No preface, postface, only, if you want explanations and reasons
why. Comments and criticisms are appreciated, as short as the story
is.
Ranmatrix
There is Earth (narrow it down). There are continents (smaller
still). Off the coast of the largest landmass are a chain of
islands (closer now, but not nearly enough). There are cities on
these islands, which themselves are further divided into wards
(focus now, focus). On the one island, in the nation of Japan,
there is a city called Tokyo, and a ward called Nerima. In this
ward there is a dojo, called the Tendo dojo (there! that's the
one).
Ranma was not having a good day. Late afternoon already, and
things were not looking good. Ryoga after him for some reason-- a
new trick learned which he was trying out on Ranma and involved a
lot of silly hand gestures, but was strangely effective. Mousse,
too, trying to mummify Ranma, except with chains instead of linen
wraps. Tatewaki, of course. Akane was ready with a large, blunt
object which was formerly a table, and Ukyo with her gigantic
spatula. As everyone was about to converge on Ranma, he found a
reprieve in the door. More specifically, what was on the other side
of the door. More specifically, what the person on the one side of
the door was doing-- knocking.
On the other side of the door lay, well, stood, at any rate, a
man dressed fashionably in a pitch black suit with Rayban
sunglasses of the same night colour. The door opened, courtesy of
Ranma. The man smiled from behind his glasses, proferred a hand and
said, "Are you Ranma Saotome?" receiving confirmation in the form
of a blank nod of the head, the man continued. "I'm about to
welcome you to the real world."
Welcome to the real world. This is the earth, the _real_ earth,
shrouded in dark clouds. No sunlight hits the ground. Go deeper,
below the clouds, below the blasted and burnt ground, down, deep,
deeper still into the caverns and the tunnels. There are things
there, creations, not all of them man-made or man-designed. In one
such creation, a mobile habitat with broadcast abilities as well as
some defensive capabilities, people worked to overthrow the System,
also known as the Matrix. The people inside this craft, named the
Nebuchadnezzar, were special, even amongst those who were free from
the Matrix, for not only did the nigh-legendary Morpheus command
this ship, it was also where Neo, the One, resided. A man with the
power to affect and alter the Matrix, to bend it to his whim.
In this ship, in its dank and dreary environs, plans were being
formulated. "What did Zion say, Morpheus?" Neo asked the leader in
the planning session in the mess hall.
The tall, dark man replied, "Another recruitment. Something a
bit different about this one. Agents are already scouting this one
out. There are a few candidates there; we think they may already be
half-awakened."
"Half-awakened? What do you mean?" asked Trinity, sharp-nosed
and keen mind.
"That is what they said. It has happened in the past, but it is
unusual. Agents have a hard time finding them or taking them over.
They are not fully connected to the System. Observe and make
contact. Obviously with Agents around," Morpheus nodded to Neo,
"you'll be going in."
Neo nodded back. "Where and when?"
Morpheus smiled. "As to the latter, as soon as we're ready.
We're heading up to broadcast depth as we speak. The former? You
know better than that, Neo-- there are no places in the Matrix."
Neo rolled his eyes and murmurred something about a spoon. "But the
environs simulated with be that of Japan, Tokyo, Nerima Ward."
"Who is it we're looking for?" Trinity queried.
"Another team found them. One's called Ranma Saotome-- he seems
to be their centre, or their focus. It revolves around him. We've
approached him already, but agents got to our man, so we don't
actually know how much he knows about the war and the Matrix. Be
careful."
Neo's mouth quirked upwards into a smile. "When aren't we
careful?" Morpheus threw his head back and laughed, loud and rich
and booming, echoing throughout the ship.
An amazing feat of engineering and software programming. A
devious genius, to make a prison out of the prisoners, and to make
it so that if ever they got free, some would actually prefer to
come back. One subdivision of it was named Earth, Japan, Tokyo,
Nerima, Tendo dojo, dojo proper.
A simulation knock on a simulated door, because of course
nothing experienced was actually real, although that did not stop
it from being experienced, or from feeling any less real, and the
(non-existent) door opened.
"Ranma Saotome?" asked Neo, dressed fashionably in a pitch
black suit with Raybans of the same night colour.
The suspicious pig-tailed youth replied in a sullen voice,
"Yeah, who wants to know? You ain't one of those freaky Agent guys
or anything, are you?" Ranma did not proffer entry, and it should
be noted spoke from half-behind the door.
Neo laughed. "No, no I'm not. Definitely not one of those. I'm
with the other people. I'm Neo."
A woman, thin and pale and caucasoid, with sharp features and
black hair slicked into her head appeared from behind Neo, encased
in shiny, skin-hugging black PVC or leather pants and top. She wore
the trademark glasses as well. "What are you doing, Neo?" she asked
urgently. "He said observe, _then_ make contact. We know there are
agents in the area, but we don't know exactly where, or how many."
The door was fully opened now, and Ranma was pointing over
Neo's left shoulder. "How many of you guys are there, anyway? He
with you?"
Neo kicked backwards, too quick to be seen, sending the
outstretched gun of the Agent flying . Trinity took Ranma's hand
and pulled him along, shouting, "Run!" Ranma complied.
Ten blocks and a very small amount of time later, Ranma
stopped, causing Trinity to stop. "What the hell is going on?" he
asked.
Trinity sighed. "It wasn't supposed to be this way. We were
supposed to contact you quietly, and sneak you away from the Agents
we knew had to be watching you, so we could offer you the Choice."
"The Choice?" Ranma repeated dumbly.
Trinity nodded. "Better wait until Neo gets back-- he'll handle
the Agent." True to word, Neo appeared, walking determinedly
towards them. "Any trouble?" Trinity asked, knowing the answer
would be none, but it was a ritual by now.
Neo shook his head and then looked up at the building they were
in front of. "This'll do. Can you get the gear set up?" A quick nod
of confirmation, a peck on Neo's cheek and Trinity was escorting
Ranma into the generic-faced apartment complex.
In a room filled with strange and too-complex devices the likes
of which were beyond Ranma's fathoming, but included some strange
hook-up to the phone as well as a few oscilloscopes and screens and
keyboards, Neo stood before Ranma, hands outheld with the palms
facing up. On one hand was a small blue capsule. On the other hand
was a red capsule. "You know something isn't right with the world,
don't you, Ranma?" Neo said, intense and concentrated. "You've felt
it for a long time, haven't you? It's the Matrix. I can't tell you
what it is, just show you. I can offer you two things, the truth,
and freedom from the Matrix. That's this pill." Neo held up the red
pill. "The other pill, well, things go back the way they were and
you live out your life. Remember, all I'm offering is to see the
truth, Ranma."
Ranma looked up at Neo, and then his hand quickly came out and
snatched the red pill. "So, what happens next?" the young martial
artist said.
"Swallow it," was Trinity's response. Ranma put it in his mouth
and gulped it down.
"What next?"
"Just sit down here while we try to get a lock on you," Neo
said, pointing at a couch next to him. Trinity was already manning
the equipment. Neo smiled, "It'll feel like a weird trip, but you
made the right decision."
Ranma walked over to Neo, already a little wobbly. He was
smiling, slightly at first but growing wider and wider and more
feral with each step. Trinity looked up from a screen. "I'm not
getting anything," she said.
Ranma was sitting down on the couch by now, his grin
threatening to split his head in two. He held out his hand to Neo,
asking for help to stand. Neo complied and helped pull Ranma up.
Ranma used this momentum to spin himself around to Neo's back and
had the unsuspecting freedom fighter in a blood choke-hold. "Of
course you ain't getting anything," Ranma snarled. "It only tracks
you humans!" he crooned triumphantly.
Neo slammed his head back into Ranma's nose, breaking it and
causing Ranma to release his hold. "What the hell do you mean?
You're not an Agent!"
Ranma, now against a wall grinned, and dropped to a low crouch.
His left hand reached up to feel the blood coming from his nose. He
still had the same rictus grin on his face. "But Neo, don't you
understand? I am! Who do you think was the Agent that killed the
previous group who came to me?" Ranma cupped his hands together, a
yellow glowing light coalescing there. Neo looked at Trinity who
already had a gun out and pointing at Ranma. She fired, repeatedly.
All doubts as to what Ranma was stopped as he dodged the
bullets with ease, always keeping his hands in the same cupped
position and allowing the light to grow more and more. "You should
be honoured, Neo. I'm the next generation of Agents-- you had us so
worried that we had to come up with something new, something
better. Faster, stronger, sneakier. You're lookin' at him. Any last
words?" Ranma did not allow Neo time to say anything before
continuing. "Good. Moko takabisha!" and with that yell, Ranma
unleashed the energy he had been gathering straight at Neo, who
stood there.
The gold light washed over and around Neo, pushing him back
until he was touching Trinity, having stepped in front of her after
the bullets to keep himself in between Ranma and her. The wall
behind them were black and weakened. Small holes pitted an outline
around Neo's silhouette, but he himself was undamaged. Ranma was
both dismayed and confused. "What? How?" the next generation of
Agent sputtered.
"Didn't you forget? I'm the One. I make the rules, now. It was
a good try. You should have got me on the first try-- that was your
mistake, agent," and with that, Neo ran and dove into Ranma. The
new agent shrieked as his body convulsed and rippled until finally
it blew apart.
Neo stood where Ranma was only a fraction of a moment ago,
panting. "False alarm, Trin. Better let Morpheus know about this
new development." Trinity nodded, picked up her cell-phone and
spoke a few words. The two were gone, moments later.
On a darken and stormy planet where the sun never shines,
called Earth, the real Earth, there is a particular hive of metal
and plastics and ceramics, pulsing with... life, of a sort.
Sentience, at least, and one not friendly to that of humankind.
Somewhere, deep, deep down into the dark of this hive, down in its
ancient circuits, there is an old computer screen. On that computer
screen there is one word and one word only, blinking continuously
in phosphorous green: Damn.
Postface:
The recent and perhaps not-so recent (a few months ago) spate
of Ranma/Matrix fics all had a few things in common. 1. Ranma and
crew join the Resistance. 2. They have powers in the Matrix
comparable to that of the freedom fighters or even agents, and
that's previous to being awakened, as it were. 3. Ranma is female
in the real world.
I think this way is more logical. It explains why they have the
abilities they do. Originally the idea only called for them to be
agents-in-training, and that as intelligences themselves, they
needed to grow and develop their abilities, much as humans
themselves do, with the story ending when the truth of what they
are revealed to them. Coming back to the idea somewhat later, I
thought that in the war, the machines (now mindful of Neo's powers)
would become more sneaky. I believe this to be a more plausible and
complete explanation, rather than just "glitches in the Matrix" or
some such. And I never even got into how useful the metamorphic
abilities of Ranma and some of the others might be useful to
deceive the freedom fighters as well. ^_^
The title? A tri-fold play with words. One or two of them
should be immediately obvious. Kudos to anyone who gets all three
(I said Kudos, not Kunos, so keep your pants on there... please, I
beg you. Well okay, most of you. Not you though, sexy. Hey, why
don't we go somewhere a little more private than here and...).
Matthew Lewis is:
a proud member of Lumpy Pot Productions:
http://www.lumpypot.com
in need of updating his webpage at:
http://www.geocities.com/Tokyo/Flats/9345/index.html
ICQ# 54523631
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"The best in our natures is drowning in the worst."
-Lady Spenta Cama, The Ground Beneath Her Feet
by Salman Rushdie
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