This is going to be my entry into the Second Bet, once I get it into final 
form.  C&C is welcomed, and possibly begged for on bended knee.




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-- Attached file included as plaintext by Listar --
-- File: Accidental Bet prologue.txt

The Accidental Bet: Prologue

Disclaimer: None of it belongs to me.  Except possibly for Mr. Fuzzykins.

	A snore broke the silence in the small stone room.  Constructed entirely 
out of rough-hewn granite blocks, the room was almost completely bare of any 
distinguishing features.

	There were a few things that hinted that the room might be something more 
than it appeared, though.  The glowing moss that draped the walls of the 
room was one such hint, lighting up the area with a soft, sourceless 
illumination.

	The pool of water was another clue.  Surrounded by a low stone wall, it was 
situated in the exact center of the room.  Even though its walls gave the 
impression that there was no more than a few feet of liquid in the pool, the 
water was glassy and dark, suggesting that it was more than it seemed.

	And of course, the small red fox lying at the base of the well, peacefully 
napping completely clashed with the whole dark and magical atmosphere of the 
room.  Not to mention the large cat lying on top of the wall, whose calico 
fur disrupted the mood even further.

	A voice suddenly spoke out of nowhere.  "Imagine this:  An ordinary fox, 
peacefully taking a nap.  Its days are filled with all the normal activities 
that foxes are wont to do, eating, playing, sleeping, and the like."

	The fox's snoring cut off.

	"But today, this fox will be found to be a bit more than ordinary.  It is 
something that would cause many to curse his name, if they but knew the 
events he will set in motion."

	The fox opened one eye, looking around for whatever had disturbed its 
sleep.

	"For many things are more than they seem, here in the twilight zone."

	The fox climbed to its feet, fully awake.  "Hey Rod, long time no see."  he 
commented, stretching idly.

	Rod, the god of dramatic entrances, dramatic exits, and, oddly enough, can 
openers, slowly faded into view at the entrance to the room.  At the moment, 
he was wearing the form of one of his most famous followers, a tall, thin 
man in a dark suit.  Thunder crashed as he stepped closer to the well in the 
center of the room.  "Toltiir, Great Fox, I wish to enter in your Bet."  he 
boomed in a deep, dramatic voice.

	"Sure."  The cat waved his paw over the pool of water.  The surface rippled 
for a moment, before calming.

To almost any mortal watching, the images that appeared on the dark surface 
of the pool would have merely been a confused blur.  Only the most powerful 
of magicians and sorcerers were able to comprehend an entire timeline, 
compressed into the small circular space that comprised the surface of 
Mimir's Well.  Even if they possessed enough sheer power to do so, the 
enormous amount of magic required merely to cast the scrying spell and peer 
at the entirety of a separate universe was immense.

Gods did it all the time.  It was like television for them, except without 
the funny commercials with the talking frogs.

"This timeline okay?"  the cat asked, peering at the images flickering over 
the glowing surface of the pool.  "In this one, right after Ranma and his 
father get back from China, Genma decides to follow up some stories of a 
shrine where they practice a unique fighting style before going to the 
Tendos.  However, he and Ranma end up getting lost in the woods, and 
eventually end up in Nerima without ever finding the shrine.  After that, it 
merges with one of the innumerable timelines where Akane manages to make a 
dish that ends up killing Ranma before her cooking begins to improve."  He 
squinted.  "It looks like it's the rat poison in this one."  He paused for a 
moment, as he continued to scrutinize the Well, then winced.  "And the 
turpentine."  Another moment passed.  "And I think that's some old lead 
based paint.  And that looks to be-"

Rob cut him off. "Yes, this timeline is fine."  His loud, dramatic tones 
seemed to carry just a hint of impatience.  "And I shall make my change with 
this."  He reached into a pocket of his suit, and pulled out a fist-sized 
chunk of rock.  It was an ordinary looking piece of stone, a dark gray lump 
of granite that came to a sharp point at one end.  Specks of dust glittered 
on its rough edges, as he held it up and scanned the pool for the best place 
to make the toss.

**********

The celestial world that all the gods and goddesses lived in was a world 
primarily shaped by will.  The majority of the world was gray and unformed, 
lacking shaped and substance.  When a deity desired a home, they merely laid 
claim to a patch of this unformed area, focused their will, and created 
whatever sort of place they wished, from an ancient Egyptian pyramid to a 
modern condo with all the attendant luxuries.  Once the desired result was 
achieved, there were ways to fix the location so that it remained as it was, 
but everything in the world of the gods was to some extent influenced by 
will and power.  This included the shapes the gods and goddesses wore, 
allowing them to change appearance like sets of clothes, the places where 
they lived, and, to a small extent, the way they perceived the world around 
them.

Because of this, no one ever bothered to create buildings with actual 
physical connections to other realms.  After all, all that was required to 
go to another deity's domain was to concentrate as you stepped out of the 
door, and you would end up wherever you wished.  Of course, there were a few 
exceptions, such as the great mall, where goods from all over the multiverse 
were sold, (one of the places where mortals mingled freely with gods and 
demigods), but most places boasted no physical connection to any other 
realm, relying on the abilities of the beings who inhabited the realm of the 
gods to enable them to get around from place to place.

Even if you were unable to muster the power or concentration necessary to 
use this method of transportation, you would still be able to move around.  
Doors automatically stayed open to the place that the last person to go 
through them had gone.  For those mortals not in the company of a god or 
goddess, and unable to muster the power to use the doors themselves, there 
were several hallways that contained doors whose destination never change, 
and opened onto the best-traveled areas in the celestial world.

However, to use those hallways, you had to be able to get to them, and for 
that, you still needed to be able to get a door to send you to the hallway.

Paladine, god of truth, justice, and all that good stuff, was currently 
cursing the fact that he was unable to muster enough concentration to find 
his destination, as he stumbled through door after door.  He was cursing a 
lot of other things, too, as he tried to reach his destination.  Several of 
those things he had been cursing all through the dinner that his friend 
Bacchus had served, and all the wine he had drunk to try and forget those 
things was the reason for his current inability to concentrate enough to set 
his own destination.

	He was cursing how he had been kicked out of his native universe by his 
father, along with all the rest of the gods there, for doing the celestial 
equivalent of stealing the car keys and locking his father, Chaos, in the 
basement.  It was accepted celestial procedure!  After all, just look at all 
the Greek gods!  They had done the same thing, and you didn't see them 
getting punished for it.  No, they were having a grand time over on Olympus, 
with no end in sight.

Another thing that was receiving the weight of his displeasure was how 
things were developing back in his native universe.  Not only had he and all 
his fellows gods (and goddess, couldn't forget that, Takhisis was very 
sensitive about sexual equality), been kicked out, but that hadn't been 
enough.  No, now all his former worshipers had to go through all sorts of 
horrible hardships, and he wasn't even there to tell them to buck up, there 
was a light at the end of the tunnel.

A third thing he was cursing was how there was no one around who could set 
one of the doors to a bathroom.  Any bathroom.  Even the disgusting one in 
the ninth level of hell which had never been cleaned since the creation of 
the universe, and was eternally out of toilet paper and soap.

	But the one thing that Paladine was cursing even more than the deserted 
state of the halls was how Bacchus had decided to put his bathroom in a 
completely different place from the rest of his house.  That, and the fact 
that Paladine had not thought to ask someone else for help getting around.  
(Not that it was likely that anyone else at Bacchus's party would have been 
able to concentrate enough to use a doorway, either.  Bacchus was the god of 
wine, after all.)

Paladine stumbled through another doorway, still muttering under his breath.

Slowly, it penetrated into his mind that the room he had just wandered into 
was different from the deserted rooms he had been stumbling through.  This 
room contained several people, gathered around a pool of water.  Sure, one 
of them was a cat, and one was a fox, but Paladine could recognize other 
gods when he saw them.  The third person, however, was wearing a human 
shape, and appeared to be about to throw something in the water.

The slightly unsteady god took a step forward and opened his mouth to ask 
for some assistance.  His bladder was definitely telling him he needed to 
find a bathroom, and fast.

However, his stomach had other ideas.  Gases began to bubble up inside the 
celestial organ, and as soon as his lips parted, before he could even begin 
to form a request for directions, Paladine instead let out a long belch.

**********


This is probably a good time to interject with a brief note.  Bacchus wasn't 
just the god of wine.  In fact, his full title was something more like "God 
of Wine, Whiskey, Vodka, Beer, Mead, Ale, Bourbon, Gin, Fermented Mare's 
Milk, Those Drinks with the Little Umbrellas in Them, Pieces of Fruit That 
Have Been Left Sitting Out Too Long, Various Intoxicating Magical Potions, 
Miscellaneous Brightly Colored Liquids with Insects, Lizards, or Bits of 
Fruit Floating in Them, Along With Any Other Drink That Makes Your Head Seem 
Like It's About To Explode, Either When You Drink It or The Morning After".  
Considering this, it should be no surprise that some of the drinks that 
Bacchus mixed up had worse side effects than a mere hangover.  Some of his 
drinks could cause you to grow extra limbs, suddenly outline you in light of 
various colors, randomly teleport you somewhere else, or even turn you into 
a newt.  (Of course, you'd get better.  Eventually.).  And Bacchus never 
hesitated to serve these drinks to guests at his party.  It was one of the 
things that made them so interesting.

Considering this, Paladine was actually rather lucky.  The florescent blue 
fireball that shot from his mouth when he burped was actually very mild, 
compared to some things Bacchus's drinks could do.

Of course, that probably wasn't very reassuring to Rob, as the fireball 
impacted on the rock he was holding.

Rob was also lucky though, in a sense.  Sure, the rock that he was going to 
place his bet with had just been blasted by a fireball.  However, at least 
it hadn't been destroyed.  Instead, the fireball had imparted an enormous 
amount of momentum to the rock, sending it flying out of Rob's grip with the 
speed of a bullet.  It bounced crazily off the walls, leaving a series of 
dark patches where it scraped off the glowing moss.  It clipped the end of 
Great Fox's tail, ripping off a few hairs as the Native American god dove 
for cover.  Rebounding off the floor, it headed straight for Toltiir's face, 
only to bounce off a transparent shield raised by him at the last moment.  
Continuing to ricochet wildly off the walls, the rock tore the phrase "hi 
mom" into the front of Pladine's shirt, though it was unable to harm the 
immortal flesh beneath.

Finally, the rock bounced off the ceiling and, with a certain sense of 
finality, sped straight into the middle of Mimir's well with barely a 
splash.  However, the ripples it made quickly attracted Toltiir's interest, 
as he began to avidly study them.

Meanwhile, behind the back of the preoccupied cat, Rob turned to glare at 
Paladine, who gave him a sheepish look, hiccuped, and turned into a newt.

**********


Mr. Fuzzykins was not a happy cat.  Of course, with a name like Mr. 
Fuzzykins, this was no surprise, but his discontent extended farther than 
that.  In fact, it extended all the way back to his childhood, when he was 
just a cute, wide-eyed kitten.

This is the point where most psychiatrists would immediately diagnose it as 
depression and blame it on his parents.  Then, they would proceed to 
prescribe two drugs to deal with the symptoms, four more drugs to take care 
of the side effects of the first two drugs, and then another seven drugs to 
reduce the side effects coming from those drugs and their interactions with 
each other and the original two drugs.  At this point, the patient would be 
such a quivering wreck from the massive overmedication that the 
psychiatrist, panting heavily and more than a little wild-eyed from dealing 
with the patient's constant complaints about what the drugs were doing to 
him, would feel fully justified in having him committed to an asylum.  
(Whether the doctor or the patient would be the one committed is unclear.)

Unfortunately, this would all be wrong.  Mr. Fuzzykins's parents had been 
very kind and compassionate.  The problems had started after he had been 
taken away from them.

The cat that had birthed him had been a beloved pet of a small family.  
Unfortunately, the family had been unable to keep the kittens, and, in the 
traditional way for a family to dispose of excess offspring of their pets, 
the kittens were deposited in a box outside the house, with a small sign 
asked people to take them and give them a new home.

At first, the newly-wed couple who had picked Mr. Fuzzykins had seemed 
perfect.  They had adored him, buying loads of cat toys for him, giving only 
the highest quality cat food, and generally pampering him silly as they 
debated on what to name him.  He had been happy living the good life, until 
the couple finally settled on Mr. Fuzzykins as his name.

That had been the first strike.

Still, life had remained pretty good.  He still was pampered silly, and it 
was starting to look like that would continue forever, even though he still 
winced whenever he heard his name.

Then came the second strike.  A strange little creature, about his size, had 
suddenly appeared around the house.  HIS domain.  On top of that, the humans 
who he deigned to allow to feed and house him had, instead of driving out 
the intruder and restoring him to his rightful place as lord of the 
household, pushed him and the tiny creature closer together!  What did they 
think he was, a chew toy for whatever chose to wander into the house?!

Not only that, but the luxuries had begun to dry up, siphoned off by the 
intruder in his domain.  The cat food had gradually degraded to lower and 
lower quality brands, while new cat toys became scarcer and scarcer.

But even that had been livable.  The final indignity had started a little 
later.

It had come gradually.  A closet that he had always gone in before closed, a 
room that contained on of his favorite sleeping spots locked away behind a 
closed door.  Gradually, it had grown, until he had been confined to the 
laundry room and a bathroom.

Now, it had finally climaxed in this: thrown into a confining cat carrier, 
strapped on top of a car along with a jumble of luggage, while his humans 
and the intruder rode snug and dry inside.  Not only that, but the entire 
carrier was made of pink plastic.  Bright pink plastic.  Plastic the 
florescent color of pink that almost seems to sear through your eyelids and 
leave a permanent impression on your retina.  Not only that, but the name 
Mr. Fuzzykins was written on the side in large, flowery letters.  It was the 
last straw for the cat, and he was determined to leave as soon as he got a 
chance.

Unfortunately, though the quality of the cat food may have gone downhill, 
his humans had not stinted on the cat carrier, and Mr. Fuzzykins found 
himself with no way out.  He had pawed at the metal grille covering the end 
of the carrier for a while, but had found it futile.  Though his paw could 
reach the simple latch that held him in his place of imprisonment, the 
padlock keeping that latch firmly closed was beyond him.  Finally, he just 
gave it up and merely stared moodily at the dripping forest passing by 
outside.

**********

A loud *CRACK* startled Mr. Fuzzykins out of the daze he'd fallen into.  He 
watched in surprise as a large rock smashed into the padlock on his carrier, 
completely destroying it and allowing the door to swing open freely.

He was unsure where the rock had come from, but this was just the 
opportunity he had been looking for, and he wasted no time in making his way 
out of the cat carrier, before jumping off the top of the car as it slowed 
to make a turn.

And after all, he was a cat.  Of course the universe would rearrange itself 
to met his needs.

**********

Ranma Saotome was having a Bad Day.  At the moment, he (or currently she, 
thanks to a curse that had been picked up in China), was slogging through a 
wet forest, wet, hungry, lost, and miserable.

This all had a few simple causes. First, her stupid father, Genma, had 
decided that they should take a detour from visiting an old friend of his 
and instead go find a shrine that he had heard stories about.  Apparently, 
they practiced a unique fighting style, and of course she and her father had 
to go learn it.

And of course the bus that would have taken them straight to the steps of 
the shrine was too expensive to ride.

And of course they didn't need to waste money on a map.  This was Japan, 
after all!  Their homeland!  They should be able to navigate by instinct!  
By the singing of the land in their blood and the smell of the plants in the 
air!  And besides, the maps had cost a whole five hundred yen, and 
(unbeknownst to his child) Genma had seen a vending machine that sold 
delicious-looking snack cakes for only for only a hundred yen each.  (He had 
gotten five and immediately eaten them all.  Wouldn't have wanted the boy to 
get out of shape by eating such unhealthy things, after all.)

And of course food was much more important than the compass which they might 
have used to find their way.  (Genma had pawned it for six hundred yen, 
which had gone straight into the vending machine.)

Even that wasn't the worst of it, though.  It had been a beautiful day when 
they had set out for the shrine.  The sun had been shining, birds had been 
singing, and everything had been well with the world.

That had been four days ago.  After only a few hours of walking, Genma had 
decided that it would be much faster if they took a quick shortcut through 
the forest, resulting in them almost immediately getting lost.

They had wandered in the woods for a few days, hungry and lost.  (Genma had 
snuck into their packs and eaten most of the food the first night.)  Earlier 
that day, they had finally come across a small town.  Genma still hadn't 
spent the money to buy a map, but at least they had been about to stop at a 
restaurant to get some food in their stomachs, possibly followed by getting 
some supplies at the local grocery store.

Unfortunately, the sky, which had been cloudy for several days, had opened 
up while they were right outside the restaurant.  The sudden drenching had 
transformed Ranma from his normal body, that of a athletic black-haired boy, 
into an annoyingly cute red-haired girl.  It had also changed his father, 
normally a rather portly bald man, into a large panda.  Both transformations 
were due to the aforementioned Chinese curses that caused them to change 
into a different form at the touch of cold water (hot water reversed the 
process), which also were the fault of the elder Saotome.

The townspeople, startled by the sudden appearance of a member of an 
endangered species in their midst, had not hesitated in calling animal 
control, forcing Ranma and his father to flee town.

Now, as the rainy sky began to darken into night, Ranma was feeling very 
annoyed.  He was cold, wet, in his hated female form, he had had nothing to 
eat for days besides what few berries and edible plants he could find, and 
it wasn't looking like things were going to improve anywhere in the near 
future.

On top of all that, the odor of wet panda was starting to make him slightly 
sick to his stomach.

This wasn't the worst day he had ever had.  The catfist training, where he 
had been thrown into pits full of ravenous felines wrapped in various fishy 
delicacies had been worse, (and had given him a fear of cats that lasted up 
to this day, not to mention the other side effects).  The day where he had 
trained at Jusenkyou with his father, and where he had picked up the curse 
that he hated so much, also qualified as one of the worst days of his life.

In fact, now that he thought about it, when you had Genma Saotome as your 
sole parent and mentor, cold, wet, and hungry weren't all that unusual.  
Though female was a new twist, it still wasn't the worst day in his life, 
though it definitely was turning out to be pretty horrible.  There was only 
one thing that could make this day worse (not counting the truly inventive 
forms of idiocy that Genma sometimes passed off as training), but Ranma 
tried not to think about that.  After all, they were out in the middle of 
the woods.  There was no way that a c- c- c-  ...one of those things could 
be all the way out here.

It was at that point that Mr. Fuzzykins, who had been exploring the 
interesting world up in the top of these things called trees, chased a 
squirrel out onto a branch that was just a little bit too thin to bear his 
weight.  It broke, sending him falling through the air, to finally land feet 
first, right on top of the head of Ranma Saotome.

**********

Genma staggered through the woods, muttering under his breath.  He couldn't 
believe his son could be so ungrateful!  Not only had the boy been 
complaining for the last few days about all sorts of things, such as how 
they were lost, how they were soaked by the rain, and how hungry he was 
(Genma hadn't told Ranma about the store of food he still had under the 
false bottom in his backpack.  After all, a martial artist's life was full 
of hardships, and the boy could always use endurance training.)

Of course the ungrateful boy (well, technically he was a girl at the moment, 
which was something else that he was blaming on Genma.  Honestly, Ranma just 
couldn't see that sometimes a martial artist ran into these obstacles on the 
way to true mastery.  Taken right, they merely helped his rise in skill.  
Therefore, Genma considered it an essential part of Ranma's training to 
throw as many obstacles in his path as possible.) hadn't seen it that way.  
In fact, he had been such an ingrate that when he had fallen into the 
Catfist, a incredibly powerful technique that Genma had gone through a lot 
of hardship to teach him (after all, those fish sausages that had been used 
in the training had looked incredibly tasty), he, instead of showing his 
father the respect he deserved, had instead sliced up Genma before running 
off into the woods!

Of course, Genma, being the kind, compassionate father that he was, was now 
tracking down the boy, hoping that he wouldn't get too far away while in the 
throes of the Catfist.  (The move caused an incredible fear of cats in 
anyone trained in it.  When the fear became too great, their minds retreated 
to get away from it, leaving them with the mind of a cat.  While they were 
like that, they had enhanced senses and abilities, and were able to manifest 
claws of pure energy.  Ranma usually used those claws to get back at the 
person who had put him through the torture required to actually learn the 
technique).  Even though his son would probably attack him again, Genma was 
nobly tracking him down to prevent him from getting lost or hurting others.

And besides, his wife would kill him if he managed to lose Ranma.

**********

Luckily, Genma had seen the direction Ranma had run after mauling him, or he 
might not have been able to pick up the trail at all, considering how Ranma 
also seemed to pick up the ability to leave almost no tracks when in the 
Catfist.  Even with knowing the boy's general direction, it still took 
several minutes of careful tracking before Genma finally emerged into a 
small clearing in the forest.  Ranma stood on all fours in the center, 
batting at something in the air that Genma couldn't see.

As he moved around the clearing, attempting to keep from being noticed, he 
managed to get a closer look at what was so engrossing to the boy.  It 
appeared to be a small ball, made out of some sort of grayish crystal.  
Miraculously, it was hovering about two feet off the ground, and whenever 
Ranma batted at it, it shifted a few inches, before swiftly moving back to 
its original position as soon as the red-haired girl removed her hand.

As soon as Genma saw the sphere, old, well worn instincts immediately came 
into play.  That sphere looked rather valuable, considering how it seemed to 
be made completely out of some form of dark crystal he had never seen 
before.  Not to mention the fact that it was hovering in midair.  He had no 
idea how that effect was achieved, but it ought to jack up the price two or 
three times.

Many have wondered why, considering how skilled a thief Genma Saotome was 
(after all, he did invent two whole new styles of martial arts based on 
thievery), he was always so poor and strapped for money.  After all, 
considering the variety of valuable objects he had stolen from various 
shrines and places of business over the years, he should have had enough 
money to last him for as long as he needed.  Unfortunately, Genma possessed 
one tiny flaw in his thieving techniques.  He was excellent at recognizing 
precious objects, incredibly skilled at removing them, and a master in the 
art of evading pursuit.  However, when it came to actually selling the 
things that he had... found in various places, (such as other people's 
homes), he completely fell through.  Any person with even the most 
rudimentary skills at bargaining was able to lead Genma around by the nose.  
(A four-year old whose lollipop Genma had once tried to acquire had managed 
to get Genma to agree to give her everything but the clothes on his back in 
return for the candy.  That, and she had also managed to get him to engage 
his son to her dolly, because she thought the doll was lonely and needed a 
husband.)  Considering all this, it's no surprise that Genma's brain, after 
running through some quick mental calculations, finally estimated the value 
of the sphere at about two thousand yen.

**********

Not far away, at the bottom of a dark lake, a spaceship was slowly 
rebuilding herself.  Actually, she was far more than just a spaceship.  
Sure, in one form she was a large crystalline ship capable of destroying 
most other ships with incredible ease, but her other form was cute, furry, 
and small enough to be carried around by her pilot.  (Though partner would 
have been a more accurate term, considering that she was completely capable 
of acting by herself.)  She was a living creature who merely happened to be 
able to turn into a spaceship on a moment's notice, with feelings and dreams 
of her own.  (Admittedly, a lot of them were about carrots, but that was 
normal for her.)  She even had a name of her own, given to her by her 
creator, the woman who could almost be considered her mother; Ryo-Oki.

At the moment, having been almost completely destroyed in an epic space 
battle, she was slowly rebuilding her body around her almost indestructible 
core.  Of course, this was all taking place in a subspace pocket, so there 
were very few visible signs that anything was happening with the head-sized 
grey egg that formed her main core.

There was the fact that the broken crystals that surrounded where her core 
lay on the lake bottom were slowly disappearing, as they were absorbed back 
into her structure by tiny probes she had sent out.  Other probes, small 
crystalline orbs that flew around on miniature gravity repulsion drives, had 
left the lake and were wandering the vicinity, absorbing plants and small 
animals as a source of vital organic molecules.  Like a teenager who 
consumes large amounts of food in order to fuel rapid growth in their body, 
Ryo-Oki was absorbing large quantities of materials in order to rapidly 
regrow herself.

**********

Back in the forest, Genma was preparing to make his move.  His hand slowly 
slipped into his pack, withdrawing a packet of dried meat.  All he had to do 
was toss the food to the other side of the clearing, then grab the crystal 
sphere while the boy was distracted.  It was a foolproof plan!

Just as he was about to make his move, the hovering orb suddenly gave off a 
blinding flash.  A sudden wind arose, whirling towards the center of the 
clearing, while a loud boom staggered Genma as he tried to blink the spots 
from his vision.

Finally, his sight cleared, revealing that the strange crystal sphere had 
vanished.  Along with it had gone a large chunk of the clearing, and, more 
importantly, his son.

Genma gulped.  His wife was going to kill him, if the boy really had just 
vanished.

His expression brightened as a thought occurred to him.  Maybe the boy had 
just run off, scared by the noise and light!  Yes, that had to be it!  And 
as a loving father Genma would go find him and continue to make him a man 
among men, so his wife wouldn't chop off their heads!

After he finished the open packet of meat in his hand, of course.  First 
things first, after all, and there was no sense in letting good food go to 
waste.

**********

Somewhere, there was a garden.  It was a beautiful place, with the sun 
always shining and birds chirping merrily in the background.  Plants from 
worlds all over the galaxy lived in it, filling it with a almost 
overwhelming variety of scents and colors, while the noises of hundreds of 
exotic animals blended to form a wonderful symphony in the background.  
Gentle breezes wafted through it, carrying a variety of sparkling insects 
who glittered like jewels in the sun.  It was an almost perfect paradise, 
filled with species from planets scattered all over most of known space.

With a small puff of displaced air, a black tomcat appeared in the garden.  
Looking around at the strange place it found itself in, it wondered where 
the interesting grey cat-toy that had been floating in front of it a second 
ago had gone.  A moment later, such thoughts were forgotten as it became 
distracted by what a0ppeared to be a fuzzy pink mouse fleeing through the 
grass.

**********

In another part of the garden, a young woman wandered.  Dressed in a simple 
blue dress, she drifted through the plants, stopping to sniff a particularly 
interesting flower or play with a cute little animal every now and then.  A 
long time ago, she had retreated here, to this place of her own making, to 
escape.  She couldn't remember exactly what she had wanted to escape from, 
having blocked those memories a long time ago.  All she could recall were 
fleeting impressions of explosions, and screams, and a sense of utter 
helplessness to change what was happening.  However, she remained certain 
that whatever had been outside her little sanctuary, it was much worse than 
this place she had created inside herself.

The woman paused in her wanderings to bend down and greet a small animal 
that she hadn't seen in the garden before.  New animals and plants, such as 
this one, appeared from time to time.  The woman vaguely remembered that she 
had had something to do with setting that up, but she had walled off so much 
to escape those dreadful memories that almost everything in her mind was 
hazy or completely inaccessible.

However, there was one thing that she had remained absolutely certain of for 
all the time that she had been here, and that was her name.  She brought it 
to mind again as she petted the black cat that she had just come across.  
"Hello," she said, sitting down and scooping the tomcat into her lap, where 
it began to play with strands of her long brown hair.  Tickling its nose 
with a strand of the long blue grass that grew in this area of the garden, 
she said to it "I'm Ryo-Oki.  Nice to meet you."



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