Subject: [fanfic][beta] BGC/Ranma: The Circe Project pt. 8
From: Nightelf
Date: 11/10/1996, 6:47 AM
To: Fanfic ML


Nightelf (nwl9354@tam2000.tamu.edu) presents...

The Circe Project 

Part 8

A work of anime fanfiction by Nicholas Leifker, aka "Nightelf"

Ranma 1/2 characters created by Rumiko Takahashi.  Bubblegum Crisis 
characters created by Kenichi Sonoda.  All other characters created by 
me.  I must ask that you not do anything with any part of this work 
without permission.

Enjoy the show...

*****************************************************************************

     The air was thick with tension inside the garage's living room.  
With last night's events still fresh in everyone's mind, there was 
little left to the imagination as to the topic of discussion.  Couples 
held each other close, as though their close proximity would protect them 
from the darkness.  The rest looked outward, at the walls, their feet, 
each other...somewhat pessimistic about the future, but looking to it
anyway.

     Sylia entered the room, looking much the grim reaper in her black 
suit and somber face.  Her gaze shifted from one person to another, her 
family gathered around her at this supposedly joyous, but now darkened 
time.  She thought of the times and tragedies they had shared, as well 
as those they would share.  The warrior and scientist took in a long, 
deep breath, then began, her voice solemn and quiet.

     "Thank you for coming so promptly.  I..." She nearly broke down as 
the crumbling shell of her professionalism fought the swelling fear 
inside her.  "I will never be able to tell you how much I appreciate your 
company."  

     She breathed deeply, then sighed, in an effort to contain her 
thoughts.  "On 8 December, a red flag went up on the Saber mainframe.  I 
had programmed it to look for certain cases - ones in which a person 
would turn up missing with a strange animal on the scene, or cases like 
the one last night, a freak malady with no logical explanation."

     "Since that time, there have been no less than twenty-seven cases of 
this nature in MegaTokyo alone, and over a hundred around the globe.  All 
of the victims were opponents of Genom in some way...union leaders... 
politicians...policemen."  She bore her gaze into Leon, making sure he 
got the point.  

     "Last night's attack of Reika Chang was by far the most notorious.  
It means that someone at Genom wants his enemies dead - now."

     "Quincy," Nene whispered.

     Strangely enough, Sylia smiled.  "Yes...and no.  Genom has been 
going through some serious changes in its hierarchy over the past few 
weeks...sideways maneuvering, forced retirement, disappearances...All of 
this points to one thing: Someone new is in charge at Genom.  Judging by 
the fact that Quincy is ordering the changes, I am led to the conclusion 
that someone has killed Quincy and set up a Boomer duplicate."

     "For now, here are the orders: Mackie, Ranma, get changed.  You're 
going to visit a young lady in a padded cell - who just happens to claim
to be a disappeared union director.  Nene, get your Box ready.  You're 
going to be making some practice hacking runs.  The information you need 
is in the main computer.  Everyone else...be careful...and be ready.  
According to the data from the laboratory, those with Jusenkyo curses 
have immunity to the change.  However, what none of you have is an 
immunity to bullets.  Be ready for the call at any time.  As for me, I 
have...I have an errand to run."  She strode purposefully to the
door, then stopped before leaving, as though she had forgotten something.  
"Take care, everyone."

     Everyone stared at each other for a long moment, surprised at the 
relative briefness - and sudden ending - of the meeting.  Slowly, one by 
one, they got up, and went to their respective tasks.  After all, they 
had work to do, and little time to do it.

*****************************************************************************

     Snow fell down on the MegaTokyo streets, its soft flurries drifting 
lazily onto the sidewalk, only to melt and refreeze to slippery, 
shimmering ice.  This surface provided a trecherous road for the 
businessmen and women to travel...primarily the women, trying to do their 
best to walk in a dignified manner in high heels, usually with varying 
degrees of success.

     As it happened, the younger of the two women walking down this 
particular stretch of sidewalk was trying to walk in any manner...and was 
not having much success at that.

     "Ranma, how much practice haAAAAAVE!"  Mackie slipped on the ice, 
Ranma's steady hands the only thing between her and the loss of much of 
her 'feminine modesty'.  Ranma lifted the young man-turned-woman back on 
her feet, then steadied her.

     "Too much, Mackie...too much.  More stories for when I'm really 
drunk.  If it helps, think of it as a balance exercise - you won't worry 
about it so much."  She brushed a bit of snow off of Mackie's dress, then 
opened the door for her.

     A bored-looking middle-aged clerk waited at the front desk as the 
two entered.  He didn't even bother to glance at the two women, choosing 
to instead offer an impersonal hand out to them.  

     "Papers, please."

     "Of course."  Mackie opened her briefcase, pulled out a small manila 
envelope, and handed it to him.  "We're here to see patient 24601."

     The clerk pulled the envelope in front of him, glanced at its 
contents for a brief moment, then pushed a button on the desk.  A secure
door opened at one end of the room.  "Room 115.  Code key is 4975.  Have 
a nice day," he mumbled, his tone completely passionless.  Mackie 
shrugged, then headed through the door, quickly followed by her mentor.

     A strange laughter echoed through the halls as they walked to 
their destination - a hideous cackle that sounded like glass 
rubbing together.  Ranma stepped to the side, looked in a room...and 
turned white as a sheet.  She quickly walked away, dragging a 
still-uncoordinated Mackie behind her.

     "What was that?"

     "Stray dog." 

     Thanks to Ranma's haste, the two quickly reached their destination.  
The martial arts master approached the keypad, typed the code in, and opened 
the door. 

     Both women fought for control of their emotions as they took a look 
at the creature residing within.  She sat on the bed, knees pulled up to 
her chin, her eyes glued to empty space.  Overall, she was quite 
attractive, with a relatively slender build, short blond hair, and a 
smooth face, if a bit expressionless.  It was the eyes, though, which got 
their attentions...Confusion and fear ruled in the soul beneath.  The 
patient made no move to greet her guests; indeed, she didn't even 
acknowledge their existence.

     Mackie and Ranma took places on either side of her, each placing a 
reassuring hand on her shoulders.  "Hello.  My name is...Mackie...and 
this is Ranma."

     "My name is James LaBelle."  She said the words fiercely, implying 
that she would not allow any words to the contrary.

     "We know...James."

     Needless to say, this was not the sort of response she'd been 
expecting.  She turned to Mackie imploringly.  "You...know?"

     "James...you'd better brace yourself.  You're not going to like what 
you hear."

     Mackie sighed, and began pulling out files from her briefcase.  This 
was probably going to be the most depressing job of her life.

*****************************************************************************

     Ranma looked at her watch.  Forty-five minutes had gone by so far.  
They only had fifteen more before they had to leave.

     This was perhaps the most difficult job she'd ever faced since she 
met the Stingrays...the most heartbreaking...and, yet, the most necessary.  
The second she looked in the young woman's eyes, she knew.  She _knew_.  
Once upon a time, she had sat drying in the afternoon sun, her body worn 
from an angry run...with precisely that same look in her eyes.  Then, she 
numbly listened to the guide's words, unable to absorb anything save the 
magnitude of her loss. It took a few days to realize it was only 
temporary...sort of...and go on.  When she first met Mackie, a bit of 
that look lingered in her eyes, causing her to suspect the truth.  

     Now, there was James, a case different from hers and Mackie's, but 
not totally unfamiliar.  She had faced the permanent loss of her manhood 
before, from Cologne...Herb...Each round had scared her, shaken her to
the core, as though she had transformed for the first time...but she 
fought on.

     Apparantly, so will James...Jamie...with a little help: From family 
if she can get it, from friends if she can't.  Her eyes, red from tears, 
looked a little different now...still scared, but with some hope in them.

     "Mackie, Jamie...much as I hate to say this, it's time for us to 
go.  We have much to take care of today, including a nice long chat with 
your wife."   

     Jamie nodded, and managed a weak smile.  "Tell her...I love her 
and...I know the marriage is gone, but...what I really need from her 
is...a friend."

     "I will."

****************************************************************************

     Waiting was not the thing Priss wanted to do when she first became a 
Knight Saber.  Back then, her thoughts were consumed by vengeance - she 
wanted Quincy's head on a silver platter, served with a side order of 
french fries.  Now, though...she didn't mind waiting so much, though it 
still irked her during tense situations.  

     If any situation was tense, this was it.  Genom had developed the 
ultimate assassin's weapon.  Worse, they were using it with alarming 
frequency.  She was immune, only because they'd already taken care of 
her.  But Leon...

     She looked up at her love, her head resting in his lap, his fingers 
gently running through her hair.  He'd had less-than-pleasant dealings 
with Genom in the past...this made him a possible target.  She had come 
to accept her change.  It gave her a new perspective, an interesting way 
of looking at life.  

     At the end of Sylia's talk, an image formed in her mind, one she has
since been trying to forget.  Leon...slowly...painfully...transforming, 
his strong hands morphing into paws, his face changing, his body growing 
fur...She couldn't accept a permanent change from him.  If it happened...
if it happened, she'd strap a neutron bomb to her back and fly into Genom 
Tower.  It scared her, even more than the fear she felt when she realized 
her own transformation.

     She reached a hand up to his face, and started to feel the lines.  
The small scar near his left ear, the little area under his chin that he 
can't quite shave properly...each touch etching in her mind, just in
case.  She knew now, and could admit...she loved him.  It had been such a
long, painful road to get this far, and they would _never_ take that
away, not while she had life in her.

     *RIIIIINNGG...RIIIIINNGG*

     "Hello?"  Leon's tenor was soft, subdued by the moment.

     "Hello.  Is Priss there?"

     "Yes.  Just a moment."  He waited to allow Priss to sit up properly, 
then handed her the phone.

     "Priss here."

     "Hi.  This is Rob Carr, vice-president of operations for Tiger 
Records.  I was impressed with your performance last night, and was 
wondering if you would be interested in auditioning for a recording 
contract."

     Ohman...this was too much.  "I...would be interested in 
auditioning."  Somehow, she kept her composure enough to keep from 
screaming. 

     "Excellent.  When would you be interested in coming down to our 
studio?" 

     Priss shook her head, trying to focus..."If you don't mind, I would 
like to wait until after Christmas to audition."  

     "Very well.  Would two o'clock on the 28th be acceptable?"

     "Yes.  That would be a good time."

     "Good.  Contact my secretary before the audition, and she'll 
provide you with directions."

     She said her goodbyes and hung up, her body numb.  Either this was 
the ultimate dream, or the ultimate nightmare.  She hadn't figured out 
which yet.  

****************************************************************************

     Throughout her many travels, Sylia Stingray had seen all types of 
security.  Boomer bodyguards, laser targeting systems, disorientation 
blasts...she had seen all of these and more, designed such systems, and 
figured out ways to get around all of them.

     All except this.  Sometimes the old ways are still the best.

     The director of the Knight Sabers put up with the search with her 
usual quiet dignity, smiling to herself as she contemplated the 
old-fashioned human security guards.  She had tried to figure out a way 
to get quietly around these guards, servants devoted to their master far 
more than money or life, and came up empty-handed.  

     Finally cleared for admission, she made a few slight adjustments to 
her suit, and walked into the dimly lit, spacious office.

     Inside...an old man sat in a highbacked mahogany chair, silently 
crying as he swam in his own thoughts.  He looked small, vulnerable, but 
with a hint of the fire that had made him the director of Hou Bang.  She 
drew in a ragged breath as she noticed the small charcoal-gray cat in 
his lap, mournfully purring as the old man stroked her.  His eyes peered 
at Sylia intently, trying to see the secrets beneath.

     "I...understand...you know what happened to my Reika."  Such a 
strong voice from that frail body...

     "Y-yessir.  I...My name is Sylia Stingray.  I am the leader of the 
group known as the Knight Sabers."

     A crooked eyebrow raised on the wizened face.  "Amazing that such 
beauty would go together with such power.  Also, that you would take 
such a risk by going out into the open."

     Sylia nodded grimly.  "These are desperate times, sir."  She opened 
her briefcase and pulled out a small data unit.  "All of the information 
is on here."

     "I need no data!" he hissed, shocking in his fury.  "There are only 
two things I need to know."

     The Knight Saber nodded, guessing the questions.  "First of all, 
there is no way to reverse the...the transformation."  Her own face was 
etched with anger.  "Second...Genom."

     Chongk Chang nodded, unsurprised by the answers.  "Thank you.  Please 
leave the data unit on the desk.  I...must apologize for my lack of 
manners.  The past day has been a terrible strain on me."

     Sylia placed the unit on the desk.  She then bowed deeply to the 
old man before leaving.  "I am sorry this happened, sir.  I assure you 
Genom will not go unpunished."

     Much to Sylia's surprise, Chang managed a wry smile.  "Truer words 
were never spoken, Miss Stingray.  Good luck in your endeavors."    

     "Thank you, sir.  May fortune bless your efforts as well."  She 
turned around and walked out of the office, giving a warm greeting to the 
guards as she left.

     Fortunately, leaving did not take as long as entering.  The guards 
grimly returned the salutations, and continued to eye her warily as she 
walked out without delay to her car.  As she walked, she analytically 
scanned her surroundings, ready for any danger to her person or any 
inconsistency.  Nothing seemed out of the ordinary...men and women going 
about their daily business as they traversed from one place to another...

     Then she saw her.  A young woman, about 25 physically, stood against 
the wall near her car.  Everything about her - the perfect alabaster skin, 
the unnatural glint to the eyes, her emotionless demeanor - everything 
screamed "boomer".

     In the last instant, she looked for any area to use as cover, and
found none.  She was either dead to rights...or extremely paranoid.

     The "boomer" turned from her without a thought and walked casually 
down the street, away from Sylia's position.  The scientist stared at the 
retreating creature for a moment, wondering the meaning behind it.

     Then she looked down.

     She ran for the car without even bothering to check for traps, and 
gunned the engine.  She hadn't a moment to lose.

*****************************************************************************

     "So...how was your little trip to the psych ward?"  Nene didn't 
bother to turn from her computer as Mackie and Ranma walked into the 
room, both back in their natural forms...and grateful for it.  The 
two looked at each other, then back at her.

    "It was...good.  We arranged a few union contacts in Genom thanks to 
Jamie's help.  They were apparantly organizing a strike before her 
disappearance."  Mackie couldn't bring himself to talk about the rest.  
"How is your hacking going?"

     "Box, status report."  

     "Of course, Mistress.  Infiltration into the lower levels has proven 
a simple task; however, we have reached an obstacle with the Level 3 
security."

     "Mind if I-"

     * BEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEP *

     Mackie pressed a button on the communication console.  The image 
that appeared would be one he would never forget.  Behind him, Nene 
gasped, covering her face with one hand.

     "Hello, Mackie."  Sylia stared back out from the computer monitor.  
The way Sylia looked...it reminded Mackie of that morning so long ago, 
after he had first changed.  Something was clearly wrong with her.

     "What's wrong, sis?"

     She smiled weakly.  "Mackie...I...I'm dying."

     Noting the stunned expressions of the trio, she continued.  "I was 
hit with a needle.  If I'm right, I should start to change in less than 
an hour.  Unfortunately, due to my bioware...I'll never survive it."

     Mackie finally snapped out of his shock.  "Sylia, get back here - 
now.  We'll...we'll figure something out."

     Sylia just shook her head.  "No...it's too late for anything.  Thank 
you for the offer, though."

     Tears started to well in the first Knight Saber's eyes.  
"Mackie...you are now officially in command...the computer system has 
already been advised of your new status.  Also, there are data units for 
each of the team members in the safe, made for this situation."  

     "Mackie...there's so much I want to tell you...I'm so proud of you.  
You've grown up so much...Mackie, know that I love you and have always 
loved you.  I wish I could have seen you get married...have kids...but I 
guess it wasn't meant to be.  Tell everyone how much I have appreciated 
their friendship over the years.  Mackie...I have...something I need to 
do...I can't stay on.  Good bye, Mackie.  I love you."

     * bwip *

     "SIIIIIIIISSSSS!!!"

*****************************************************************************

Nicholas Leifker
"Nightelf"
nwl9354@tam2000.tamu.edu
http://http.tamu.edu:8000/~nwl9354
November 10, 1996