares when they
sleep. Doctor Tofu recommends that they remain in close proximity,
as their ki’s are skewed in opposite respects to each other. Together
they are balanced and whole.
They fly to England to meet with the scientists and their leader
Professor Balthazar McFogg in order to find a more permanent
solution to their problem.
Ukyo, Nabiki, and Tatewaki Kuno are abducted by Russian agents
working for a former KGB agent named Ivan Tarchenko. Tarchenko
is part of a Russian team researching the same ‘magnetic disturbances’
as the English. Kuno breaks them free, and they flee into the forests
of the Ukraine with Tarchenko’s men in pursuit.
Ranma and Akane are treated to dinner on the Thames by
McFogg. While Akane proceeds to get drunk, Ranma runs into
Anazali. Anazali offers little more than questions before
disappearing into thin air. Following the unusual occurrences at
dinner, a romantic interlude between Ranma and Akane is interrupted
by the arrival of Heironymous Durango and his Catalina PBY.
Durango and his partner fly McFogg and Company to the megalithic
site of Maes Howe on Orkney Island, Scotland for the next event.
Nabiki, Ukyo, and Kuno continue their flight from Tarchenko
and his henchmen across the southern Ukrainian hills. Ukyo falls
ill, and Kuno must carry her as Tarchenko’s men close in on them.
Part Five:
Propositions
Chapter One
“They seem to be headed west towards the Dniester River,”
Fyodor said over his radio.
Tarchenko took Fyodor’s report from Sevastopol’, the Maritime
Patrol base jutting out into the Black Sea. The blast of a ship’s whistle
sounded close by; a Udaloy cruiser of the Black Sea Fleet putting to
sea.
“If they cross the river they can get into Moldavia. We might lose
them there,” Tarchenko observed. Moldavia wanted nothing to do
with the Russian Federation, and the old KGB Station House had
been thrown out. He had few if any contacts that could help him there,
and sending his own men would only arouse suspicion.
“I have men in Tiraspol watching the border entry points,” Fyodor
replied.
Tarchenko nodded. He had patrols sweeping along the Romanian
and Bulgarian coasts and even just off Turkish waters outside of
Istanbul. If they tried to escape by boat they would try to make landfall
along there, and if they tried to make for the Aegean Sea, his men
would catch them at the narrow strait between Istanbul and Üsküdar.
“They will not get far Ivan Mikhailyvich,” Fyodor assured. “My
men have their trail. It is a simple matter of time.”
“I hope so Fyodor Gennadiyvich. I do hope so.”
Tarchenko cut off his radio with a click of static. Fyodor grunted
a curse and stowed his radio on his belt. Their tracker Nicolai motioned
for him to come over.
He did so. Nicolai rubbed his fingers beneath Fyodor’s nose. A sour
slightly foul odor tickled his senses.
“So Colya, you have called me over to smell the urine of some
woodland creature?” Fyodor scowled.
“This beast walks upon two legs,” Nicolai replied. “It is but half a
day old. They camped here for the night. Over there is their attempt to
make a fire. Pity that they failed.”
“Yes, then we might have found them sooner.”
Nicolai nodded. “No matter. They aren’t far, and they are making
no attempts to cover their tracks.”
Fyodor grunted in agreement and consulted a topo map.
“Where do you think they are headed?” He asked Nicolai. “If you
were a Japanese fugitive in a strange land and were pursued by men
who sought your death, where would you go?”
Nicolai looked at the map. “Are you assuming that they have no
idea where they are?”
“It would be logical. They were sedated for the flight from Japan.”
Nicolai clicked his tongue for a few moments in thought. “It’s a
moot question. We know they are headed west.”
“But why west? What is prompting them to move west?”
“Perhaps they think they can make the journey into Central
Europe and find help. Who knows? I think they are three frightened
youths and are just running.”
Fyodor grunted again. “I see. Let us continue the hunt then, Colya.
The helicopter should be returning within the hour, and we can send
them ahead of us to search.”
Nicolai nodded and signaled his men to form up again. The seven
of them were all Ukrainians; men familiar with the local terrain. At
times they poached game and at others they ran errands for the KGB
across the borders into then nominal Soviet puppet states like
Romania and Bulgaria. Two had recently been ‘advisors’ to Serbian
forces in nearby Bosnia/Herzegovina. All were ‘blooded’; in fact they
were quite merciless killers.
They were dressed out in hunting fatigues and packs. Several of
them carried bolt action rifles at sling arms to keep up the appearance
of a game hunting party. They spoke little as they marched, keeping
their eyes to the ground for signs of their quarrys’ trail. When they
did speak it was in Ukrainian; since Misha’s death and Dmitri’s
crippling, there were no more Russians in their party. Tarchenko
didn’t count as he was their employer, and in any event, he wasn’t
around.
“I want them by this evening Nicolai,” Fyodor advised as they
marched deeper into the woods.
Nicolai knew better than to object to the huge man at his side.
Instead he kept his silence. Early the next morning seemed a more
likely estimate with pursuit on foot. Unless the helicopter got lucky
and spotted them sooner.
* * *
Kuno called a halt when Nabiki was having trouble keeping up. He
set Ukyo gently upon the grass. They were following a small stream
northwest as it wound through wooded hills.
Nabiki stooped to take a drink from the stream. The water was
cold and sweet, fed by the last of the melting snowpack from the
distant Transylvanian Alps of Romania. After drinking her fill she wet
a rag for Ukyo and knelt over her.
She was still drifting in and out of sleep. Her fever was raging and
her face and throat flushed with heat. Nabiki set the cool rag over her
brow, stirring her to wakefulness.
“How are you feeling?” Nabiki asked, for lack of anything better to
say.
Ukyo tried to lift her head and then thought better of it.
“Terrible. I’m burning up. Where are we? It smells like we’re close
to the sea.”
“Safe,” Nabiki replied. She had seen a few gulls earlier herself, and
hoped that they could find a village soon.
Ukyo lay back upon the grass. “I’m just slowing you down, aren’t
I?”
“Don’t even start Ukyo!” Nabiki shot back. “We aren’t leaving
you here, so forget it!”
Ukyo tried to smile before she faded back into a fitful sleep.
Nabiki looked up to Kuno. “She needs help.”
“I am aware of that, Nabiki Tendo,” Kuno replied calmly. “However,
we must find it first. Are you ready to continue?”
Nabiki sighed. Her own weariness was quite evident, but she
started down the banks of the stream. Kuno picked Ukyo up into his
arms and carefully put her over his shoulders. He grunted in exertion,
and Nabiki winced as she heard him.
**I knew even Kuno couldn’t keep this up without feeling it sooner
or later.**
They continued on in silence. Occasionally Kuno would look over
his shoulder, but in the woods as they were it would be difficult to see
their pursuers coming. Nabiki had the lead for awhile and she followed
a game trail up the stream.
The sound of the helicopter was heard in the distance some time
later. It approached slowly, still searching carefully for a sign of them.
They took shelter from it under the cover of a dense thicket. The
thorns and brambles stung their arms and tore their clothes, but it was
preferable to catching a bullet in the forehead.
The helicopter hovered closer to them. Nabiki could see a man
behind a machine gun sweeping his weapon back and forth only
twenty meters over their heads. The loud chopping noise of the rotor
wash rang in their ears.
Suddenly the machine gunner cut loose with a long burst. Hot
brass showered down upon them, but the bullets tore apart a copse
of trees on the opposite side of the stream and thirty meters distant.
Nabiki could smell the cut grass and the shorn trees as the gunner
blew the hell out of the copse.
**What are they doing?**
The helicopter dipped lower to the ground, it’s rotor wash stirring
up a cloud of dust and bits of mutilated vegetation. It hung there for
a few moments, and Nabiki expected people to jump out and search.
The Marakov was in her hand, and she readied herself to draw back
the slide and chamber a round.
“Hold, Nabiki Tendo,” Kuno admonished. “Let us first learn their
intent.”
Nabiki waited, though her hands were ready to work the pistol as
he had taught her. Fear dispelled any compunctions about using it if
she had to.
**At this point I’d rather be shot and killed than taken back and
tortured like Ukyo.**
Two men jumped down from the helicopter. Both wore mottled
Soviet Naval Infantry camouflage pattern fatigue trousers and brown
wool pullover sweaters and carried AK-74s at the ready.
“Yah ustal,” The first man said loudly to the other.
“Da.”
“Skol’ko syechas vryemeni?”
“Syem chasov vyechyera,” the second replied tiredly.
They fished around in the ruined copse for a few minutes.
“What are they looking for?” Nabiki asked Kuno.
“I do not know,” Kuno responded.
The first man cried out and pointed at the ground. “Yah nashol zto!”
Together the two men pulled a bloodied deer carcass from the
ruined copse. They threw the carcass up onto the helicopter and then
climbed aboard. The helicopter rose into the sky and flew southeast.
“Dinner is served,” Nabiki remarked. The berries had run out at
lunch time, and she was hungry again. She tucked the Marakov back
into her jeans.
“Fortune smiles once again upon us,” Kuno added. He collected
Ukyo and they continued on.
They marched for another two hours, trying to get as far as
possible with the remaining daylight. As they crested one last hill they
saw the final rays of dusk glitter upon the Dniester River in the distance.
Farther south was a small firth that fed into the Black Sea.
Even more importantly were the lights of a small town below them
that winked on as the daylight faded away.
“We could get there tonight,” Nabiki cried. “Maybe we’ll find a
doctor for Ukyo, too.”
Kuno didn’t seem as optimistic. “We must continue to exercise
caution. We do not know what our captors have told the authorities
about us.”
Nabiki’s smile dropped into a sullen frown. “Yeah, I suppose
you’re right Kuno-baby. We don’t speak the language; they could
just make up whatever story they wanted about us -we wouldn’t be
able to tell our side of the story to anyone.”
“Still, fair Ukyo requires attention. We must simply exercise a
certain restraint in seeking it.” Kuno said after a minute.
They slipped into the town as night fell in earnest. It was a fishing
town, mostly along the wide banks of the Dniester. A series of docks
and quays lined both sides of the slow moving river. The mooring
lines of fishing boats creaked as they calmly surged against their cleats.
Few people were out on the streets, which were unevenly lit by weak
incandescent lamps.
“Do you see anything that looks like a hospital?” Nabiki asked
Kuno.
“I do not,” Kuno replied.
“I wonder where we are,” Nabiki continued. “Maybe if I could
find a telephone we could call home and get help.”
“I do not think that is likely,” Kuno replied.
Nabiki shot him a dark look. “Stop trying to be so encouraging.”
They skirted past a restaurant/tavern filled with boisterous
fishermen. The sights and smells were inviting, but the fear of discovery
was even more palpable. Nabiki made a mental note to remember the
place if they got desperate enough to venture inside. **That would
probably be soon,** she thought glumly.
They reached a small train station. Nabiki had the hope of finding
a map there that would at least tell them where they were. She wasn’t
disappointed. A large faded sign was painted on a wall outside the
station office.
Nabiki studied the map intently. She couldn’t read any of the
Cyrillic writing painted on it, but she had a general idea where they
were now.
“And to think I’d never use my geography lessons!” She cried in a
happy (if hushed) tone of voice.
“What did you learn, Nabiki Tendo?” Kuno asked.
“I know where we are now,” she announced.
“And where, pray tell, is that?”
“We’re in the southwestern part of the Ukraine, close to the coast
of the Black Sea. In fact we’re really close to Moldavia. It’s just north
of here.”
“And what does this mean for us?”
“It means we can get across the border and call for help. The
Moldavians have no love for the Russians. I don’t know if Japan has
an embassy there, but there’s bound to be some friendly western
power that does.”
“How far?”
Nabiki checked the map again.
“I’m not sure. There isn’t any scale on this thing.” An idea popped
into her head. “Wait here with Ukyo, I’ll be right back.”
She looked around the station as Kuno watched over Ukyo. She
found what she was looking for, a train schedule. She couldn’t read
the Cyrillic letters, but the numbers for train times were in Arabic. All
she had to do was compare the words on the schedule with the words
on the map, and put a time next to it.
After ten minutes of furious study, she had what she was looking
for.
“There’s a train that comes through here around midnight,” she
informed Kuno. “It stops for ten minutes and then continues on north
into Moldavia, some big city on the river. We can stow away on the
train and ride in style. It arrives in just two hours!”
Kuno was puzzled. “And how do you know what time it is here?”
“There’s a big clock above that tavern we passed,” she replied
coolly. She put her hands on her hips. “Well? What do you think?”
“I never doubted your wisdom Nabiki Tendo,” he replied stoically.
Nabiki flashed him a smile. “Why Kuno-baby! I’m flattered!”
* * *
The train was a dilapidated old diesel locomotive hauling timber on
rusty flatcars, tanker cars which reeked of kerosene, and a series of
boxcars which had seen better days themselves. It stopped at the
station with a squeal of brakes and a shower of orange sparks.
A light flicked on at the station office. A man in a dingy nightshirt
and slippers stepped out of the office bearing a small dun colored sack.
One of the engineers hopped down from the locomotive and offered a
greeting to him.
“<Hello Vasily Ivanovich!>” The engineer called.
Vasily raised his hand in greeting.
“<Hello Sergei Petrovich.>”
Sergei took the sack from Vasily.
“<You have some of that brandy?>” The engineer asked.
Vasily sighed. “<Of course, help yourself.>”
Sergei took a healthy pull from a small flask that Vasily offered. He
smacked his lips in delight.
“<Such wonderful brandy you always have!>” He enthused. “<It is
June, but sometimes the nights get chilly. I thank you.>”
“<You are welcome, Sergei Petrovich.>”
Sergei took one more pull from the flask and handed it back to
Vasily, who had a drink for himself. “<So Vasily, what news do you
have besides this sack of mail?>”
“<Nothing of interest.>”
“<Well I have some for you,>” Sergei announced. “<In Belgorod
they say three Japanese spies were discovered in Odessa. The three
escaped, killing a few men in the process. They were fleeing on foot
this way. You have not seen or heard of any such people have you?>”
“<Japanese? I would remember such as that if I had, but the
answer is no... You say they killed some men?>”
“<Yes my friend. With a sword no less. You will keep a sharp
eye out won’t you? I am told there will be a reward for their capture.>”
Vasily nodded with a yawn.
Sergei got back on the train with the sack of mail over his shoulder.
He waved as the diesel rumbled from idle to half power and then back
down to one-quarter. The train began to move slowly at first and then
gradually picked up speed.
“Bolshoyeh spacebo, Vasily Ivanovich!”
“Pozhalyusta. Da svedonya!”
Nabiki, Ukyo, and Kuno had no idea what it was Sergei and Vasily
were discussing, but then again they had more pressing concerns. Like
getting into one of the boxcars. Kuno managed to pry open one of the
doors (which was thankfully ajar) just as the train started moving.
Nabiki helped Ukyo get inside and then hopped up as well. Kuno slid
the door nearly shut, leaving a sliver of starlight to shine through the
gap.
“We made it,” Nabiki declared happily. “Moldavia here we come.”
Ukyo brushed at her sweat matted hair. Her fever had subsided a
bit, but she continued to feel weak.
“Do you honestly think we can find help there?” She asked.
Nabiki tried to be cheerful. “We can find a doctor for you. I’m sure
of that at least.”
“I’ll be all right. I just need a bath and something to eat.”
Nabiki grinned, “I can help you on that score.” She withdrew a cloth
napkin from her purse. The scent of something positively wonderful
wafted from the slightly greasy napkin.
Ukyo’s mouth watered in anticipation. “Is that what I think it is?”
Nabiki nodded and handed her the napkin. Ukyo unwrapped it to
reveal a kind of soft fried pastry. It smelled of beef and cheese.
“I think it’s called a ‘pee-rosh-kee’. It’s filled with meat and cheese
and vegetables. They’re pretty good.”
Ukyo took a bite. A bit of grease dribbled down her fingers which
she licked clean in spite of her better manners. “At this point anything
would be good, but this! Mmmmm...”
When she had devoured the thing she sat back against a wooden
shipping crate. She seemed in better spirits already. For this Nabiki
was grateful.
“Wherever did you get that?” Ukyo asked after some moments.
“I sort of ‘liberated’ it from a tavern,” Nabiki replied with a grin.
“To be honest I liberated several of them. I guess I just have larceny
in my heart!”
“Who would have guessed?” Ukyo joked. She and Nabiki enjoyed
a brief chuckle between them. Kuno remained silent and contemplative
in the darkness of the boxcar.
Time passed by the clacking of the wheels along the tracks. The
train climbed a gentle upward grade. Kuno at last fell asleep while
kneeling on the wooden floor of the boxcar.
“I’ve been thinking,” Ukyo said, dispelling the silence between them.
“About?” Nabiki asked.
“About why we were kidnapped. I think this is all about Ranma and
Akane.”
Nabiki nodded. She had tossed similar thoughts about her head
during their journey.
“I’ve been thinking that too. Question is, what is it that these
Russians want with them that they’d kidnap us to get it?”
“Maybe they think we know where they are.”
“We do know where they are. At least where they were going.”
Ukyo brushed at her long fall of hair again. “Those English with all
the money, they sent for them to come to England, right?”
“Yeah.”
“What was it they were looking for in Nerima? I was always too
busy to ask when they were in the shop, and my English isn’t very
good either.”
“I talked to this man named Ferguson,” Nabiki began.
“The one they named those silly white boxes after?” Ukyo
interjected.
“The same. He said they were chasing after some kind of
‘magnetic disturbance’. I couldn’t tell you what that means, but if they
were willing to throw around the kind of money they did to find it, it
must be important.”
“Important enough to do this to us,” Ukyo noted.
* * *
“<How long ago did the train leave?>” Fyodor asked sternly.
Vasily’s knees began to buckle. The huge man held his throat in a
grip that was just shy of choking him.
“<A-About an hour ago, sir!>”
“<Did you see anything suspicious tonight? Perhaps three young
people of Asian descent?>”
“<The spies?! No! Not at all sir! I would have reported it to the
authorities if I had!>”
Fyodor seemed satisfied with Vasily’s answers. He released his
vice like grip on the man’s throat and turned to Nicolai.
“<You are sure they were here?>”
Nicolai nodded solemnly. “<They were here. I can find no other
tracks leading away, but I did find some close to the rails. They don’t
go anywhere, therefore they must have boarded the train.>”
“<How do you know it’s them?>” Fyodor demanded.
Nicolai pointed the beam of his flashlight to the tracks. “<There are
two sets of small tracks here. Womens’ feet; slippers and a Nike brand
running shoe. Our quarry wore such shoes, and I do not think the likes
of this village could afford such a decadent western luxury. The last set
is the damning evidence however: bare feet, belonging to a man. A
martial artist of some kind judging by the way he distributes his weight
as he walks.>”
“<I’m convinced, Colya.>” Fyodor said evenly. He returned his
attention to Vasily. “<Where was this train bound?>”
“<Razdel’naya, then Tiraspol, and then Bendery!>” Vasily replied
quickly.
Fyodor knew the territory, but pulled his topo map from its canvas
lined case anyway. By the glow of Nicolai’s flashlight he studied the
train tracks on their route. He pointed to a spot on the map.
“<Send for the helicopter!>” He ordered one of the men. “<We
shall cut them off here on the south side of Zhmerinka Bridge.>”
The man switched on his radio and did as he was instructed.
“<They will not escape us, Colya.>”
Nicolai chose to remain silent, although he couldn’t agree more.
Chapter Two
“You’ve been awfully quiet since we got here,” Akane said quietly.
She sat on the ground between Ranma’s legs as he wrapped his arms
about her. Her head lay against his chest. Ancient Maes Howe was
quiet and still, and the stars shone brilliantly above them.
“I’ve had a lot on my mind,” he replied.
“Anything you want to talk about?”
“Well...”
Akane reached up to touch his face. “I’m right here if you change
your mind.”
“Okay,” he replied.
She felt like she needed to say something to him. There was so
much she could say, but when her lips opened to speak only the most
important thought in her mind came out.
“I love you, Ranma.”
He gave her a squeeze. “I know you do.”
“And you love me?” She asked when he didn’t reciprocate.
“Yup. Even when you’re a violent tomboy.”
She tensed a little in his embrace, then relaxed again.
“I’m going to let that go -just this once.”
They caught a flash of light above them and looked up in time to
see the fiery remains of a meteor streak across the sky. Akane gasped
in delight.
“Did you make a wish?” Ranma asked her.
“No. Am I supposed to?”
“Sure! I thought everyone knew that.”
She huffed something under her breath.
“Don’t worry about it,” he said to her. “I’m sure another one will
come along.”
Moments later, another did. It trailed a long tail of golden sparks
that faded away near the horizon.
“Wow, that one almost made it to the ground,” Ranma observed.
“I made my wish,” Akane announced.
“Oh yeah? What for?”
“Oh no. If I told you, it wouldn’t come true. I know at least that
much about wishes.” **Especially this one.**
“Okay then. I hope it comes true for you.”
She felt her heart leap as he said those words.
“One day it will...” She replied in a whisper. **Just don’t keep me
waiting long...**
They watched the skies for awhile longer in companionable silence.
The wind was starting to pick up a bit, but with Akane so close Ranma
didn’t feel it. His fiancée of three years was safe and warm in the
shelter of his arms.
He felt her draw a breath to speak.
“Ranma?”
“Yeah?”
“About last night...”
“I thought we went through this already.”
“I’m not sure if you understand what I was trying to say.”
He was silent. **Okay, just what were you trying to say?**
“I’m sorry I left you alone last night...You know; after...”
He tensed in surprise. Akane continued:
“I got a little scared. We’ve never been so, um, carried away
before...I’m sorry, I guess I was just so nervous about where we were
going.”
**You weren’t the only one,** he thought, heart racing at the
memory of last night.
“It’s nothing against you, Ranma,” she finished quietly.
He had no idea what he should say to her. For once silence wasn’t
the comfort they had often taken for granted. He settled for giving
her a reassuring squeeze. It wasn’t enough, for either of them.
“I’m feeling a little sleepy,” she yawned. It was a clean way of
extricating themselves from such a tangled predicament.
Ranma followed her lead.
“Okay. I guess it is pretty late. Hiro said they liked to get an early
start anyway.”
“Yep,” she yawned again. He helped her to her feet. Despite their
awkward escape he still found the courage to take her hand. He had no
desire to forsake all affection for her no matter how nervous they were
about breaching that particular great unknown of their relationship.
They started back down the slope of Maes Howe. As they passed
the entrance to the tunnel that led into the heart of the barrow mound,
Ranma was sure he felt a presence watching them. He looked about
casually so as not to concern Akane, but found nothing.
**If it’s Anazali, she can keep herself hidden no matter how hard I
look.**
When they reached the camp, Ames, West and the others arrived
in a Range Rover and stumbled into their tents. McFogg had retired
for the evening but Clay was still awake. The parapsychologist said
nothing to the men, but offered a good-night to Ranma and Akane.
They offered one in return and found their tent.
He watched them go with a look of concern on his face. McFogg’s
revelation to him about the fate of the last Wayfinder did not sit well
with him. He found that he liked them; they made a cute couple and
despite their petty bickering it was quite obvious that they loved each
other dearly.
**All the more tragic perhaps,** he mused moodily. **Then again
it might explain why there are two Wayfinders instead of one. They are
probably tied to each other as well as the events they would find for us.
I’m willing to wager that one alone is incapable of acting as the
Wayfinder.**
Ranma found the chemical toilet Hiro had discussed earlier while
Akane changed into her bed clothes. When he returned she left the tent
for a similar visit. He stripped down to his tank top and boxers and set
up the sleeping bags and the foam mattresses. On a whim he unzipped
the summer-weight bags and reassembled them into one large spread.
He pushed the mats together to make a moderate sized and comfy bed.
When Akane returned she noted the change in bedding arrangements
but didn’t say anything about it. He read the look on her face and
replied anyway.
“I just thought it should be more like home,” he said to her.
“I guess so,” she admitted with a slight hint of a smile. She slipped
under the sleeping bag cover and patted the spot next to her. He joined
her for a hug and a good-night kiss. Akane returned his embrace with
warmth, but it was clear she had no intentions of going further with it.
Instead she parted with him and lay her head against his shoulder to
sleep.
She soon drifted off by his side, but he remained awake for some
time afterwards.
**How can I be happy and troubled at the same time?** He
thought darkly. The last few days had brought them closer together
than they had ever been, but it had been under such trying
circumstances.
He turned to watch her while she slumbered. Asleep she was so
peaceful, so tranquil and beautiful. He felt a little unworthy to have
someone so special for a fiancée, especially since the choice hadn’t
been his.
Sleep found him; but only after much soul searching, many
questions, and few answers.
Hiro Ohata stepped out of his tent and walked over to Ranma
and Akane’s tent. It was half past two in the morning, and he knew
he should be asleep. Unfortunately he had the nagging feeling that
something was amiss. It might have been overreacting, but he had
his SigArms .45 in his hand, locked and loaded.
Both of them were asleep in the tent. He watched them for a few
minutes to satisfy his own peace of mind before walking over to the
pavilion. He thumbed the decock on his pistol, safely dropping the
hammer with a _click_. He tucked the weapon into the elastic
waistband of his boxers and joined Clay at the table. Clay didn’t
sleep much, and it was no surprise to find him still up at this hour.
“Hello Hiro, what keeps you up?”
Hiro shrugged. “Just a little case of nerves I guess,” he replied.
“That explains the pistol.”
Hiro sighed. “Nothing gets by you Mister Clay.”
“It’s a little obvious, Hiro. Any particular reason that you are
armed in your bedclothes?”
“Like I said Mister Clay, just a little case of nerves.”
“Would you like to talk about it?”
Hiro reached for a cup of hot water and dipped an infusing basket
filled with herbal tea into it. “I just had the feeling that something was
wrong.”
“What do you mean by ‘something was wrong’?”
“It’s hard to say. It was just a little nagging feeling I had.”
“It was enough to rouse you from sleep and put a loaded gun in
your hand,” Clay observed.
“I can’t explain it Mister Clay, not even to myself. All I know is
that I won’t allow any harm to come to Ranma or Akane.”
“You feel it too then? The impression that some disaster hangs
over them?”
Hiro paled. “I don’t know about a disaster, but I do kinda think
they’re in danger. What do you think?”
“I agree that they are in danger, Hiro. Unfortunately the source of
that danger has yet to reveal itself. When it does we may be too late.”
“I’ll die before I let anything happen to either of them,” Hiro said
sternly.
“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. But let us also take certain
measures to prevent it as well.”
* * *
Nabiki wasn’t sure when she had dozed off, but she awoke with a
start.
**The train is slowing down...**
She ventured a peek out of the door. They were in the middle of
nowhere.
**Uh oh...**
“Get up you two!” She hissed. Ukyo and Kuno opened their eyes
in surprise.
“What is it?” Ukyo asked groggily.
Kuno didn’t wait for an answer. His sword was drawn in his hand as
he crept to the door.
“The train is slowing down but there’s nothing in sight,” Nabiki
supplied. She drew the Marakov from behind her back.
They heard the faint sounds of rotor wash, a sound they were all
too well accustomed to hearing. Nabiki looked furtively to Kuno, who
nodded solemnly in reply to her unspoken question. She pulled the slide
back on the Marakov, noting that the hammer was ready to drop as the
slide sprang forward. She kept her finger on the trigger guard as Kuno
had instructed.
“We must flee whilst the train remains in motion,” Kuno said to
them.
“Ready when you are,” Ukyo replied.
Nabiki was wondering if she should breathe.
The door slammed open violently before them. A man in an oilskin
longcoat and armed with a shotgun trotted along with the train outside.
His eyes widened as he saw the three of them ready to spring out. His
shotgun came up to bear on them.
Nabiki settled on a screaming exhale and jerked the trigger.
The Marakov barked once, a bright orange fireball spouting from
the muzzle as the casing spat from the receiver. The 7.65mm round
crashed through the wooden wall of the boxcar in a spray of splinters.
The man ducked by reflex after the fact, he wasn’t expecting them to
have a gun with them!
The second’s delay cost him his life. Kuno managed a stiff armed
half swing from his crouched stance and opened the man’s throat with
a gleam of starlight against the blade. The man’s eyes blazed in
surprise as he clutched at his rent flesh and he dropped to his knees.
His other hand tensed on the trigger of his shotgun. The weapon
roared a fierce report that ripped into the walls and steel wheels of
the boxcar in a shower of sparks.
Kuno sprang out of the train with Ukyo and Nabiki close behind.
Shouts rang out ahead of them, and the sounds of boots sliding on
gravel could be heard from the opposite side. The three dashed for
the shelter of trees growing along the tracks.
“<What was that!? Who’s firing?>” Nicolai demanded.
“<Idiot!>” Fyodor barked in reply. “<It is them!>” He brought his
AK-74 up to his shoulder and made a trotting advance down the tracks,
keeping the rifle ready to bear. The rest of the party followed behind
on either side of the tracks.
“<Get the helicopter airborne to find them and give support!>”
Fyodor called back to Nicolai, never taking his eyes from peering
down the length of his rifle as he moved. Nicolai stumbled a reply
and ran back to the helicopter.
“<Nightvision!>” One of the men cried. “<They ran into the woods
towards the river!>”
The remainder of the party dropped nightvision glasses over their
eyes. All except Fyodor. He kept his attentions on the side of the tracks.
He leaped casually over the now deceased but still twitching body of
the fallen Ukrainian and bore right into the woods.
He could see their shadows ahead of him plunging through the
shrubs and trees. His rifle crackled with a short burst of automatic fire.
It was an impossible shot given the relative motions and all the cover,
but he felt he could shake them up and force them to make a mistake.
Ukyo felt the bullet zip past her ear before she heard the rifle’s
report. It bored through a tree in front of her path effortlessly. Another
round struck the ground between her feet, making her skip a step in
fright.
Nabiki was right behind her and they nearly collided as Ukyo
slowed down. She reached out and grabbed at Ukyo’s shoulder,
pulling her to the left to follow as Kuno changed course. Another of
Fyodor’s men fired a burst, and the report was enough to make them
utter brief cries of surprise. That no bullets came close was of no
comfort.
Kuno led the way. It sickened him to think that he must run, but
didn’t Musashi Miyamoto himself say it was foolish to fight an enemy
on _his_ terms? He also felt himself responsible for the lives of Nabiki
and Ukyo, and that their safety must subordinate his desires to engage
the foe.
“<This way! Towards the river!>” Fyodor called out. “<Boris and
Igor sweep to the left two hundred meters; Anton and Pavel to the right.
Work your way towards the middle when you reach the river!>”
He was close now, only forty meters behind. He could hear their
desperate panting breaths above the sounds of his own thrashing though
the underbrush. He would drive them towards the river. If they broke to
the right or left before they reached the Dniester his two flanking parties
would catch them up in their sweeps.
**Then I will kill them.**
The helicopter beat at the air above him. The machine gunner had
infrared glasses that would catch the invisible reflected light of the IR
searchlight mounted under the aircraft’s nose. The gunner had little
chance of hitting them unless they stumbled into a clearing, but the
rain of lead from above would only add to their desperation.
As if on cue the gunner opened up. A graceful arc of green sparks
snaked down from above as the tracers did their work. The woods
crackled satisfyingly under the impacts.
The woods exploded around them, throwing strips of shredded bark,
twigs and branches, and the wet sticky remains of mutilated leaves in
their faces. Kuno jinked to the right to avoid a second burst that lit up
the ground before them in vicious green light.
“Cowards!” He bellowed. His impotent rage was nearly boiling over.
The helicopter circled away from them to make another sweep.
Machine gun fire ripped into the woods farther away. Kuno snorted in
derision for the crew.
**The fools have naught but an idea of our presence.**
The Dniester River lay before them, sandy banks gleaming silver
in the moonlight. The far side of the river was almost a hundred meters
distant. The current didn’t appear to be very swift.
**They could make such a fording,** he thought. **Even fair Ukyo
if Nabiki assists her.**
“Go!” He ordered them, pushing them towards the river with his left
arm even as he raised his blade high with his right.
Nabiki stopped short of the water and spun around on her heels.
Ukyo stopped as well, falling to her knees to catch her breath, and
cursing the weakness that afflicted her.
“What?!”
“Cross the river Nabiki Tendo! Take fair Ukyo and go!” He shot
back past teeth clenched in anticipation.
Nabiki knew what Kuno intended but found herself asking anyway.
“What about you?” She cried.
Kuno took his stance and waited for Fyodor and the others.
“I shall face them,” he declared tonelessly.
“Stop with the damn samurai drama and come on!” Nabiki pleaded.
She could hear the thrashing of the underbrush as Fyodor and the rest
closed with them. Her feet wanted to take her into the cold Dniester
and perhaps escape. Her mind willed them still -at least for the moment.
Kuno was adamant. In the distance the train whistle made an awful
plaintive cry.
Nabiki flinched at the sound. Kuno stood fast.
“ ‘I have supp’d full with horrors; Direness, familiar to my
slaughterous thoughts, cannot once start me!’ And so ‘Make all our
trumpets speak; give them all breath -those clamorous harbingers of
blood and death!’”
Nabiki clutched at his arm to drag him into the river. He threw
her off, sending her splashing into the icy Dniester with Ukyo.
Tears of desperation welled at the corners of her eyes as she saw
them burst from the trees with their rifles ready. Kuno charged them,
sword raised at high guard.
“Kuuuuunnnnooooooo!!!” She cried.
The kendoist’s blade flashed with gorgeous brilliance. Fyodor’s
men stopped short in momentary awe of Kuno’s charge, hearts’
quailing with his powerful and incomprehensible words.
“ ‘Before my body I throw my warlike shield! Lay on MacDuff,
and damn’d be him that first cries ‘Hold, enough!’”
He brought his sword down upon Igor, cleaving him from crown
to crotch in a stroke that rang of steel on bone. Igor’s instant and
bloody demise jolted the rest of them into action. Fyodor raised his
AK-74 right to Kuno’s head as the swordsman slashed Boris’ belly
open with his next stroke.
The Ukrainian’s finger tensed on the trigger of his rifle.
The sand erupted in a huge geyser of gritty silver all about them.
Rifles barked spasmodically in the confusion, voices gasped for
breath as they cried out in panic. A roar and a flash filled their ears
and blinded their eyes, driving them back into the trees with such
ferocity that they were struck blind, deaf, and dumb.
Fyodor lay in the brush not three meters from where Kuno fell.
His rifle lay across his chest. His right thigh throbbed where a
panicked shot from Pavel had sent an armor piercing bullet clean
through.
Because he was the only one not wearing nightvision glasses, he
was the only one not blinded by the flash. He could hear the muted
gasps of pain and fright from his men in the woods around him.
He tried to answer the question of what had happened to them.
Had one of his men tried to kill the swordsman with a grenade?
**More likely the swordsman severed the release spoon on one
of Igor’s grenades with his stroke and set it off that way...**
Nabiki fell back into the water next to Ukyo. At first she thought
a Russian grenade had exploded in their midst, and that all them, Kuno
included, had been killed. Her throat stung and her eyes smarted with
grief.
Then she saw him.
He was walking on the water. Long pale hair flowed from his
shoulders with the wind. He was cloaked in weathered grey. A
broadsword hung at his side without scabbard, the blade flashing
with pearlescent light under the moon.
He stepped onto the ruined bank of the river with easy measured
steps. The body of Tatewaki Kuno lay at his feet as he stopped. He
looked down at the fallen man and stooped casually to retrieve the
sword from where it lay upon the churned sand.
“W-Who is that?” Ukyo whispered frightfully.
Nabiki had no answer for her.
The man studied the blade fondly, approving of it’s strength and
keen edge.
Fyodor looked up and saw the man. His eyes widened in shock.
**This cannot be! Him?**
The man took note of his presence and regarded him with a
reproachful look. Fyodor felt his head grow heavy and his vision
watered. He struggled to bring his rifle up to shoot the man, but his
weapon weighed a ton in his grasp. With an unintelligible curse he
sank into the brush and was still.
The man turned then to look upon Ukyo and Nabiki, who huddled
together in the shallow icy water. They saw his face then, and it was
beautiful and terrible to behold. He smiled so viciously their hearts
started in their chests.
It was the last thing they saw before darkness swept them away.
Chapter Three
Dawn came to Maes Howe early as promised. Ranma stirred awake
to the sounds of men bitching about the chill morning outside the tent.
Their voices and the clatter of aluminum mess gear stirred memories
of the recent past.
He looked to his side. Akane was there, fast asleep, and comely
even with mussed hair. Her arm lay lightly across his chest. He was
warm and cozy beneath the sleeping bag spread and the cold hard
ground was insulated from him by a nice foam mattress.
**This is not Korea,** he reminded himself. More than once in
the last year he had awakened tired and cold in his hole to the sleeping
form of Ryoga Hibiki. Ryoga was usually in need of a shave and had
several days worth of dirt and grime smudged on his face.
He decided it was too cozy to leave just yet. **Another hour of
sleep couldn’t hurt,** he thought to himself. **It won’t be any big
deal to skip breakfast today.**
That decided, he fell back asleep.
Hiro Ohata slapped at the tent flap some time later. Ranma and
Akane were both slow to rise. Hiro continued.
“What is it?” Akane growled.
“You should probably get up now,” Hiro replied.
“What time is it?” Ranma asked groggily.
“Quarter past eight. I had the cooks save you some breakfast, but
you’d better get going. We’re supposed to go inside the hill in forty-
five minutes.”
“Okay, okay, we’re up already,” Ranma muttered.
“Okay, see you in a few minutes then.” The sounds of Hiro’s
retreating footsteps followed.
Ranma yawned once and scratched at his head. He looked at
Akane as he did so.
“Good morning sleepy head.”
She made a face at him.
“You should see yourself,” she threw back with a smirk.
“I’ll admit, you aren’t as bad as waking up to Ryoga every morning.
Or Kuno or Hiro for that matter.”
She raised an eyebrow at him.
“Well you’re softer and smell nicer for starters,” he continued.
She sat up and rolled out from the bed. She stretched her arms
and looked out of the window flap.
“We must be the last ones up,” she remarked.
Ranma threw on a pair of baggy black trousers and his black
Chinese shirt. He stepped into his worn slippers and pulled on his
camouflage jacket as Akane rifled through her bag for something to
wear.
“Hurry up,” he said to her on his way out of the tent.
“Just a moment,” she returned, still looking.
“If we miss this ‘event’ thing because you were trying to figure out
what to wear I’ll...” He left his threat open, clenched his fists for a
second, and then continued outside.
Akane decided not to press him for details. She had no desire to
fight with him at the moment because she was in a good mood in spite
of her fatigue and didn’t want to ruin it.
**Strike one, Ranma.**
With a sigh she found an outfit that would suffice.
Ranma found Hiro, who directed him to the pavilion. Two covered
aluminum mess kits sat by the edge of the fire pit in the shelter of stones.
He gathered the two kits out of the ashes and brushed them off with a
rag.
“They’re nice and warm, but they’ve been sitting awhile,” Hiro said
to him.
“Why didn’t you wake us up earlier?”
“Come on Saotome, you know sleep always has first priority over
eating.”
Ranma nodded. Another lesson learned in war.
“Besides,” Hiro continued, “I was a little worried that Akane-chan
would get violent if I came for you so early. She’s cute, but dangerous.”
“Tell me about it,” Ranma muttered. He opened up his mess kit and
took a look. Pancakes and bacon with some scrambled eggs. Three
hours old made it look less than appetizing. But he’d seen and eaten
worse.
“It’s much better fresh off the griddle,” Hiro noted. “Syrup’s over
there if you need it.”
“This is fine,” Ranma replied.
Akane walked up and sat next to him at the table. Hiro opened up
her kit and offered her some flatware. She looked at the food, and
then to Ranma, who was wolfing down his portion.
“And you give _my_ cooking a hard time?” She asked incredulously.
Ranma answered her between bites.
“Yours looks like this right away.”
Her fists clenched, but no blows fell.
**Strike two!**
She ignored the comment. Hiro had backed away several paces just
in case. Ranma kept eating.
“Ya know the faster you eat it the less you have to taste it,” he
remarked to Hiro.
“Words from our Drill Instructors,” Hiro added from what he
guessed to be a safe distance.
“I learned it long before I got drafted,” Ranma said, looking at
Akane.
“STRIKE THREE!!!”
Hiro watched Akane leave. He was sure he saw steam (or was it
smoke?) wafting from her ears. He looked back to Ranma, who was
now wearing Akane’s breakfast, tin and all, on his head. Scrambled
eggs crumbled down his brow as he sat there in silence.
“You know Saotome, there is something to be said for peaceful
coexistence. Especially when your current condition requires her close
proximity. Know what I mean?”
“Aw this is nothin’,” Ranma replied from beneath his bacon and
pancake hat.
“Why do you do this to yourself?”
Ranma shrugged. “I dunno. Maybe I like her that way...”
“You need help.”
“You’re probably right.”
Hiro collected Akane’s breakfast from Ranma’s head and threw it
into a trash bag. “Come on, we don’t want miss our ride up to the hill.”
“It’s not that far to walk. Besides, I think Akane’s getting into the
last Range Rover.”
“Well then, let’s start hoofing it, shall we?” Hiro conceded.
* * *
Ukyo awoke with a start.
**Something’s wrong here...**
For one thing she was lying in a comfortable bed. At first she
thought that she had awakened from a nightmare to find that she was
safe at home. The gentle side to side rocking of the room and the
mournful cry of seagulls outside dispelled such thoughts quickly.
She sat up in bed and looked around. Nabiki lay asleep next to her
in the large bed, and beyond her lay Tatewaki Kuno. The room was
small, dominated by the bed and leaving just a little area beyond for
fine crafted furniture such as chairs, a low table, and several chests of
drawers. The walls were filled with paintings of the sea and ships and
other nautical themes. It occurred to her then that they were on some
sort of yacht.
Upon getting out of bed she realized that she was naked.
“Hey!” She cried, a little too loudly perhaps.
Nabiki stirred. A sleepy eye opened and tried to adjust for the soft
glow of light that filtered past drapes over the portholes.
“Hello, what’s this?” She asked tiredly.
Ukyo draped her long fall of hair over her nude form.
“I wish I knew. I just woke up myself.”
“Where are your clothes?”
Ukyo looked about her furtively. “I wish I knew.”
Nabiki threw off the layers of fine silk sheets and cashmere wool
comforter. She too was naked. “Okay, now where are _my_ clothes?”
“Why don’t you ask Kuno?” Ukyo grinned.
With a furious blush Nabiki looked over her shoulder to where
Kuno slept. She had thrown back the sheets enough to reveal Kuno’s
bare chest and taut belly. She noted that the intricate tattoo work that
concealed his gunshot wound scars had been completed. Without venturing
further investigation, Nabiki concluded that Kuno was probably in the buff
as well.
“Just what’s going on here?”
Ukyo padded across the room to look around.
“You tell me. What’s the last thing you remember?”
Nabiki thought for a moment.
“I remember being chased by the Russians to that river,” she began.
She looked at Kuno, who was deeply unconscious but otherwise looking
very healthy and whole. “And Kuno here pulling his ‘noble sacrifice’ to
let us escape, but after that I don’t remember much at all.”
“Me neither,” Ukyo added. “But someone must have rescued us,
because I don’t think those Russians would be treating us this well. Do
you realize that I’m clean?”
Nabiki gave her a puzzled look.
Ukyo gestured to her lithe form. Her abundance of bare skin fairly
glowed in the soft light. Her long mane of brown-black hair was shiny
and luxuriant. “I’m not all dirty and grimy anymore. And my skin
smells like lilac scented bath oil.”
Nabiki sniffed her arm above the wrist. A faint scent of jasmine
tickled her nose. Her skin felt silky and pampered. “I've been bathed
as well.”
Kuno must have heard them talking in his sleep, because he groaned
once and then sat up. His eyes widened in momentary surprise at
beholding Ukyo and Nabiki au natural.
“ ‘If I could write the beauty of your eyes and in fresh numbers
number all your graces, the age to come would say, _This poet lies;
such heavenly touches ne’er touch’d earthly faces!_’”
“It’s not our _faces_ you’re staring at!” Ukyo cried.
She and Nabiki clobbered him with a few pillows close at hand,
there wasn’t anything heavier available within easy reach. As Kuno
was pelted down they grabbed at the bedspread and sheets and pulled
them close to their bodies.
Kuno meanwhile lay back on the bed and sighed dreamily.
“To think that such nubile visions of loveliness lay within my
sheltering arms and sweet embrace! Great is the pity that I cannot
recall such heady pleasures...”
Ukyo and Nabiki arched eyebrows, looking at each other to
confirm what the other was thinking. Both women turned livid and
cast withering looks at Kuno. The kendoist maintained his dreamy
countenance.
“WE DID _NOT_ SLEEP WITH YOU!!!” They yelled in furious
unison.
A noise at the aft door startled them. A tall man in loose white
trousers and a blue and white striped shirt stepped through the door
from the aft ladder. His long pale hair was tied in a pony tail with
a yellow ribbon. His pale skin had a silvery glint to it in the sunlight
that streamed through the portholes.
“I see you are awake,” he observed evenly. They found they could
understand him, although he didn’t seem to be speaking Japanese.
“You appear to be none the worse for wear.”
Nabiki pressed the white sheet against her chest, a little taken aback
with the man’s entrance. Ukyo fell in behind Nabiki and watched warily.
Kuno sat up in the bed and waited. He seemed to be the only one of the
three who wasn’t concerned.
“I suppose introductions would be in order. Perhaps an explanation
could follow, but we shall see. I go by many names, but you may call
me Aerandir. And you are?”
Nabiki wasn’t sure what to say. It was Ukyo who introduced
herself first.
“Ukyo Kuonji,” she said evenly.
Nabiki looked over her shoulder to Ukyo, who shrugged weakly in
reply. Nabiki sighed.
“Nabiki Tendo.”
Aerandir looked to Kuno.
“My name is Tatewaki Kuno, but you may call me Blue Thunder!”
“Well said,” Aerandir replied. “If you are hungry, I have prepared a
light supper in the galley. You may take it in here or up on deck if you
like.”
“Where is here?” Nabiki asked.
“At the moment you are aboard my ship, Kelebros, which sails for
the Sea of Marmara and then onto the Aegean Sea.”
“Where are we going?”
“I shall take you to a place where you will be safe from your
pursuers. From there you must choose your own paths,” Aerandir
replied. He gestured aft to the galley. “Come and eat, you are half
starved.”
Nabiki gestured to herself and Ukyo.
“Where are our clothes?”
Aerandir rolled his eyes mirthfully.
“Forgive me, Nabiki Tendo!” He chuckled. “I had forgotten.
They are still quite damp from your excursion in the Dniester River.”
He gestured to a standing wardrobe of polished sandalwood. “You
will find suitable garments in there. I shall await you on deck in the
meanwhile with supper.”
He closed the door behind them, and his soft footsteps could be
heard moving up a ladder aft.
Nabiki looked to the wardrobe. She pulled open the doors to find
an array of fine woman's clothing within.
“Not bad!” Nabiki cried aloud. She pulled something gauzy and
sensual from the rack. She held it up to herself, decided it was too racy
for the occasion, and put it back.
Ukyo looked inside as well.
“I’ll say,” she remarked.
“I hope he doesn’t wear this stuff,” Nabiki added. She pulled a
white summer dress from the rack and set it against herself. “I think I
might prefer a pair of tight blue jeans and a blouse over a dress, but it
looks nice at least.”
Ukyo agreed and took a short frock of soft purple velvet and white
hose stockings for herself. A pair of matching purple slippers lay on the
bottom of the wardrobe loosely wrapped in velvet.
Kuno watched them in silence, but even then they felt the weight of
his eyes upon them. They turned about on their heels and leveled a
second withering gaze at him.
“Oh Kuno-baby, wouldst thou be so gallant and allow us a moment
of privacy?” Nabiki asked in a saccharine voice.
Kuno turned around to face the door while they changed into their
clothes.
* * *
Ukyo and Nabiki stepped on deck from below. Their new garments
fit them well, and Aerandir said as much to them. He had several chairs
arranged for them on the afterdeck, but their eyes instead turned to the
ship they were embarked aboard.
She was a tall masted ketch, swift and daring of line. Her sails were
slightly silvered in the light, and her decks were made of a wood so
paled and polished that they too might have been inlaid with silver.
The ship’s brightwork was all brilliantly polished brass and (once more)
silvered fittings. How such fragile metal did not tarnish in the sea air
was lost upon them.
Even more wondrous about the ship was that there wasn’t a single
soul to be found save for themselves and Aerandir. No crew called out,
nor did anyone tend to the lines and the sails. The cries of gulls were
the only voices raised against the wind.
“How I love the sea,” Aerandir said fondly to them. Kelebros
pitched smoothly through the waves, and cool spindrift dewed the
faces of Ukyo and Nabiki. “A mariner’s life is often lonely; how
fortunate that I have such exquisite company! Come and eat with me.”
They sat with him then, and he offered both cups of cool wine to
drink. Ukyo sipped at hers, finding it to be sweet and sustaining. Nabiki
drank as well when Ukyo complimented the vintage. Aerandir served
them strips of warm doughy bread and a crock of soft cheese. Several
spicy smelling sausages steamed in a white tereen painted with blue
seahorses.
Kuno came up on deck as they ate. He was clad in a short dark-grey
robe which he wore open at the chest, and a pair of loose fitting trousers
of matching color. He had found his sword apparently, and he wore it at
his side.
“Come and join us!” Aerandir called to him.
Kuno looked about the ship as Ukyo and Nabiki had done before
him.
“Truly a fine vessel of sail, it reminds me of the Kuno Family yacht.”
Nabiki and Ukyo rolled their eyes at the reminder of their shipwreck
in said yacht.
Aerandir looked pleasantly surprised.
“You are a mariner then yourself?”
Nabiki stifled a laugh and Ukyo covered her mouth with a napkin to
hide her grin.
“Of no small accord,” Kuno replied proudly.
Both women lost control this time and fell to laughing.
Aerandir chuckled, “your companions seem to think differently.”
Kuno was taken aback. “That fell squall gusted up from the very
depths of hell! Were I not so skilled in seamanship we would all be
lost to the deeps now!”
“I believe you my friend, now come and join us at the table!”
Aerandir cried, and offered him a chair. He gave sly grins to Ukyo and
Nabiki as they sniggered a little more quietly.
His honor believed intact, Kuno took his place at the table and ate.
When all three had their fill, Aerandir offered them tea and a small tray
of chocolates. He popped one into his mouth with a smile.
“These are the last of them I’m afraid, but you are quite welcome
to them.”
“<Captain, Radar reports small craft bearing 0-2-8 true. Course
is 1-9-5, speed 15 knots, range six-thousand meters.>”
The Captain acknowledged his Officer of the Deck (OOD) and
stepped out from the bridge to the starboard lookout post. A signalman
with a pair of binoculars swept across the sky and the water in a
standard search pattern.
“<Angle on the bow is port 5-0 degrees,>” the lookout declared.
He took his own binoculars and scanned in the direction of the
target. It was a ketch under full sails. He could see four people seated
on the afterdeck. There were no markings on the sails or the hull, and
there was no flag flying.
“<Ask Radar why they didn’t detect this ship sooner,>” the Captain
called over his shoulder. He continued his scan.
“<Radar reports a very small return signature on the craft, indicating
that the hull is made of wood or fiberglass.>” The OOD reported.
“<There are no markings that I can see,>” the Captain said without
acknowledging the report. “<Have a gunnery crew man the forward
40mm mount and muster the boarding party with Lieutenant Borodin
at the number one whaleboat davit.>”
“<Aye aye, Captain!>” The OOD replied. He began issuing orders
inside the bridge. The crackle of his thick Ukrainian accent echoed
throughout the ship over the general announcing circuit intercom.
“<Set up a plot on this contact, designated...?>”
The OOD consulted a contact summary.
“<Master 1-9 sir,>” he informed.
“<Yes. Plot Master 1-9. Get Radio to hail them to heave to and
prepare to be boarded.>”
“<Aye aye, Captain!>”
The Captain studied the ketch as it cut through the water. There
was something very odd about it, but he couldn’t tell what it was.
“<Contact Master 1-9 Closest Point of Approach in approximately
two minutes: bearing 0-0-8 true, range 1500 meters.>” A quartermaster
declared.
The Captain grunted in acknowledgment. “<Slow to All Ahead
Two-thirds. Helm ease your rudder to right ten degrees, steady course
0-2-0.>”
**There is something very wrong about this ketch.**
As the Black Sea Fleet Krivak class frigate wheeled about to
intercept the ketch he realized what it was.
“<Mark wind speed and direction!>” He barked.
“<Wind is from the South by West at ten knots, Captain!>” An
enlisted rating called from the pilothouse.
He looked through his binoculars again. The ketch was under full
sail and slicing swiftly through the waves straight as an arrow.
**Impossible!**
“<That ship is moving under sail and against the wind at fifteen
knots?!>” The Captain cried aloud in disbelief. “<He hasn’t tacked
once!>”
“<Captain, port lookouts report a heavy fog bank closing in within
two-thousand meters,>” the OOD informed. He had his own binoculars
trained on the ketch as well.
The Captain looked away to watch the thick wall of vapor move in
with the quickening wind. He couldn’t believe his ill fortune.
“<Slow to One-third. Station the reduced visibility detail. Radiate as
necessary for safe navigation,>” he ordered. He looked forward to the
fo’c’sle and the 40mm gun mount. The gun crew was readying their
weapon. Below him at the whaleboat davit the boarding party was
standing by. His signalman flashed his 30cm signal light at the ketch.
“<Has Radio contacted Master 1-9?>” He asked through clenched
teeth. He didn’t want to lose them in the approaching fog, and he was
running out of time.
“<No Captain, there is no response on any civil maritime
frequencies,>” came the reply.
He looked to his signalman, who shook his head and continued to
flash his lamp at them.
“<Order the 40mm crew to fire one warning shot across their bow.>”
“<Aye aye, Captain!>” The OOD replied.
The fog bank rolled over the frigate. Droplets of dew condensed on
the cool steel plating and all visibility was lost. The Captain cursed aloud.
“<All Stop!>” He ordered. The telegraphs chimed in the pilothouse
as the Engineroom acknowledged the order. The frigate slowed in the
water, making almost no headway within moments.
“<Radar reports losing contact with Master 1-9; last known position
bearing 0-2-5, course 1-9-5, speed 15 knots, range two-thousand
meters.>”
The Captain was livid.
“<Are you serious?!>” He bellowed. “<How could you lose them
only two thousand meters away?>”
The OOD had no answer for his Captain, and so he ducked back
into the pilothouse and started yelling at the radarmen over the phone.
“Where did this fog come from?” Ukyo asked in surprise.
Aerandir made a dismissive gesture with his hand. “These things
happen in the Black Sea in June.”
“Are we safe?” Nabiki asked.
“Of course we are,” Aerandir laughed. “I know these waters well. In
fact I have every confidence that this fog will lift soon enough.” At this
he slipped a small flute out of his tunic and played them a cheery tune.
They listened to him play for awhile, and he sang for them between
measures. They didn’t understand the words, but they seemed to speak
of long ago voyages in tall ships of the line and of the brave mariners
who crewed them. He sang of fighting great raging storms and of the
heartache of being at sea for long months. Other songs were bawdy and
raccous and lifted their spirits with each tap of his foot to the beat.
Day passed into night, and so they slipped through the fog into the
Marmaran Sea. The wide Aegean lay beyond, and the three of them
were carried on over the waves. Aerandir was wonderful company,
and they were at peace.
Chapter Four
Maes Howe lay shrouded in the early morning gloom of Orkney
Island. Ranma could just make out the great sixteen foot high slab of
sandstone that he and Akane had found last night. Clay called it a
‘barnstone’, and Ranma remembered Hiro reading to him that during the
Winter Solstice the sun would set directly over the stone; and the
last rays of light would stream through an opening above the entrance
to the mound.
The other Range Rovers were parked along a wall of hard packed
earth that ringed the hill. Several men checked the arrangement of
Ferguson’s boxes under the supervision of Ferguson himself. Ranma
could see Akane standing with McFogg and Katy Price at the entrance.
Ferguson waved as they approached.
“<Thought you two came in one of the other Rovers,>” he remarked.
“<We decided to walk. Good exercise.>” Hiro replied.
“<Well just give me a few more moments and I’ll join you.>” He
checked one last run of optic cable and nodded his approval to the men.
“<The relays between Stenness and Brodgar are just coming up now,
hopefully they’ll answer a lot of questions today,>” Ferguson said to
them as they waited.
“<What questions are those?>” Hiro asked.
“<According to Clay and a few other paranormal researchers, the
three megalithic sites here on Orkney Island; that is Maes Howe, and
the stone circles of Stenness and Brodgar, are all interconnected. The
circles acted as observatories for events at Maes Howe. Stenness
seemed to be aligned for the Winter Solstice, while Brodgar seemed to
be aligned strictly for lunar events.>” He looked to the west and frowned.
“<Of course both circles are in a sad state. Stenness has only four
of the original twelve stones standing, and Brodgar’s enormous sixty
stone observatory is now only a damaged thirty-six. But what can
you say for being around almost five thousand years?>”
It was Ranma’s turn to frown. He had caught most of what
Ferguson had said, and it seemed a little confusing.
“<If this place is for stuff that happens in winter, why are we here
in the summer?>” He asked.
“<Good question,>” Ferguson answered with a smile. “<All three
sites are line junctions, but the two circles also seem to funnel energy
towards Maes Howe. I have sensors at the two circles and along the line
paths to Maes Howe. If we get lucky and catch the next event here, the
data will go a long way to describing the transmission of electromagnetic
energy throughout the Earth. Clay has a more mystical stake in this, but
for me and the others it will mean an insight into the Earth’s internal
makeup.>”
“<Sorry I asked,>” Ranma muttered lamely.
“<I know it seems pretty abstract, but the more we learn about this
energy that courses through the Earth, the better our chances of perhaps
harnessing it. Think about it; all that energy, nice and clean, for nothing.
Forget fusion power, we’ll tame the Earth itself!>”
Ranma wasn’t sure he agreed, but kept his opinions to himself.
They walked up the hill to join McFogg, Katy, and Akane. Katy
seemed to be in better spirits than she had the night before. McFogg
puffed idly on his pipe and gazed across the valley and the glittering lake.
In the distance could be seen Bettie’s Dare, and sitting atop her were
Durango and D-Day. They seemed to be fishing. Akane was studying
the small hole atop the entrance to the mound.
Ranma came up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. She
started as he touched her, and spun around to face him.
“Jumpy, aren’t we?” He teased.
“Enjoy your breakfast?” She shot back.
“It wasn’t bad. The pancakes were a little heavy,” he replied
nonplused.
“Not as heavy as your head!”
Hiro pushed past them and entered the opening to the mound.
“Will you two quit for a second? Come on!” He said to them in
passing.
Akane looked into the dim opening, and then to Ranma.
“You first.”
Ranma held up his hands in protest. “Oh no, ladies first. Even
tomboys count here.”
Akane sizzled.
Hiro stuck his head back out of the opening. “Cut it out already!”
“Butt out!” She shot back at him with raised fist.
“Butting out!” Hiro said, and ducked back inside.
McFogg and Katy stepped past and ducked into the hole. Ferguson
was close behind with an armload of instrumentation.
“Go already,” Ranma told her when the rest of them had entered.
Aside from a few techs, they were now alone outside.
“Okay, I’m going.”
Ranma reached out his hand and took hers as she went in. She
squeezed it in appreciation. He followed right behind her.
The opening was barely four and half feet high, causing them to
walk hunched over as they went. The tunnel was dimly lit by a string
of battery powered lamps nailed into the stones that lined the way.
Ranma noted that the stones were so old and worn that there was no
discernible gap between them.
The tunnel proceeded a good fifty feet into the mound before
opening up into a comparatively spacious chamber. The ceiling was at
least sixteen feet high. Stones lined the walls, floor, and ceiling. The
chamber was bare except for some spray painted graffiti along the walls.
The soft glow of morning light filtered through the ‘letterbox’ hole
above the tunnel and into the chamber, but was certainly no comparison
to the light which must have flooded in on the eve of the Winter Solstice.
Inside the chamber was an array of sensory gear and four Ferguson’s
boxes spaced evenly about the circumference. Clay was standing on the
opposite side of the chamber lost in reflection. The place had an air of
antiquity that was almost stifling.
“<We may never know what went on here all those years ago,>”
McFogg mused as he took in the atmosphere of the place.
“<Stories of this being a place where demons were summoned getting
to you old man?>” Clay joked.
“<Not at all Mister Clay,>” McFogg replied. He took a thoughtful puff
on his pipe and blew out a smoke ring.
Ferguson took some data from a portable Kirlian unit while they
waited.
“<Levels of energy are slightly above established baselines, but I
wouldn’t go crying ‘fire’ just yet.>”
McFogg checked his pocket watch. “<When is the event predicted
to occur?>”
Katy consulted a steno pad. “<Approximately twenty minutes from
now.>”
Ferguson snorted in contempt. Katy gave a dirty look in return.
“<No time for renewing old arguments,>” McFogg cautioned. “<I
think we all understand that the model isn’t quite as accurate as we’d
hoped.>”
“<That’s putting it mildly,>” Ferguson said in an acidic tone.
“<If you don’t believe in the model than why are you here?>” Katy
asked with equal venom.
“<I believe in Clay’s hunches more than the bloody computer my
dear.>”
Katy cut her next remark short of drawing breath with a look from
McFogg. The group remained silent, waiting. The chamber now seemed
more a burial place with the silence.
They waited over an hour this way, saying little, hoping.
Ferguson checked his sensors again. A puzzled expressed crossed his
face. He sniffed at the air, eventually looking at Ranma, Akane, Hiro.
“<Is it just me, or does someone smell like bacon in here?>”
Akane burst out laughing, which instantly broke the tension. Hiro had
a good laugh as well. Ranma decided to take a step outside for some air,
mostly to conceal his furious blush of embarrassment.
* * *
After two more hours had passed with nerve-wracking uneventfulness,
the rest of them joined Ranma outside. Katy made small talk with
McFogg while Clay walked about lost in thought. Hiro dozed with his
back against the side of the mound. Ferguson made periodic reports
over the radio with Ames and West at Stenness and Brodgar respectively.
Akane stood by Ranma’s side and said nothing. Occasionally she would
giggle softly at him, but he didn’t bother to say anything in return.
It was almost noon now, and Heironymous Durango and D-Day
walked up hill to meet them. Durango had a cigar dangling from his lip.
D-Day was nursing a beer.
“<Hey, we done already?>” Durango asked.
“<It hasn’t even happened yet,>” Hiro said tiredly from the ground.
“<Any ideas on when?>”
Katy gave him a derisive look. “<Why, are you in some kind of
hurry?>”
“<No, I just wanna know if I have time to slip into Kirkwall for a
bite to eat and a pint or two of that hard cider over at the Red Groom
pub.>”
“<I don’t see any problem with that,>” McFogg said evenly. “<Just
bring back a pint or two for me if you go.>”
“<I’ll need to borrow a Range Rover,>” Durango added hastily.
“<We don’t seem to be using them at the moment,>” McFogg
answered tiredly.
“<A done deal!>” Durango crowed. “<Anyone wanna come along?>”
There were no takers.
“<Suit yourselves.>”
He started back down the hill with D-Day close behind.
“<What a jackass!>” Katy huffed.
“<Careful there Miss Price. One might think you were concealing
feelings of attraction towards the old Yank.>” Ferguson teased.
Katy offered him a gesture most decidedly unladylike.
Ranma meanwhile had joined Hiro along the hill for a nap. Akane
took her customary place beside him and yawned tiredly.
“We should have stayed in bed. I’m bored.” She remarked.
“I think you’re right,” Ranma replied. He twiddled idly at his pigtail.
“Hurry up and wait,” Hiro added. “I thought we got away from that
when we got our discharge papers.”
“You’d think so,” Ranma answered. “Man, I could be home right
now having one of Kasumi’s lunches. Instead I’m on some island
thousands of kilometers from home waiting for something that might
never come.”
“Chasing the wind my friend. I told you that’s what were doing,
didn’t I?”
Akane clicked her tongue. “Well we can at least make the best of
this.”
“Weren’t you the one who said she was bored just a minute ago?”
Ranma asked dryly.
“Yes, but at least I’m bored in a different place than home. Don’t
you get tired of waking up in the same place to the same people and
doing the same things every day?”
“After spending ten years of my life wandering around China and
Japan with my old man? No. A little stability in my life is a good thing.”
Akane turned away and looked out to the west and the stone circle
of Brodgar only a mile distant. She hadn’t seen it last night. It was
pretty big, and she could almost make out where the missing or
destroyed stones had once stood. Five thousand years was a very long
time, and she thought about the ancient people who had raised the circle.
“I wonder why they came all the way up here just to watch the stars
and the moon. Aren’t there supposed to be circles further south in
England? Like Stonehenge maybe?”
“Huh?...Who?” Ranma and Hiro said together.
Akane frowned. “You two are such nitwits. I was talking about the
people who built this place.”
“I dunno,” Ranma replied.
“Ditto,” Hiro added with a shrug.
Akane put her hands to her temples and bowed her head. “I guess I
should have asked the people with a clue. Sorry to bother you.” She got
up and walked over to join Clay.
“No problem! Anytime!” Ranma called out to her. When she didn’t
reply he leaned back against the hill and closed his eyes to snooze.
“Akane seems quite curious about this whole thing,” Hiro observed.
“Yeah, she thinks this is all a big vacation for us,” Ranma observed,
eyes still closed.
“I suppose you could look at it that way.”
“Don’t encourage her. As soon as we’re cured, we’re out of here.”
“Thanks a lot pal. I love you too.”
“That’s not what I mean.”
Hiro sat up and looked at him. “Well what do you mean then?”
“Look, I appreciate everything you and the Professor have done for
us. It’s just that I don’t want Akane to lose sight of why we’re here:
We’re here to put our ki’s back in order so we can live normal lives...”
He drew in a deep breath and let it out in a rush. “I love her, but I can’t
spend the rest of my life chained to her side. Is that so wrong?”
“No, but I can think of far worse people to be ‘chained’ to for the
rest of my life.”
Ranma shook his head. “It’s hard to explain. You have to be in my
position I guess.”
“Oh no, my head isn’t as resistant to blunt trauma as yours!”
“Ha ha ha...” He threw up his hands. “Oh what’s the use? I guess
I’m gonna have to live with it.”
“Buck up Saotome. You’ll find your cure.”
“I hope so Hiro. Man I hope so.”
They sat in silence for awhile longer. McFogg and Katy had a few
of the techs go down to the camp to fetch lunch. Clay and Akane talked
about the stone circles, with Clay sweeping his hands across the valley
explaining the layout to her. Ferguson checked and rechecked his
sensors for lack of anything better to do. Time passed.
^Ranma...^
“Huh?”
He sat up and looked around for the source of the voice. Hiro was
fast asleep beside him. No one else was paying any attention to him.
^Ranma...^
“What?” He asked aloud to the open air.
^Ranma, if you don’t hurry, you’re going to miss it!^
“Anazali? Is that you?” He asked. Hiro stirred beside him.
“What’s going on, Saotome?”
^Ranma Saotome, if you don’t go inside right this moment you’re
going to miss it! Now move!^
It was Anazali’s voice all right. Only it was coming from inside his
head. Somehow he wasn’t all that surprised about that point.
He stood up and bounded over to Akane, taking her hand roughly
and pulling her back towards the tunnel opening.
“Hey?! What’s the big idea, Ranma?!” She cried indignantly.
“No time!” He replied. “We gotta get inside!”
He ducked into the tunnel opening as the others looked on in surprise.
Suddenly one of the portable displays Ferguson carried began chirping
for attention.
“<Hey I think we have something!>” He cried.
The radio crackled. “<Are you getting this?>” It was Ames’ voice,
very excited.
“<Sure am!>” Ferguson replied over the radio. He circled his hands
to some of the techs, who ran down the hill towards the camp. “<Get
those recorders going!>”
McFogg looked to Clay, who pointed at the tunnel where Ranma and
Akane had just entered, and smiled a knowing smile.
Ranma ran as fast as he could down the cramped tunnel. Akane’s
protests went ignored. He wasn’t going to miss this. When they bounded
into the open, he stood there and waited.
“What’s the big idea? I was talking to Mister Clay!” Akane yelled at
him.
“It’s coming!” Ranma yelled back.
“_What’s_ coming?!”
“The thing, the ‘event’, whatever you want to call it. It’s coming
real soon.”
“And how do _you_ know this?”
Ranma shrugged. “Trust me.”
“<The Brodgar site is reporting high levels of electromagnetic
disturbance,>” Ferguson said as they moved through the narrow tunnel.
“<The Stenness site has opened up. I think this it.>”
A voice over the radio squawked in garbled reply.
“<*BZZZTTT*Yeah, we’re showing a definite buil*ZZZ*up in
resonance area and *ZZTTKKT* frequencies. Everything’s way
ab*KSSHTZZZT* baseline. We’ve got uplink to satcom and
*ZZSSKKTZ* transmitting.>”
Ferguson acknowledged with a grunt as he bumped into McFogg.
**Electromagnetic interference is lousing up the radios...**
“<So how did Ranma know?>” He asked the Professor.
“<Perhaps he’s acquired a certain sensitivity to this activity,>”
McFogg replied.
“<Sort of like how animals sense earthquakes?>” Katy asked.
“<It’s as good an explanation as any.>”
They arrived in the chamber to find Ranma and Akane standing in
front of the other. Both wore apprehensive expressions on their faces.
Both stood still as statues.
Ferguson swept his portable Kirlian about the chamber.
“<Oh yeah, we’ve got a bloody build-up in here all right.>”
“<How soon?>” The Professor asked quickly.
“<Any time now,>” Ferguson answered. He couldn’t be much more
specific because he didn’t know.
Ranma felt the breeze at his heels, which was odd because there was
little air circulation in the tomb-like chamber before. Then his hair began
to stand on end, and his skin tingled.
Akane’s eyes flashed with worry. She could feel it too.
“Do we have to stand right in the middle?” She asked softly.
“If we want this to work, I think so.” Ranma said in a voice calm
enough to belie his anxiety.
The breeze picked up intensity, becoming a spinning rush of air that
tossed dirt and small bits of debris into a little cyclone around them.
Their hair and clothes billowed up, and it was all they could do to keep
their feet on the ground. Ranma was sure he could see little motes of
light sparkling about Akane. The look on her face told him she could see
the same.
“<This one’s huge!>” Ferguson breathed. His words were lost in the
tumult. “<No I mean it!>” He said louder. “<It’s bigger than Nerima by
a factor of three!>”
“<You can almost see it!>” Clay added excitedly.
“<Look at them!>” Hiro cried, pointing to Ranma and Akane, and
wishing someone would show more concern for them instead of the
sensors.
The wind was now a roaring torrent in the confines of the chamber.
Ranma and Akane were now floating in the eye of the cyclone. It was
McFogg, Ferguson, and the others who now held on for purchase
against the gusts. Katy lost control of herself and began screaming
somewhere between terror and amazement.
They felt lighter than air as they hung there, and time seemed to stop
around them. Akane took hold of Ranma’s hands, and where their skin
tingled it now burned with a power that shots bolts of fire down their
nerves. Even as the gust seemed like it couldn’t get any stronger there
was one last frenzied burst of twisting howling air that hit them both
like a hammer blow.
Their eyes and minds swelled with the sight of a great pillar of soft
golden light that stretched into the heavens. That same warming radiance
filtered across cloudless skies in all directions from a great pyramid of
white stone that they suddenly and inexplicably understood to be a sort
of prism. Their perspective zoomed out away from the great pyramid
and the gorgeous pillar of light to reveal a green island riding a silvered
sea.
Their eyes went dark for a moment, and the image was gone. In it’s
place was a range of mountains that were surrounded by great orchards
of fig and olive trees, oranges and fields of grain. A city rose up from the
plains upon a wide mesa of sandstone and along the steep cliff edge was
a magnificent palace. Carved stone fountains in the form of lions spilled
forth sweet clear water into skillfully painted pools and flowed into
ingeniously crafted aqueducts that carried it throughout the entire palace.
Golden light touched everything in this place and exotic music played for
them as they watched.
This image vanished from their eyes with a roar of the wind, and
they fell roughly to the stone floor of the chamber. Breath was stolen
from them as they struck the freezing cold flagstones. They gasped in
terror and pain as the winds died away around them.
Hiro and Ferguson were at their sides first.
“Saotome! Akane-chan! Are you okay?” Hiro cried.
Ranma lifted his head and drew a stuttering breath. His eyes were
bloodshot, and in fact a trickle of blood ran down his chin from his nose.
“Alhambra...” He said in hoarse croak, and collapsed to the
flagstones again. Frost formed where his moist breath touched the stone.
Akane sat up with a sob. She fell into Katy’s lap as she tried to stand.
“<Get Vickers in here at once!>” McFogg bellowed. Vickers was the
group’s physician.
“<Come on old bean,>” Ferguson said, helping Ranma sit up again.
“<Up we go.>”
“I think I’m gonna be sick,” Ranma said in reply, not caring that
Ferguson didn’t speak Japanese.
Hiro took Ranma from Ferguson and helped him into the corner,
where he heaved a few times with disappointing results.
**Dry heaves are the worst...** Hiro thought sympathetically.
“You gonna make it?”
Ranma nodded weakly. “Yeah...Remind me not to do that again.”
“Don’t worry, I will. Now wait here for Doctor Vickers.”
“No problem. I’ll just wait here.” He lay his head down on the
ground again, very glad that it was so cold on his face. He waited for
the chamber to stop spinning.
Akane recovered a little faster. She was on her feet and asking
about Ranma. He heard her and waved a limp arm over his head.
Clay stood in the corner and watched patiently.
“<Well that was exciting,>” he said quietly. No one heard him.
* * *
Ranma was fully recovered by the time Vickers made it up the hill,
which wasn’t long with Hiro prodding him along. The doctor had given
the both of them a quick exam and taken their vitals, which had
returned to normal.
Ranma now sat outside the mound and looked up at the grey sky,
trying to figure out what he had been through. Akane sat next to him
pondering the same. A troubled expression clouded her face. Hiro kept
a vigilant watch over them. The others argued over the data they had
collected and its significance.
Ferguson came up to them after a bit. He had a portable Kirlian in
his hands.
“<That was quite a spill you took in there,>” he said to them by way
of greeting.
Ranma nodded in agreement.
“<Do you mind if I scan you with this? You were right in the middle
of the biggest nexus surge I’ve ever encountered. Who knows, it might
have set you straight again.>”
Ranma nodded again. Ferguson ran the Kirlian over them and
studied the results.
“<Well?>” Akane asked.
“<Stand apart from each other now,>” Ferguson instructed. She did
so, and he scanned them individually.
He shook his head.
“<I’ve got bad news and I’ve got good news,>” he began. “<The
bad news is you’re still screwed up aura-wise. The good news is that it
doesn’t seem to be as severe as before. Sorry.>”
“<It’s not your fault,>” Ranma said evenly. “<We took a chance
and it didn’t work.>” He got up to his feet. “I’m going to take a walk,
see you in a little while.”
“You want some company?” Hiro asked.
“Nah, I just need a little time to myself. Watch over Akane for me,
okay?”
Hiro bowed once. “Sure thing, man.”
“I don’t need a baby-sitter,” Akane protested.
“I didn’t say you did,” Ranma returned. “But maybe you could keep
each other company?”
Akane realized that he wanted to be alone, and that there was little
point in arguing about it. She decided that she shouldn’t give Hiro a
hard time over it either.
“Have a seat,” she offered him. “You can tell me army stories about
him.”
Hiro smiled. “I could probably remember a few worth telling.”
Ranma left them and walked over the top of the mound to the other
side of the hill. He put some distance between himself and the others.
Then he looked around to make sure no one was watching.
“You were right about me not finding a cure,” he said to no one in
particular. Actually he had someone very particular in mind, but he
couldn’t see her. That didn’t mean she wasn’t there, however.
He waited. There was no reply.
“Look, I know you’re watching me, so just cut it out and talk to me.”
Again there was no reply. He began to get angry.
“Are you going to answer me or what?”
^Give me one reason why I should?^ Came Anazali’s voice in his
mind.
Ranma spun around to see if he could spot her. There was no one
around that he could see.
“Can’t you just make yourself visible for a few minutes?”
^Now why would I want to do that?^
“Because I’d feel a lot more comfortable talking to someone I can
see.”
^Maybe some other time.^
“Gee, thanks. Just out of curiosity, why is it that you’re following
me?”
^I think you’re special.^
Ranma snorted derisively. “I’m touched.”
^If you’re going to be so foul tempered, I should probably just be
on my way.^
“Whoa! Wait! I’m sorry! Don’t go!”
^That’s better... Now what is it that you want to ask me?^
“I suppose asking you who you really are would be a bit much?”
^Something like that.^
“Great... How about this: What was it that I was supposed to see in
there?”
^I don’t know. What did you see?^
“I saw this big gold light and a pyramid on some island. Then I saw
this castle in the desert. What’s it supposed to mean?”
Anazali was silent in his head for a moment. He could feel her
presence, but she wasn’t answering.
“Well?”
^The castle is a place you should probably visit soon.^
“And the pyramid?”
^A vision of the past. It is no more.^
That came as a surprise to him.
“I take it you know about the pyramid?”
^Only stories... I was never there.^
He got the impression from her that she didn’t want to discuss that
line of conversation any further.
“Okay, how about this then: Why me? Why Akane?”
^Why what?^
“You know what I mean. Why is it that we’re stuck in the middle
of this? Why couldn’t it be one of these guys chasing after these stupid
‘events’? They want to study them, not me.”
^I’m afraid I can’t answer that question, Ranma.^
“Can’t or won’t?”
^Can’t... I like you Ranma, and it pains me to see you and your
fiancée go through this. The fact is I had no idea it would be you any
more than you did. It just happened. But now you have a part to play
in this whether you like it or not. I’m here to help you, and if you do
as I instruct, this will be easier for you. If not, well... I’m not sure what
will happen to you. Maybe nothing more than having another curse to
deal with I suppose.^
Ranma thought about that for a moment. Anazali came across very
sincerely in his mind about wanting to help him. He decided he should
trust her, at least for the moment.
“And if I go along?”
^A cure for your affliction. Perhaps more. Have you ever really
wished for something important before?^
He thought about his Jusenkyo curse.
“Yeah...”
^At the end of these events lies the way to make a great many wishes
and dreams come true. The means will be there, all it requires is the will
to make it happen. Do you have the courage to continue this?^
“Of course I do!”
^Then you are already halfway there. Stay on the path and it will be
yours.^
“Does this mean I have to go through more of what I got in the
mound?”
^If you let the energy flow through you instead of standing in it’s
way, it won’t be so unpleasant next time. You can’t hold back the sea
with your hands you know!^
“So just keep ‘chasing the wind’ huh? Sounds easy enough.”
^Nothing so valuable was ever won so easily. You may have to give
something up to get what you desire.^
“So how do I know when I’m there, at the end that is?”
^You’ll know... For now I’ve said more than I should have, but I
think that’s because I like you too much. I must leave you now, but
don’t worry, I’ll be around. Farewell!^
“Uh, good-bye Anazali. Thanks.” **I think...**
He wasn’t sure how, but he felt her presence dissolve away.
Deciding that he wasn’t ready to go back to the others yet, he started
down the hill and walked towards Brodgar. The early afternoon sun felt
good on his face, and the breeze was calm and cool.
It didn’t take him long to reach the circle of Brodgar. The ancient
observatory was over a football field in diameter; large 16 foot tall slabs
of sandstone spaced every 6 degrees of arc about the circumference. Or
at least there were. Only 36 stones remained of the original 60 after
almost five thousand years of existence, and many of those were mere
stumps.
West and his men were breaking down the sensory gear and the
satellite transceivers as he stepped over the threshold of the circle. He
didn’t know West very well, had only seen him the previous night when
the men had come in from drinking at the pub in Kirkwall. West on the
other hand seemed to know him.
“<’Allo gov’,>” he greeted with a brief wave of his hand.
Ranma bowed slightly out of habit, and then returned the wave.
“<What brings you ‘ere?>”
Ranma shrugged, “<looking around.>”
West gestured to the stones. “<A real piece of ‘istory ‘ere gov’. The
Picts or their ancestors put this place up about 2900 BCE. No machines,
no engineering skills, just brute strength.>”
“<BCE?>”
“<Before Christian Epoch,>” West explained. “<It’s a little pretentious
I’ll grant you, but it seems a lot of scientists are atheists these days. Tack
the ‘E’ on the end of BC and that’s all that it means.>”
“<Oh.>”
Ranma looked around again at the vast grassy field. The stones stood
in mute testimony to an ancient people’s ambition. He hadn’t thought
about it much before, but now he found that he was quite impressed with
their accomplishments. There was nothing in Japan as magnificent as this
with a similar antiquity.
“<What did they do here?>” He asked West.
West looked up from stowing a length of cable into a padded shipping
box.
“<In the days when all the stones were in place, you could track the
moon’s orbit around the earth. They ‘ad a nice lunar calendar with this
circle. They could predict the phases of the moon, when the next lunar
eclipse would come, things like that. It’s a little odd though, the ancient
Celtic cultures usually tracked solar phenomenon. Almost all of the
surviving stone circles in the UK are solar related you know.>”
Ranma didn’t, but he nodded anyway.
“<We ‘ad quite an Event today,>” West went on. “<Biggest I’ve
seen yet. Missed the Nerima Event, but Ferg says this one was bigger.
Must ‘ave been bloody impressive at Maes ‘owe from all the juice
Brodgar sent it.>”
“<You could say that,>” Ranma replied evenly.
A man in stained blue coveralls reported that all of the other gear was
stowed for the trip home. West pointed to the trucks and the Range
Rovers.
“<If you need a ride back to camp, you’d best be going now.>”
“<No thanks, I think I’ll stay here for now.>”
“<I’ll see you in camp then, ‘ave a nice day.>”
West and the others piled into the vehicles and rode away. Ranma
walked to the center of the circle and sat down. The sky was starting to
turn as gloomy as it had been in the morning.
**With my luck it’ll rain, he thought blackly.**
He needed to think. It was becoming clear to him as he twiddled his
pigtail that finding a cure for his unbalanced ki wasn’t going to come
soon. He only hoped this could all be resolved by the end of summer.
Akane needed to return to college.
Then there was the matter of Anazali and exactly who (or what) she
was. She knew a lot more about whatever he and Akane had been caught
up in, and she was keeping it to herself. Maybe she planned to fill him in
as they went along, but as for any motives behind it he had not a clue.
He trusted her so far. But that was mostly because she had been truthful
with him about not finding a cure here.
Lastly there was her tempting little suggestion that he could end
his Jusenkyo curse by continuing this crazy hunt for ‘events’ to its
conclusion.
**Wouldn’t that be nice...I’d never become a girl again.**
Over the last three years he had grown accustomed to his peculiar
transformation. He had even used it to his advantage numerous times.
It still didn’t change the fact that he hated it. Every time he felt his body
shrink and his limbs grow weaker, every time the flood of whatever it
was that coursed through a woman’s bloodstream addled his brain, it
was in every way to him a curse. It didn’t matter that people found his
female form beautiful, he’d trade them in a heartbeat to be normal.
And that is what made Anazali’s proposition so damned tempting.
Ferguson said they had improved a little since before, suggesting that he
and Akane could be restored before the end. What was he going to do if
they were cured before the last event?
He lay back on the grass and stared up into the sky, thinking. After
awhile he realized that he was getting nowhere and that he was hungry.
He decided that maybe he should share this with someone else. Hiro
already knew a little about Anazali, and being here was as much for
Akane as it was for him. He just wondered how she was going to take
news of this ‘other woman’.
As he got to his feet and started back for the camp it began to rain.
His transformation into a girl came within minutes. Fortunately she was
wearing her Chinese clothes, which were a simple adjustment of sash and
draw strings to fit her diminutive form. Her camouflage jacket was now
a small cloak for her head and shoulders.
**Yep...** she thought grimly. **It’d be nice to be rid of this curse.**
Chapter Five
“What do you mean, ‘it was him’?” Ivan Tarchenko asked gravely.
Fyodor glowered down at him. “It was the same man who has been
ghosting us for months, Comrade Tarchenko.”
“You’re sure?”
“I was but meters away from him.”
“Then why didn’t you kill him?”
Fyodor thought back to that night and his fierce desire to do just that.
“I tried... He had some power over me, I couldn’t even lift my rifle
against him. His stare was so intense that I had to look away. I think I
blacked out from shock.” He pointed to the large bandage that swathed
his leg above the knee and covered the through and through stray bullet
wound.
“Nonsense Fyodor. I know you to have sustained far worse in
Afghanistan and continued to perform. Unless your service record isn’t
entirely accurate, that is.”
Fyodor glowered some more at the thinly veiled slight. But he kept
his silence.
“What do you want me to do?” He asked slowly.
Tarchenko thought a moment.
“In spite of your clumsy handling of this entire affair, I still have
some use for you. Report to the Station Chief in Paris for an update
on Professor McFogg’s group. You will take over the surveillance from
Antonov. Your objective will be to keep track of the two Wayfinders.
Follow them wherever they go. When I give the word, you will abduct
them and take them to the nearest Embassy. Hold them there until I
can join you.”
Fyodor’s surprise was evident.
“Embassy, Comrade?”
Tarchenko understood the nature of Fyodor’s surprise. “It seems that
Yeltsin’s bid for reelection is gaining strength. Our backers are nervous
that he may succeed in July. To this end they are willing to cash in
favors with the apparatchiks to gain the prize we seek.”
“And this ‘Heart of the World’ will put them back in power? Why
not kill Yeltsin instead?”
“It’s not so simple,” Tarchenko scoffed. “The coup against him
failed because the people wouldn’t support it. Even the Army sided
against us. If he wins in July another coup would meet the same fate.
Even if we killed him, the people would never support Zhukerov and
without the Army we could never stay in power. There would be anarchy
on such a scale that the United Nations would be compelled to step in to
prevent a nuclear conflagration. -Or at least that would be their pretext
for invading.”
“But your ‘Heart of the World’ would change that.” Fyodor didn’t
seem convinced.
“I’ve seen what it can do, Fyodor. I’ve seen photographs of the
devastation in Siberia from 1908. There is power there that is
unimaginable. We wouldn’t need the Army to rule Russia. I daresay
we wouldn’t need them to rule the world.”
It was Fyodor’s turn to scoff. “I think this is a dangerous pipe
dream.”
“Believe what you will Fyodor Gennadiyvich,” Tarchenko said
sternly. “Do as you are told and you will be rewarded handsomely.”
Fyodor’s eyes fell to the open file on Ranma and Akane. He looked
closely at them and grumbled, “I still do not see how these two children
could be so important. Even if they are the ‘Wayfinders’. But I will do
as you instruct.”
“We need those Wayfinders, Fyodor. Old Casimir is still tinkering
with his model, but without the American supercomputers it will take
more time than we have to make it work. I don’t need to stress that we
need them alive and well? Or that discretion would be wise with our
national reputation on the line?”
Fyodor shook his head slowly and suppressed a growl.
Tarchenko left the file on the desk with a large sum of American
Dollars. As he walked to the door he looked back over his shoulder
to Fyodor.
“I’m off to St. Petersburg. My absence is becoming a bit conspicuous
I’m afraid. Do contact me when you get to Paris.”
“What of the three who escaped?”
“In spite of your bungling, without any hard evidence their story will
be hard to believe. But in any event I’ve ordered our European agents to
be on the lookout for them at all Japanese diplomatic houses. Accidents
do happen you know.”
* * *
Kelebros sailed on through the darkened waters of the Marmaran Sea.
The Black Sea was behind them and soon they would reach the Aegean.
By Nabiki’s estimate of their speed and a chart Aerandir laid out for her,
it would only be a few days. She would have preferred it be sooner, as
her father and sister were certainly worried sick by now.
Aerandir and Kuno were on the foredeck discussing the stars and
other things nautical. Nabiki had to laugh about that. Kuno was as much
a sailor as she was a samurai. That their handsome benefactor actually
enjoyed the boorish kendoist’s company was even more amusing. (Or
disturbing depending on how you looked at it.)
It was getting late though, and she realized that she was very tired.
Ukyo lay dozing in a deck chair on the afterdeck. A blue woolen blanket
lay over her, thoughtfully provided by Aerandir. She was feeling weak
and sick again. Aerandir declared that they would put into a port closer
than their destination if her condition worsened, but in the meantime a
little rest would be best for her.
She went forward, steadying herself against the rocking of the ship.
Her sea legs were a little slow in coming to her, but at least she didn’t
get seasick. That might have been part of Ukyo’s present condition in
and of itself. **The Russians’ drugs couldn’t still be affecting her, could
they?**
Aerandir inclined his head towards her in recognition.
“What might I do for you, Nabiki?” It had taken only one prompting
to get him to drop her surname from his addresses to her, something
she had never been able to do with Kuno. Which is why she continued
to call him ‘Kuno-baby’.
“I was feeling a little tired and I thought I would offer you a good-
night and a thank you for all you’ve done for us.”
“My pleasure Nabiki. My cabin is yours for the duration.”
Nabiki blushed a little at that. **Was that a proposition?**
“I shall keep the Blue Thunder company tonight,” Aerandir continued.
If he was aware of Nabiki’s reaction he made no sign. “It’s rare that you
find someone with such a keen interest in the stars. I have a hammock
that strings nicely from the main mast to the stanchions. You are welcome
to join us if you like, I’m sure I have another lying about somewhere.”
“Uh thanks, but I think I’ll go below.”
“As you wish. Good night.”
“Fare thee well Nabiki Tendo, may your sleep be untroubled and
your dreams pleasant,” Kuno added.
“Thanks Kuno-baby!” Tatewaki Kuno could be such a darling when
he wasn’t paying attention to himself.
She turned and started aft. She gently woke Ukyo, and offered to
help her below. Ukyo would have none of that, insisting that she was
fine. They both stepped softly down the ladder and through the galley to
Aerandir’s cabin. There wasn’t much below decks other than the galley
and storeroom, the cabin, and a bathroom forward. Nabiki wondered if
he lived full time on the ship and decided that somehow he did.
There was only one bed in Aerandir’s cabin, but that wasn’t going to
be a problem. Especially so if Kuno and Aerandir were going to take turns
in a hammock topside. She walked over to the sandalwood wardrobe and
found some night clothes for her and Ukyo to wear to bed. They were
a little skimpy, but then she had no problems with that either.
She handed the more conservative of the two outfits to Ukyo, a sheer
black satin chemise that was quite daring of hemline but otherwise
harmless. Ukyo had prettier legs than she did in her opinion anyway. For
herself she chose a red chemise with a plunging neckline and a hemline
that came a close second to Ukyo’s.
Ukyo stripped out of her frock and slipped into the chemise.
“Very nice,” she observed. “I might have to look into one of these
when we get home.”
“Like I said before, I just hope _he_ doesn’t wear this stuff,” Nabiki
replied. “The way he maneuvered us down below so he could have Kuno
all to himself makes me wonder.”
Ukyo frowned. “You don’t possibly think he’s...”
“Anything’s possible,” Nabiki countered. “We don’t know all that
much about him really.”
“These clothes he has lying around suggest a taste for ladies, Nabiki.”
Nabiki had a counter for that argument, but decided not to go there.
Instead:
“Well I’ll tell you this: you and I weren’t the only ones he bathed
last night.”
Ukyo remembered her startling revelation of the morning quickly
enough. With Aerandir the only person on board Kelebros, he was the
only one who could have stripped them out of their wet clothes, bathed
them, and tucked them all into his bed.
“Oh?” She asked.
“Yep. You know how you smelled of lilacs, and I of jasmine? I
remember Kuno-baby smelling like _roses!_”
Ukyo grinned. “Well at least he got the right flower for him. But
that still doesn’t mean anything. And how did _you_ know what Kuno
smelled like anyway?”
Nabiki became suddenly defensive. “Well I happened to be the one
lying next to him. It could have been _you_, you know.”
“Sounds like Aerandir got it right again,” Ukyo chuckled.
Nabiki arched an eyebrow. “Just what are you implying, Ukyo?”
“I’ll leave that for you to decide.”
“Oh please!” Nabiki sniffed. “We’re just friends. That’s all we are,
so don’t go getting any other ideas.”
“Yeah, but you’re one of the only _friends_ he has. Even if you’re
always swindling him, you never bleed him for more than he can afford.”
“That’s just good business practice,” Nabiki sniffed.
“I think it’s more.”
“Will you stop!” Nabiki cried. She swatted Ukyo with a pillow. Not
hard mind you, just enough to bowl her over. Unfortunately Ukyo
wasn’t her usual vibrant self, so the blow came rather hard.
“Omigosh! I’m sorry Ukyo!” Nabiki cried. “I didn’t mean to hit
you so hard!”
Ukyo looked up from under the pillow. “No damage done. I’m okay.”
“I’m so sorry,” Nabiki continued.
“I said I’m all right. Just a little weak in the knees I guess. I
haven’t got my sea legs yet.”
“Me neither.”
“Well hurry up and change, I could use a little sleep tonight.”
Nabiki sighed and took off her clothes. She set them on the chair
next to Ukyo’s frock and slipped into her chemise. Ukyo made room for her
in the bed and pulled the covers over them when Nabiki got settled.
“It would be just like Kuno to try something in the middle of the
night,” Nabiki said as Ukyo switched off the lights.
“Well try not to make too much noise together and I might sleep
through it.”
Nabiki sizzled next to her.
“Will you stop that!”
“Good night Nabiki,” Ukyo giggled.
“I’m not sorry. I should have hit you harder.”
“Good night Nabiki.”
“Sigh... Good night Ukyo.”
* * *
The rain had slowed to a drizzle when Ranma-chan returned to the
camp. The propane lights glowed cheerfully beneath the pavilion as
shadows of men played across the red and white plastic. Akane waited
for her with dry clothes and a steaming mug of cocoa.
“When it started raining I knew you wouldn’t be gone for long,” she
said to Ranma-chan.
“Thanks Akane,” she replied and accepted the mug.
Professor McFogg, Ferguson, Katy and Clay were gathered around
the table in a discussion. A few techs and research assistants scuttled to
and fro with hardcopy and thick data files. A photographer from the
National Geographic Society took a few snapshots of them.
Ranma-chan took a seat on a folding chair that Hiro presented for her.
“Don’t you want to change?” Akane asked her, holding up the shirt
and trousers she had taken from his bag.
“Not yet. Wait ‘til I’m a guy again.”
“I was just trying to make you comfortable,” Akane groused.
“Thanks Akane.” Her words seemed to take away Akane’s edge.
McFogg and Ferguson seemed to be discussing something important.
Both liked to talk with their hands, and at the moment their limbs were
flailing all over the table as they spoke. Clay injected a few comments
here and there but wasn’t taking any sides.
“What’s going on with them?” Ranma-chan asked.
Hiro looked up from his cup of cocoa and gave them a dismissive
wave of his hand.
“This is usual for them after an event. They’re arguing about the
findings. Until the computer analysis comes back they’ll keep at it. I’m
surprised Ferguson and Miss Price aren’t at each others’ throats yet.”
“Why is that?” Akane asked.
“Ferguson doesn’t believe the computer’s predictions are worth
much anymore. Katy believes the opposite. That and I think they’ve
got the hots for each other.”
He looked at Ranma-chan and Akane sitting next to each other.
“Come to think of it, it explains a lot,” he continued.
“<I don’t think we have a lot of time to discuss this,>” Clay said
during a brief pause in the discussion. “<I have a strong feeling the
time is now to move on.>”
“<At least wait for the analysis,>” Katy protested.
“<Pfaagh!>” Ferguson snorted.
Katy narrowed her eyes evilly at him.
“<I think what Mister Clay is saying is that the next event will come
sooner than we are expecting,>” McFogg soothed.
“<Quite correct Professor,>” Clay confirmed.
“<But Spain? Even without the analysis, Spain is _way_ off from the
established trend.>” Katy said defiantly.
“<Just proves my point about the model’s failure, dear.>” Ferguson
chuckled.
“<You keep out of this!>” Katy snapped. She turned back to Clay.
“<And just where did you _get_ this wild notion from?>”
Clay was unperturbed. “<Ranma spoke a word immediately following
the event. That word was ‘Alhambra’. Alhambra is the name of a
Moorish castle in Granada, Spain.>”
“<What he said was gibberish. He could have been cursing in
Japanese for all we know,>” Katy countered.
“<Hiro stated that the only thing Ranma said in his native tongue
was that he was going to be sick.>”
McFogg had left the table by this point and was walking over to
Ranma-chan. It was still a little unnerving to see him as a buxom young
woman, but he supposed things could only get stranger from here and
that he’d best get used to it. Ranma-chan smiled coquettishly for him.
“<Hey Professor,>” Ranma-chan said in greeting.
“<Hello Ranma, we’re just a bit wet are we?>”
“<Got caught in the rain.>”
McFogg nodded and sat down across from the three Japanese.
“<I’m sorry we couldn’t find a solution for your problem here,>” he
began.
“<That’s okay,>” Ranma-chan replied.
“<I do have a proposition for you. Ferguson tells me you did
experience some improvement today. Perhaps another go in another
place might help even more.>”
“<I thought about that myself.>”
“<Splendid! To be honest with you though I must say this: my
group may well need you far more than you need us. I don’t understand
how or why, but I feel that you and your fiancée are tied to these events
now... If we are ever to find the answers we seek, we need your
continued support.>”
Akane looked a little surprised.
“<What does that mean exactly?>”
The Professor gave her a fatherly smile. “<You can sense these
events as they happen. Somehow you are connected with them. Again
I can’t say how or why, but you are. You can help us find the others.>”
“<How many others?>” Ranma-chan asked.
“<I don’t know. I can tell you that we are close to the end. I have
been chasing these events directly for the last seven years, and there
have been more events in these last twelve months than in all of the
other six years combined. They seem to be coming faster and faster
with each one.>”
“<So you need us to come with you?>” Ranma-chan asked hope-
fully.
Akane looked at Ranma-chan in further surprise.
“<That’s it exactly!>” The Professor cried. “<I assure you that you
will be well taken care of.>”
“<You’ve done so much for us already, I’m not worried about it.>”
“<So you will accompany us to Spain?>”
“<If it’s the next stop, sure!>”
“<Splendid! You have my deepest gratitude!>”
McFogg shook Ranma-chan’s hand vigorously and excused himself
as Clay and Ferguson called him back to the table.
“Hey all right Saotome, looks like you’ll be with us for a little
longer,” Hiro said happily. “I was going to miss you two.”
Akane looked at Ranma-chan in wonderment.
**What the heck’s come over him? I thought he hated all this... He’s
got a lot of explaining to do tonight.**
Ranma-chan sat back in her chair and smiled.
End of Part Five
Author’s Notes:
1) As explained in the narrative, Maes Howe and the other megalithic
sites on Orkney Island are primarily aligned for lunar events and for
rituals involving the Winter Solstice. Most of the megalithic sites in
the UK are tied to solar events such as the vernal and autumnal
equinoxes and the summer solstice, which is a major event in the
Celtic religions. Palladium Books’ ‘Beyond The Supernatural’ was
my primary reference for the descriptions of the sites, so if there are
any discrepancies between the real sites and my portrayal of them,
you know where I erred.
2) Kuno’s stand at the Dniester River includes several quotations from
Wm. Shakespeare’s ‘Macbeth’. His “I have supp’d full of horrors”
line is Macbeth’s, as is the infamous “Lay on MacDuff...Hold,
Enough!” line. The other quotation is MacDuff’s “Make all our
trumpets speak...” Kuno’s wistful “This poet lies...” remark to Ukyo
and Nabiki comes from the Sonnets.
3) I hope I wasn’t too far over anyone’s head with the nautical
dialogue aboard the (former) Red Banner Black Sea Fleet frigate.
4) We're halfway done. Hang in there!
Free The Nukes!