-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
Ranma and Akane are caught in a science experiment in Nerima
that affects their ki. They experience terrible nightmares and lose their
fighting focus. Neither can get any sleep without being in close proximity
with the other. They call upon the scientists to help them through
Ranma’s friend from the Second Korean War, Hiro Ohata. Hiro
works for Professor Balthazar McFogg, the leader of the scientists,
as a kind of ‘Man Friday’.
Hiro sends them to England where they become embroiled in a
worldwide search for electromagnetic ‘events’ like the one that
affected them in Nerima. In chasing these events they hope to find
a cure, but what they do find is that there is more going on than they
ever imagined.
Ranma meets a mysterious woman named Anazali, who is
following them. She claims to be their friend, and hints that the
end of their search will not only cure their ki problems, but may
also end Ranma’s Jusenkyo curse. They receive a vision during
the event in Scotland that takes them to Granada, Spain. From
there they experience the next event, and a very disturbing vision
hinting not only at a world wide disaster, but of the end of their
blossoming relationship as well.
Ukyo, Kuno and Nabiki are kidnapped by agents working for Ivan
Tarchenko, an assistant of a second research group that is studying
these events. They are taken to a dacha outside of Odessa, where
Ukyo is tortured. Kuno breaks them free and they flee across the
southern Ukraine. Tarchenko sends a group of men to pursue them
They are rescued from their pursuer, a vicious man named Fyodor,
by a stranger, who takes them to a ship belonging to his brother. His
brother, named Aerandir, is no less unusual, and he sails them to an
island in the Aegean sea to stay with his uncle.
Aerandir reveals to them that he is an 8000 year old descendant
of an ancient people whose land was destroyed by forces similar to
the event the scientists are looking for. He explains to them the
history of his people and that if steps are not taken, a second disaster
will befall the Earth.
Part Seven:
Reunions
Chapter One
“Ukyo!” A voice calls. “Ucchan, where are you?”
Ukyo looks up from her cooking.
**It’s Ranma-honey!** She thinks happily.
“I’m in here, Ranma-honey!”
Ranma appears. He is wearing his usual Chinese clothes; red
blouse and black trousers with the draw string legs. He grins for her
as he comes in.
“How was school today?” She asks him.
“It was okay. Only had to stand out in the hall twice this morning.
Only changed into a girl once. Fought Kuno as usual, punted him into
orbit.”
“Sounds better than usual,” Ukyo remarks. She pats him on the
head. He winces as she touches him.
“Oh! I’m sorry, Ran-chan.”
“Stupid Akane,” Ranma mutters, and rubs his head. “I’m really
getting tired of her hitting me with that damn hammer of hers.”
Ukyo offers him a sympathetic look.
“Why do you put up with her?”
Ranma shrugs.
“I gotta.”
Ukyo shakes her head slowly. She gathers her willpower and takes
a deep breath.
“You don’t have to. There are always alternatives.”
Ranma shrugs again. He smiles and the light of his gorgeous blue-
grey eyes makes Ukyo’s heart skip a beat.
“Any suggestions?” He asks. There is the slightest hint in his voice
that he is implying something she has longed to hear from him for so
long.
Ukyo is now turning somersaults in her heart.
**I have to say it!** She thinks desperately.
“Sometimes happiness is closer than you think.” It takes every
ounce of cool she can muster to say it.
Ranma draws closer to her.
“Really, now. Go on.”
Her pulse races like a prize Arabian in the final turn at Churchill
Downs.
“Sometimes the person you can give your heart to is right there
next to you,” she says softly, fighting to stay cool even as her heart
thunders in her ears. “Sometimes that person is just waiting for you
to realize it.”
He drinks in the fire of her luminous trembling green eyes and
leans in close to her. She can see herself reflected in his eyes and
feel the soft breeze of his breath on her skin. She wants him to hold
her so badly that she is about to burst.
“You’re right... I’ve been thinkin’ about a lot of stuff lately,” he
says to her. “And the one thing I could kick myself for was for not
noticing how I felt about you Ucchan.”
“Really?” Ukyo asks hopefully.
“Yeah,” he says. “Truth is I’ve always loved you, Ucchan.
Always. I’m sorry it took me so long to figure that out for myself.
You’ve always been there for me, and I’ve taken that for granted.
Never again.”
“Oh Ran-chan...” Her voice trails off.
He takes her into a tender embrace. His kiss sets her on fire from
within. The world brightens around her, and everything gleams with
an inner light.
Muted sunlight streamed in through creme colored drapes and
played across Ukyo’s face. Slowly she stirred in her bed and blinked
her eyes open. She felt so peaceful and contented.
She had another Ranma dream. She still had them even after
Ranma’s profession of love for Akane, but this was the first time
since then that they hadn’t cut her to the quick. This was the first
time she had dreamed of Ranma falling in love with her that didn’t
leave her weeping in her bed and soaking the pillows with her tears.
She sighed dreamily and slipped out of bed. Reality would assert
itself soon enough, and she wanted these good feelings to last. That
Ranma at the very least loved her like a sister was some small buffer
against the eventual heartache that always came when she thought
of him.
“Today is a new day,” she said to herself. “This isn’t Guam, but
I can at least enjoy my stay here like I was on vacation. And to think
I didn’t have to spend a single yen to get here!”
She decided on bathing before breakfast. The sound of her
humming cheerfully carried down the hall. A sound which was
soon joined by that of splashing water.
Sarophan nodded to himself outside in the hall.
**Easier than I believed...** He thought with some satisfaction.
**Just a subtle touch here, a gentle prod there, and she responds as
desired... Easy enough I suppose when her heart is already behind
the idea.**
He walked down the hall to take his breakfast.
* * *
Midmorning found Ukyo, Nabiki, and Kuno on the small beach
by the lagoon. Kelebros stood at anchor in the middle of the lagoon.
Aerandir had decided to remove it from the pier for some reason.
Perhaps to discourage Nabiki from leaving with him tomorrow.
They each wore bathing suits provided by Sarophan’s household.
Nabiki had to admire Sarophan’s fashion sense. They wore nothing
less than the finest designer labels.
By the same token she had found with no small delight that
Sarophan had a satellite television and received reports from the
world’s major stock exchanges via Internet access on his home
computer. He had permitted her to catch up on her investment
portfolios by telephone under the gentle supervision of Yiannis. Her
fortunes were secure, and since she was no longer a hunted refugee,
she was feeling her old self again.
Kuno practiced his strikes in his dark blue swim trunks along the
low breaking waves. Ukyo lay out on a large beach towel sunning
herself in a white one piece bathing suit cut very high or very low
in just the right places. She seemed particularly happy this morning,
which made Nabiki feel much better about her. The last traces of
her affliction had evaporated away.
The three songbirds she had met yesterday had formed an unusual
bond with Nabiki. They serenaded her from a nearby fig tree, something
airy and bright by Claude Debussy. Nabiki found herself growing rather
fond of them.
She sat in the shade of the fig tree, listening to her songbirds, (it
wasn’t long before she thought of them as hers), and watching Kuno.
The swordsman moved gracefully through a half-speed form, feeling
out each move of his body and blade, making them one with his
mind. Kuno wasn’t very keen on much of anything, but as Nabiki
watched him she knew he was at least a genius when it came to
swordplay. His form complete, he executed it at full speed. The air
seemed to shimmer before the force of his glittering blade whistling
through it.
“Mmmm...” Ukyo murmured wistfully. A tropical drink moistened
her lips. “I could do this forever.”
Nabiki smiled and looked at her. “I’m inclined to agree with you.”
Ukyo looked up from her drink and turned onto her side. “What do
you think about what Aerandir told us last night?”
Nabiki pursed her lips in thought. “It sounds crazy. But given the
light of recent events and the things we’ve seen, I guess I have to
believe him. Don’t ask me what this means for us.”
“That _was_ my next question,” Ukyo chuckled. “Can you guess
my other one?”
“Do we stay here? I don’t really know.” Nabiki continued. “I’d
like to go home. Kasumi and my dad are probably just as worried
after hearing from me as they were before. I just don’t want to involve
them in this. If those Russians are keeping an eye on the dojo I could
end up endangering them. At least while we’re here everyone is safe.”
“Everyone but Ranma and Akane,” Ukyo observed.
Kuno stopped practicing and leaned an ear towards the two ladies.
“Do you know where they are?” Nabiki asked her.
“Of course not,” Ukyo replied.
“Then we can’t do anything to help them,” Nabiki said. “I don’t
like the idea, but that is just how it is. Sarophan probably has his
people looking for them right now as we speak.”
“Do you think he can protect them?”
“He’ll do a better job of it than we can.”
“Speak for thyself Nabiki Tendo,” Kuno said. He sheathed his
sword and strode over to them.
“What was that, Kuno-baby?” Nabiki asked archly.
“My martial prowess shall prevail over the foe as it has in
encounters past. I have sworn a vow to repay the debt of my life
to the accursed Ranma Saotome, and even unto the likes of such
vermin I shall not shirk from duty. Any who wouldst harm the
slightest hair upon his head must first answer to my righteous
steel.” His face darkened. “And for those who wish ill upon the
angelic beauty of Akane Tendo, I shall split the heavens with my
wrath.”
“Gee Kuno-baby, you only promised them twenty-fold against
what they did to _me_,” Nabiki teased.
Kuno affected a pained look for a moment.
“What’s this about a debt?” Ukyo asked him. She tried to think
back to that night in Ucchan’s -moments before they were catapulted
into this nightmare. Her memory of that night was sketchy at best.
Kuno took pains to direct all attention from Nabiki and instead
looked upon Ukyo laying on her beach towel. A fetching sight she
was.
“I swore to repay the accursed Saotome Ranma and the
misdirected Hibiki Ryoga for saving my life,” Kuno told her.
“Though Saotome is my rival in all things, I must not shirk a debt
of honor.”
“You mean when you were wounded in the war?” Ukyo asked.
Their eyes were drawn to the tattoos that embellished his
washboard stomach. Nabiki knew what she was looking for, and
could see the puckered scars from the bullet wound and of the
tubes that had been inserted into his infected abdominal cavity to
drain the virulent fluids out of his body. It was admirable work,
and as Ranma had once suspected, had been performed using
traditional means.
“Precisely,” Kuno said quietly. He could see their eyes upon his
stomach and tightened up unconsciously.
“So what’s your plan?” Ukyo asked him. It was just idle chatter
to while away the morning hours.
For Tatewaki Kuno, it was anything but trivial. Nabiki took one
look at his stern countenance and knew that he already had a plan.
It was also probably so half-baked and hopelessly optimistic that he
was doomed to failure from the start. **Kuno just took himself _far_
too seriously.**
“I shall accompany the esteemed mariner Aerandir when he sails
in the morn. Together we shall find Saotome and the lovely Akane,”
he replied.
Nabiki knew this was coming, but found her jaw dropping in shock
nonetheless. Ukyo took the news with equal surprise. Kuno bid them
good morning and proceeded to walk down the beach towards the
rocky cliffs to practice away from such lovely distractions.
* * *
Ivan Tarchenko stepped through the door and into a spacious
room at the University of St. Petersburg College of Science filled
with computers, tables with piles of books and hardcopy stacked
upon them, and men scribbling on blackboards. Doctor Casimir
was in the corner of the room with Doctors Yevdokimov, Petrenko,
and Gulyaev. The four scientists were poring over a simulation on
a large computer display.
“So this is where you have been spending all your time?” He
said to them.
“Ah Vanya!” Casimir called to him happily. “You are just in
time.”
“In time for what, Doctor?”
Casimir laughed, and the other scientists laughed with him.
“We are close, Vanya. Very close!”
Tarchenko looked at the display. A toroidal representation of
magnetic flux spun around a grid pattern sphere which Tarchenko
immediately took to be the Earth. Red and violet lines of flux criss-
crossed the surface of the sphere, which at times took on substance
and displayed the land masses above and below sea level. The time
scale was set to one second equals 86,400 seconds, (or one day).
“You have corrected the model?” Tarchenko asked in surprise.
**Perhaps they would not need the two Japanese after all.**
“Yuri and Natalya have been tireless in their calculations,” Casimir
said in reply, gesturing to the middle-aged Doctors Petrenko and
Gulyaev respectively. The two gave modest smiles in response.
“And I’ve had a stroke of inspiration myself!”
“It works?” Tarchenko asked again.
“Not yet,” Casimir cautioned. “But we have never been so close.
I was so blind not to see this before!”
Tarchenko was quite lost. “What is it then?”
“Gravity!” Casimir said triumphantly.
“Gravity?” Tarchenko repeated.
“Gravity,” Gulyaev affirmed.
“But we’ve already factored in the gravitic functions for the
Moon,” Tarchenko said desperately. His science background had
only ever been a cover for his work as Zhukerov and the others’
spy, and these people were leagues over his head.
“It wasn’t enough!” Casimir hooted. Tarchenko had never seen
the old man so animated before. “Right now we’re assessing the
effects of all of the planets in the solar system, and even the Alpha
Centauri trinary system. An acquaintance of mine from the Jet
Propulsion Laboratory in California is going to send me a detailed
summary of the event data we’ve collected thus far; analyzed
against these new parameters. He’s even managed to get us
computer time for this!”
“In exchange for what?” Tarchenko asked. It was the KGB in
him coming out.
Casimir shrugged. “Some high resolution radar relief mappings
of Mars, our polar cosmic ray survey raw data from last month
(they had a few glitches with their own observatories and they’re
desperately behind schedule), and the medical reports of all our brave
cosmonauts upstairs in Mir. You know how desperate the Americans
are for long duration space-flight data.”
“Those were privileged data belonging to the Russian Federation,
Doctor!” Tarchenko cried. “You can’t just give them away to the
Americans!”
“Hush Vanya, your voice is carrying,” Casimir admonished.
“And remember we are scientists first. Leave politics to the
apparatchiks...If I must, how do they say over there in America,
‘do a little horse trading’; then I will gladly part with a few nags that
I may acquire a fine stallion!”
“But Doctor!” Tarchenko hissed. “It wasn’t yours to give!”
“I’m surprised at you, Vanya. I would have thought that such a
great leap forward would have made you happy.”
“I am happy, Doctor. But not if you had to give away our
painfully and costly collected scientific data to get it. We were nine
years ahead of them with the Mars data alone! And they’ll never
put that Freedom of theirs into orbit. They would still be begging
us to ride Mir for years to come to collect their own long term
space-flight data if you hadn’t given it to them. We need the hard
currency such favors garner.”
Casimir shook his head. “What’s done is done, and cannot be
undone.” He directed his attention back to the display. “So beautiful.
I can almost see the pattern unfolding.”
Tarchenko found himself watching as well. He was far enough
into this role to at least appreciate what he was looking at.
“So that’s it then,” he said at length.
“What was that, Vanya?” The elderly scientist asked absently.
“Gravity. That was what was missing.”
“Oh there’s more to it than that,” Casimir remarked off-handedly.
“But this puts us so close now. So close. I wonder if that was what
Balthazar did to keep their model on track so much better than ours?”
“Why don’t you ask him?” Tarchenko said suddenly. It was a
lapse of conduct, but the last several minutes had been very trying
for him. He wished immediately that he could take it back.
“How was that again, Vanya?”
Tarchenko realized that he may as well go all the way.
“You are planning to attend Prince Rainier’s Charity Ball. I am
aware that Professor McFogg also attends the event every year.
You could ask him then.”
“And how would you know this?” Casimir said tiredly. He didn’t
feel like playing such games when there was so much yet to be done.
“I am your Operations Director, am I not?” Tarchenko replied.
“It is my job to know such things.” It was a satisfactory recovery,
and he felt pleased with himself.
“Of course, Vanya.” Casimir chuckled. “How very silly of me.”
He let the matter drop and returned to the simulation.
“You said there was more to the model than the gravitic
corrections,” Tarchenko fished. “What did you mean by that?”
“If I had those Wayfinders with me I could probably tell you,”
Casimir answered. “Just a few hours to talk with them. It could
mean so much. I do hope Balthazar brings them to Monaco.”
Tarchenko’s brow furrowed in thought.
**As do I, Doctor. As do I.**
Chapter Two
Aerandir was a little surprised to see Nabiki treading water a few
meters from Kelebros. He leaned over the gunwale and smiled for
her. She waved a hand jauntily at him, but the look of concern on
her face belied any joviality she tried to convey.
“Ahoy Nabiki!” He called to her. “For just a moment I thought
you were a mermaid who wished to chat with me.” He looked down
at her, a vision of exotic beauty in a bright red bikini that glowed
beneath the clear green waters of the lagoon. “But then perhaps I
am not far from the mark!” He laughed.
“May I come aboard?” Nabiki asked.
“Of course!” Aerandir replied. “Swim to the fantail and I shall
help you aboard.”
Nabiki kicked out a few lazy side strokes and bobbed just aft of
the jackstaff. Aerandir’s personal ensign snapped with the breeze
above her. She could make out the silvery letters of ‘Kelebros’ on
the fantail, along with more of that attractive alien script.
Aerandir leaned over the rail and dropped a short Jacob’s ladder
for her over the side. Nabiki pulled herself up, with Aerandir taking
her hand and helping her over the rail. She shook out some of the
water from her bob of mahogany colored hair as Aerandir went
below to fetch a towel for her.
He came back up on deck with the towel, and Nabiki dried herself
off.
“Welcome aboard, Nabiki,” he said kindly to her. “Now what
seems to be the trouble?”
“Is it _that_ obvious?” Nabiki lamented. She hated the idea of
being so easy to read.
“I cannot imagine why else you would swim so far from the beach
just to chat with me. Especially as I would be joining you for lunch in
just a short hour.”
“I suppose you do have a point,” she admitted.
“Would you like something to drink while we talk?” He offered.
Nabiki took a seat on a deck chair. “Anything without alcohol or
too fattening, please.”
Aerandir smiled at her and went below again. Nabiki had to admit
that eight-thousand years old or not, he was looking very handsome.
And he did have the warmest smile.
He returned with two tall glasses of iced tea. He set one before
her and sipped idly at the other one.
“You were kidding about the mermaid, right?” She thought to
ask him.
“Of course not!” Aerandir replied. “I speak with mermaids all
the time.”
She had to laugh in spite of the absurdity of it. Then again,
knowing a little more about Aerandir, he was probably quite serious.
“I have delayed you long enough I think,” he observed dryly.
“Now what is it you wish to speak to of?”
“It’s about Tatewaki Kuno,” she told him.
“The Blue Thunder? Do go on.”
She had the feeling that he was already certain of where she was
going with this, but played on. “He plans to leave with you tomorrow.”
“Quite so,” Aerandir agreed. “I cautioned him against it, but he
was rather adamant. As none of you are prisoners on this island, I
could not refuse such a request.”
“Did he tell you why he wanted to go?”
“He did not,” Aerandir replied. “Nor did I feel it was my business
to inquire.”
Nabiki thought as much. “He’s looking for Ranma and my little
sister. He swore this stupid oath to repay Ranma for saving his life,
and he’s just dumb enough to travel to the ends of the Earth to do it!
He can’t possibly survive on his own out there, he’s just too dimwitted
for something like this!”
“Why Nabiki!” Aerandir said in an amused tone of voice. “I had
no idea you felt so strongly for the Blue Thunder!”
Nabiki’s heart just about stopped.
“W-Whatever gave you that idea?” She stammered. She flinched
on the inside for losing her cool so easily. **What was it about
Aerandir that cut to the bone so effortlessly?**
“While I may not be as proficient as my uncle, I can see certain
things within people that mere vision cannot perceive,” Aerandir
replied softly. “I see that you have spent a very long time in the Blue
Thunder’s company.”
“I’ve practically taken care of him his whole life,” Nabiki said
without thinking. **Where is my guard today? Another hidden talent
of Aerandir’s? Still, it _is_ good to get this out in the open...** “He
was so hopeless when I first met him in elementary school, I kind
of felt sorry for him... I guess I’ve been feeling sorry for him all our
lives.” **Fourteen years anyway.**
“Surely the protector of Nabiki Tendo and Ukyo Kuonji could
not be so helpless?” Aerandir said in a tone that was very faintly
mocking.
“Oh sure. If you give him someone to hack up with his sword,
he’s just fine. Any other time and he’s totally hopeless. He has no
idea what’s going on outside of his little samurai fantasy world!”
She stopped speaking and just sat there looking at the beads of
condensation trickle down the glass of iced tea in her lap. Mostly
because Aerandir’s marvelous sea colored eyes were too intense to
bear in her present state of mind. She couldn’t believe she was
getting so worked up over Tatewaki Kuno.
Aerandir chuckled. “Correct me if I am mistaken, but I believe
you wish to join me tomorrow when Kelebros sets sail?”
Nabiki looked up at him gratefully. At least she didn’t have to
fumble around for some way to justify going with him this way.
No reasons to let anything else slip in front of him either.
“If I can’t talk him out of going, then yes, I wish to join you
tomorrow.” Her eyes flashed with the glint of sunlight off the
waters. “If I may,” she added.
Aerandir raised his glass to her. “Kelebros could do no better
than to have such a fine and fair lady as yourself aboard! You are
always welcome aboard my ship, Nabiki.”
Nabiki clinked her glass against his.
“Thank you, Aerandir.”
Aerandir bowed. “I am your servant, Nabiki,” he said gallantly.
He checked his pocket watch, a veritable antique in 22 karat gold
with a Swiss 12 jeweled movement that dangled from a gold chain.
“We should also be heading for the shore. Lunch will be served
shortly, and I know my uncle is a stickler for punctuality. And you
still need to change out of your bathing suit.”
Nabiki looked around for his launch. There was none that she
could see. **Surely he didn’t intend to dock the ship with the pier
again?**
“It’s quite a swim,” she remarked.
“Who said anything about a swim?” Aerandir said to her. “You
wouldn’t be able to swim back and still be on time.”
“What are you saying then?”
Aerandir opened his arms to her. “If I may, I shall carry you.”
“Excuse me?”
“Trust in me Nabiki, I shall not lead you astray.”
“Carry me across the water?”
“Yes. It’s not something I make a habit of, but it _is_ good for
me to stay in practice. Come please.”
She gingerly stepped up to him and he cradled her up into his
strong arms. She set an arm around his neck and shoulder and waited.
He stepped up to the rail and jumped over.
At first she cried in surprise, certain he intended to plunge into
the water. They never got that far. He skated atop the surface of the
waves and began singing a bawdy drinking song in Middle Italian.
Nabiki looked down with wide eyes and saw that his feet just
avoided the surface of the water.
“That’s some trick,” she remarked to him. “Could I do that in
say, eight-thousand years?”
“You could be doing this in just a few years if you were willing
to practice with me,” he chuckled. “I sense a great well of power
within you. It makes me glad to know that my cousins are coming
of age.”
“You mean more people like you will be coming along?”
“Not like me. But yes, more and more of you are expressing
your potentials than ever before. From what I’ve heard of your
sister’s husband, he seems to be one of the stronger ones.”
“Fiancé,” Nabiki corrected. “So when will this sort of thing
become common place?”
“Oh not for a few more centuries at the very least!” Aerandir
laughed. “But I’m a very patient man!”
“I can imagine,” Nabiki sighed, trying to imagine what it would
be like to live for thousands of years. The concept defied any real
grasp she could manage. She was only twenty years old. Aerandir
was four hundred times her age.
Aerandir scooted across the sand and set Nabiki gently on her
feet.
“There we are,” he said briskly. “Now that was exhilarating,
wasn’t it?”
She nodded and looked out across the lagoon. They had crossed
two hundred yards of water in under a minute. They didn’t have a
drop of water on them.
“You could say that.”
* * *
Tatewaki Kuno was pondering his good-byes to Ukyo and
Nabiki when he heard a light rapping on the door. He got up from
his kneeling position on the floor and started across the room.
The rapping sound returned a little more urgently.
He opened the door to see Nabiki looking up at him.
“Good evening Nabiki Tendo,” he offered her politely.
“Let’s cut to the chase Kuno-baby,” Nabiki replied, and pushed
past him.
“You wish to speak in private?”
Nabiki had by this time sat down on the foot of the bed. “You
could say that.”
“I am listening, Nabiki Tendo.” Kuno stood across from her.
“I’m here to ask you to stay,” Nabiki said to him.
“To stay?” Kuno asked. “For what purpose do you ask this of
me?”
“I know this sounds a little awkward, but I’m concerned for you.”
Kuno was silent. He had never expected something like this to be
said by Nabiki Tendo. (And certainly not in regards to himself.)
“Concerned?” He asked.
“Yes, concerned. For you.” She said with growing impatience.
“I think you are making a big mistake in chasing after Ranma, and
I am trying to keep you from that mistake.”
“I realize that should fate turn against me, and I be slain in the
course of fulfilling my oath to Saotome, that you would stand to
lose considerably in a financial sense.”
It must have been a Tendo family trait, because a characteristic
Akane snapping sound came from inside Nabiki’s head.
“I don’t give a damn about your money!” She yelled at him.
Kuno stepped back a bit both in surprise at her ferocity and her
foreswearance of wealth.
“Oh, I should have known better than to try and reason with
you,” she went on in a slightly less intense tone of voice. “Any more
than thinking that you had an ounce of common sense in your head!”
She jumped to her feet and thundered past him. She slammed
the door as hard as she could for effect. Kuno stood there watching
her go with a confused look on his face.
**Perhaps I am mistaken, but I do believe Nabiki Tendo is
concerned for me...**
* * *
Later that evening Nabiki found Ukyo listening to music in the
drawing room. She had cooled off from her bungled encounter
with Kuno, and her next course of action was obvious to her. Her
songbirds were there, and to see them serenading Ukyo made her
jealous for an instant before realizing to herself how silly that was.
Ukyo looked up and waved to her.
“Hey Nabiki,” she greeted.
“Hi Ukyo. You look pretty content.”
“Oh I am,” she replied. “I haven’t felt this much at ease with
myself in a long time. It’s funny too, because I had a dream about
Ranma last night.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. Usually they leave me a wreck in the morning. Not
today. I know that he’ll always love Akane, and somehow it just
doesn’t bother me like it used to.”
Nabiki sat down next to her. “Does this mean you’re getting
over him?”
“I still love him,” Ukyo replied. “I’ll always love him. Maybe
this means that I’m ready to move on with my life.” She chuckled
softly. “I mean why should I keep beating myself up over it?”
“No regrets?”
“One,” Ukyo admitted. “I regret not coming to Nerima sooner.
I think if I had come before he started to fall in love with Akane,
he would have fallen for me instead.” She threw back her mane
of dark brown hair. “But you know what? That really doesn’t
bother me anymore either. It’s like this little voice in my head is
telling me not to worry; that no matter who gets whom, everything
will work out for the best.”
Nabiki nodded. She and Ukyo had become rather close in the
past few months, but this was the first time they had ever discussed
her love for Ranma in this way.
“I’m glad to see you feeling better,” Nabiki said softly. “Don’t
let this get out, but I really care about you.”
“Your secret is safe with me,” she whispered with a grin. She
then threw her arms around Nabiki and they hugged warmly.
Nabiki started to get a little choked up. Affection didn’t come
easy to her, and she had never been this way with her sisters. She
loved Kasumi dearly, but with the death of their mother her older
sister had become so distant from them. Akane would always be the
baby of the family, and Nabiki admitted that perhaps a little jealousy
of her had kept them from ever being close. It was strange and also
wonderful that she could be so close to Ukyo.
She sniffled once, fighting back a tear or two. She was on too
much of an emotional roller-coaster tonight. Ukyo gave her a squeeze
and released their embrace. As the okonomiyaki chef drew back
from her, Nabiki put on her best smile and tried to muster the
courage to say what she had come here for.
“I’m leaving with Aerandir in the morning,” she said quickly.
“I kinda guessed that,” Ukyo replied. “Take good care of him.”
“Aerandir can take care of himself,” Nabiki observed.
“That’s not who I was talking about,” Ukyo grinned. “I was
talking about Kuno.”
“Ukyo!” Nabiki cried. “I thought I made things pretty clear to
you about how I felt about him.” **Pompous posturing idiot!**
“Relax Nabiki,” Ukyo giggled, thoroughly amused with the
reaction she had received from her remark. “I’m not saying that
you’re in love with him or anything, but I think you feel for him
more than you care to admit.”
“I’m not going to answer that,” Nabiki said dryly. “But I am
going to ask you to come with us.”
“I can’t,” Ukyo said softly.
“Why not?”
“I just can’t,” she replied. “I need some time to think things
through. It’s why I wanted to go on vacation in the first place.
As long as I’m here, I’m going to take advantage of it. Besides,
it’s not like you’ll never see me again. We’ll all be back in Japan
in a few weeks.”
Nabiki could see that Ukyo was quite sincere in her desire to stay
behind. She decided that perhaps the okonomiyaki chef she had
come to know as her dearest friend could use a little time alone.
She would miss Ukyo, but she was right; they would all be together
again in a few weeks. That wasn’t such a long time to wait.
“I’m going to miss you Ukyo,” Nabiki said to her. “But if it’s
for the best than I won’t argue with you.”
“Nabiki not haggle? I’m surprised you would let me off so easy.
I was expecting a fight.” Ukyo teased.
“Do you want one?” Nabiki replied with a wicked grin.
“No, but I’ll settle for a hug instead.”
“Deal.”
Nabiki reached out and took Ukyo into another warm embrace.
She felt the warmth of a tear on her cheek, and realized that it
belonged to Ukyo. The songbirds trilled softly for them in the
darkness.
* * *
The sky was just turning grey in the east. The wind was soft
and cool, promising a gentle summer day. Tatewaki Kuno brought
the inflatable boat alongside Kelebros. Yiannis took over the tiller
and kept the boat steady as Aerandir sent the Jacob’s ladder over
the side. Kuno pulled himself up the ladder, carrying only his sword.
“You travel lightly Blue Thunder,” Aerandir remarked. “Admirable
for a sailor, but not always wise.”
“It would not be proper to take such things as were lent to me
by thine uncle,” Kuno replied.
“Well I don’t think he was actually _lending_ them to you,”
Aerandir explained. “But it’s no matter. I have such clothes as to
suit the both of us. And my larder is stocked. Are you ready to
sail with me?”
“Verily, ‘tis a fine day to feel the wind at our backs and to hear
the snapping of the canvas.”
“Well spoken, Blue Thunder. If you would man the helm please,
whilst I make preparations to get underway.”
Kuno bowed crisply and strode to the pilot house. Aerandir waved
to Yiannis, who waved back and turned the boat away from Kelebros
and started back towards the beach. That done, he turned to the
mainmast and narrowed his eyes slightly.
“Weigh anchor,” he said in a loud voice.
A bosun’s whistle shrilled from nowhere and the ensign was run
down the jackstaff and appeared running up the mainmast. The
anchor was hauled aboard with the crisp clanking of the wildcat.
Another whistle shrilled.
“Very well,” Aerandir replied. “You may carry on. Smartly
mind you, please. We have an audience.”
Sails billowed open from reef stays. The wind obliged and blew
up to stern, filling the bellies of the canvas with loud cracks.
Invisible hands took turns on the sheets and halyards and
trimmed the rigging smartly. Kelebros began to make headway.
“Steady on the helm, Blue Thunder,” Aerandir advised. “Let’s
see what the wind is doing.”
Kuno kept the rudder steady as Kelebros made for the stony
breakwater. The ship heeled over slightly to starboard, but it was
nothing of much concern. The chop of the seas rolling in through
the channel glittered like quicksilver on grey in the predawn light.
Ukyo watched Kelebros begin it’s departure from the lagoon.
She could clearly see a dozen or so sailors clambering around on
deck or up in the rigging. They wore striped shirts and white trousers
and straw hats with yellow ribbon tails. The wind carried the
sounds of men singing as they hauled at the lines.
When the sun broke over the horizon they seemed to fade
away from sight. Like a mirage. She thought she must have been
seeing things, but the last sailor to fade from sight, high up at the
top of the mainmast, blew her a kiss and waved goodbye.
Sarophan snorted next to her.
“Romantics,” he said quietly.
“Pardon me?” Ukyo asked him.
“Romantic fools,” Sarophan said. “They’ve been dead hundreds
of years and still they flock to my nephew’s banner to sail with him.
Some come all the way from Fiddler’s Green.”
“Ease your rudder two points to port,” Aerandir advised. “Steady
on course 2-4-5.” He turned his face up to his phantom crew. “Mind
the skylarking, lads. Plenty of time for that later.”
Kuno followed the rudder order. The spar for the mainsail shifted
slightly before him. He checked his compass and held the tiller steady
on course at 2-4-5.
“Well done.”
Kuno beamed at the compliment.
Kelebros darted past the breakwater and into the open Aegean.
Aerandir tutored him on the handling of the ship, pleased to find
such an attentive and eager pupil. After awhile he relieved Kuno
at the helm and mentioned that he should go below to have breakfast.
The swordsman felt quite pleased with himself, and hummed
tunelessly as he went below.
He looked about the small galley and dining area scarcely large
enough for four people. There was an arrangement of fruits in a
hanging bag that drifted back and forth slowly with the rocking of
the ship in the waves. Freshly baked bread lay in a basket set in a
recess in the middle of the table to keep it from rolling off. He
chose a mango and began to eat.
On the small stove was a kettle of water put on to boil. The kettle
was held on the griddle-like burner by two metal rods that fit in holes
along the raised edge of the stove. One could shift the rods around to
accommodate larger sized pots, or add more rods and safely cook
with more than one in rough seas.
The water wasn’t yet hot, and so he went forward into Aerandir’s
stateroom for a change of wardrobe. He felt glad to be away from
Ukyo and Nabiki in a way. At least he didn’t have to see to their
safety anymore. He could focus himself upon the task at hand;
repaying his debt as swiftly as possible that he might return home
to Japan.
Of course if it should be by way of the fine vessel he now sailed
upon, then so much the better. Aerandir was an excellent teacher of
seamanship, something Kuno had always wanted to learn more of.
He was after all a skilled mariner, but his first passion was always
swordplay, even at the expense of other disciplines. This was his
opportunity to hone his skills and sharpen his instincts. **Let them
try laughing when next I shouldst sail away with my Pig-Tailed
Goddess!**
He stepped through the door into Aerandir’s stateroom. It was
dimly lit with the drapes pulled over the portholes, and the sun was
yet still struggling on the horizon. He reached for a light switch and
flicked it on.
Nabiki Tendo lay in Aerandir’s bed fast asleep. She was wearing
the smallest nightgown that Tatewaki Kuno had ever seen. Her long
coltish legs were bare, the comforter and sheets thrown carelessly
aside her. His eye caught a teasing glimpse of her black lace panties.
Her bosom swelled in the most inspiring way as she drew slow and
even breaths in her sleep.
Sweat beaded on his forehead and heat began to radiate about
his face. As crafty and dangerous as he knew her to be, in repose
she looked so innocent and, well, beautiful. Angelic, the more he
thought about it. He continued to watch her sleep, fascinated with
her loveliness. Even a little unnerved at her transformation.
Finally it became too much for him and he threw up his hands
to the heavens.
**Oh cruel fate!** He lamented in his mind. **Why hast thou
passed this cup to me? Are not my affections divided enough?**
He reigned himself in, asserting his self control with rare success.
He was strong. What he felt were primal urges, to be denied for
the higher finer beauty of True Love. Love for the Pig-Tailed Girl,
love for Akane Tendo. He couldn’t possibly feel love for Nabiki.
Respect certainly. Even admiration for her strength, resolve,
and wit. But anything more? Absurd!
“Absurd,” he said aloud, and felt better immediately.
There was something very wrong here, but he had yet to
determine what it was.
He tried to ignore her as he searched the wardrobes for something
suitable.
“Mmmmmm..... Hello Kuno-baby,” Nabiki purred luxuriantly
behind him.
He turned around to see her curled suggestively around a large
pillow. Her half-open eyes seemed focused on him. Her mouth was
pursed into a wicked grin.
The badly worn clutch of his mind finally engaged.
“Thou art supposed to be upon the island, woman!” Kuno cried
in a loud voice.
Nabiki was unfazed by his outburst. All of the old cool in her was
back with a vengeance. She yawned casually.
“Now whatever gave you that idea, Kuno-baby?”
Kuno was livid.
“Madness!” he bellowed incoherently. He had no idea where he
was going, and rambled on for several minutes, punctuating his
oratory with various fragments like “Insanity,” “Foolishness,” and
Nabiki’s personal favorite: “Impetuous woman!”
She let him go on like that until he seemed to be reaching some
sort of crescendo. (Although he was making no more sense now
than when he had started his tirade.) Then she pulled the rug out
from under him.
“Give it up Kuno-baby,” she told him softly. “You’re stuck
with me, and it’s for your own good.”
Kuno stopped in mid-finale. The hard look in her eyes told him
volumes. They told him that she wasn’t relenting, and that he was
dashing himself against a wall of iron. His hands sunk down to his
sides and for a moment he seemed like a deflated balloon. It was
almost pathetic.
He sunk down along the bulkhead, sapped of energy. Defeated
as usual by Nabiki Tendo. He wondered what sort of dark powers
she exercised over him to do this with such annoying regularity.
“Might I ask why thou hast chosen to visit this upon me?” He
said wearily from the carpeted deck.
“I told you last night Kuno-baby,” she replied with a slight smile
from over the pillow. “I’m concerned about you.”
Kuno slumped down upon the carpet in total defeat.
Nabiki came up on deck wearing a halter and shorts. She was
barefoot and smiling quite contentedly. Aerandir returned her smile.
“Well I think he took your presence rather well, don’t you think?”
He asked with a wink. It was clear he could hear Kuno’s tirade up
on deck.
“You’re sure we’re too far away to turn back?”
Aerandir chuckled. “Distance has nothing to do with it. I wouldn’t
turn back. You asked to join me on this voyage and I agreed. What
the Blue Thunder may wish of you has nothing to do with our
agreement.”
“Thanks for letting me stay the night onboard,” she said warmly.
“And for keeping him away until we were out to sea.”
“I am your servant, Nabiki,” Aerandir laughed. “It was no trouble.”
He looked across the horizon to the sight of distant ships. A cloud
bank loomed far to port -a squall blown up from the warm Egyptian
air in the south. He reached out and caressed the storm; assessing
its intentions, gauging the strength that it hid within its depths.
“Truth be known Nabiki, I would have dearly wished to have
seen him from a closer vantage point. Is he always so passionate?”
Nabiki blushed a little at his remark. “If you mean excitable,
then yes.”
“I sensed as much in him. You would do well to take care
with him.”
“Oh, I can handle him,” she replied without thinking.
The sweet sound of music filled the air. Nabiki’s trio of songbirds
settled along the rail and chirped excitedly for her. She cried out in
delight and gathered them up onto her arm. They sang a bright aria
in response.
“Aerandir, look!” She cried.
Aerandir offered her a thin smile.
“I see my uncle’s songbirds have taken a fancy to you.”
“He won’t mind will he?” She was clearly taken with them as
well.
Aerandir looked away, pretending to be on the lookout for
shipping traffic. A part of him tugged at the squall, and the winds
shifted to bring it closer. Nabiki hadn’t noticed the darkening
horizon off their port beam. It was still very distant.
“No, I don’t think he will mind their absence.”
Nabiki let the three birds settle on the brass rail that surrounded
the pilot house. They began a slow melody, Handel’s “Wassermusik,”
the first suite in F. “So where are we bound?”
“Monaco,” Aerandir replied. His jovial spirit now seemed quite
subdued.
“Any particular reason? Not that I mind a trip to the south of
France!”
“I have a certain obligation to meet in Monaco. By a happy
coincidence we will likely find your sister and her fiancé there as
well.”
“Akane and Ranma? That’s great!” She was dying to see some
family again. “When do you think we can get there?”
“Perhaps three days,” Aerandir replied. “I don’t think there is
any urgency to require the expenditure of certain Talents to get there
sooner.”
“Just how far can you travel in a night?” She understood now
that he had used some of his enigmatic powers to take them 400
miles in twelve hours in order to reach Kalimnos.
“It depends,” he said evenly. “It depends on how badly I need
to be somewhere, how much strength I have saved up for the task,
and how much energy I can draw on from the sea. I imagine that
I could get us there by tonight, if it was important enough.”
He looked at her. His sea-colored eyes flashed with distant
lightning.
“But I do not feel that is the case. In any event the process
can be very draining, and I might need to save my strength for
other concerns. We shall have to be patient.”
Nabiki walked over to stand close to him.
“What’s the matter, Aerandir? Something is bothering you.”
“Yes, Nabiki... You are a formidable woman indeed... Something
is bothering me, and I suppose that it would only be fair that I share
it with you.”
There was anger veiled in his words. It didn’t seem to be directed
at her, but she became wary of him. She wasn’t sure she wanted to
hear it anymore.
“My uncle has committed himself to a terrible course of action,”
he began. “I have sworn to him that I would not interfere. That he
is my family and I would not betray him. Yet he sends those,” he
pointed to the songbirds, which chirped animatedly. “Because he
does not trust me!”
He raised his fist to the sky and a great bolt of lightning crackled
across the mainmast. The thunderclap report deafened Nabiki, who
huddled in the safety of Aerandir’s loose fitting tunic. The storm
was building to port, rushing closer.
“Has this obsession so twisted your heart that you would think
so low of your own family!?” He bellowed to the storm.
He brought up his hands again and waved them out to his sides.
A great waterspout spiraled up from the sea and began rampaging
in circles around the ship. Seaspray and wind lashed at Nabiki,
who now ducked down along the pilothouse bulkhead for shelter.
Aerandir’s hands crackled with St. Elmo’s fire, and more lightning
crackled in response overhead.
“Aerandir, stop it!” She cried.
Rain began to fall, heavy and cold. Kelebros pitched roughly
against the blackening seas. The swells were swiftly becoming thirty
foot high mountains of icy water. Lines came free from their stays
and whipped mercilessly around the deck.
Aerandir had run forward to stand on the prow, and was
shouting at the sky in his native tongue.
“Aerandir!” Nabiki shouted.
He spun around and whipped up another waterspout with his
raised hands. He sent it spiraling in the opposite direction of the
first, disrupting the waves even more as they crashed against the
hull. A wave broke over the rail and nearly crushed Nabiki against
the bulkhead. She spat out a mouthful of briny water and coughed
up what little she had inhaled.
Kuno stormed up on deck.
“What manner of storm is this?!” He cried.
“It’s Aerandir!” Nabiki yelled back to him, still coughing water.
“He’s gone crazy!”
Kuno fought to keep his balance on the water logged and
pitching deck. He reached Nabiki, who grabbed onto to him for
purchase against the swells. He put an arm around her and held
her fast even as he looped his other arm around the rail.
“There was no hint of madness in him in the morn,” he
remarked to her over the roar of the wind and the furious patter
of rain.
“What do you call this?” She shot back from underneath his arm.
He surveyed the blackened skies and the icy swells that raged
around them. Lightning rent the heavens again with its deafening
report. The rain fell in sheets that had soaked the two of them to
the bone.
“Perhaps I must speak to him lest we founder.”
“You think so?!” Nabiki returned with all the sarcasm she
could muster under the circumstances. **Even in a crisis he’s so
thick-headed!**
“Get thee below, Nabiki Tendo. Thou art ill prepared to face
this squall.”
“I’m staying right here. There’s no way I’m going to try and
make it to the ladder in the middle of this!”
“Very well then,” Kuno said to her. “I ask that you hold fast
to the rail and preserve thy most precious life. I shall attempt to
parley with Master Aerandir.”
He stood up and walked calmly towards the prow. Now that he
understood what was going on, he turned his attentions to proper
balance and footwork upon the slippery wooden deck. He moved
gracefully over the deck watching the waves as they came in,
feeling the subtle shifts in the ship as it wallowed over the swells,
and bracing against the gusts of wind.
“Master Aerandir,” he called in a calm voice.
Aerandir didn’t acknowledge him. He was busy raising up a
third waterspout.
Kuno repeated himself, adding, “thou art frightening the lady.”
Aerandir turned around. He saw Nabiki soaking wet and huddled
in the open pilothouse. She was trying to stay calm, but he could see
into her heart and knew she was terrified.
The waterspouts flew apart around the ship. The winds died
down and the seas with them. The rain faded to a gentle sprinkle.
Without his direction and efforts, the storm that should never have
been now ceased to exist.
He leaned back against the gunwale and sighed heavily. A wisp
of St. Elmo’s fire flickered across his hands and sparkled into
nothingness.
“I suppose I _did_ overdo it a bit,” he observed. “But I wanted
my uncle to know exactly what I thought of his gift.”
He sighed again.
“It felt good to get that all out of my system. My apologies if I
frightened you.”
Nabiki stood up. She tried wringing out her now sopping wet
halter top. Her confusion with him gave her a wary countenance.
He seemed very kind and gentle, yet this rampant display of violent
power was stark contrast to the man she thought she knew.
**I should kick myself for thinking I could figure him out in
just a few days. He’s eight thousand years old for gosh sakes. I
probably haven’t seen of fraction of his personality. Or his
power.**
Aerandir walked aft to the pilothouse. He bowed his head for
her.
“Are you injured?”
Nabiki brushed at some of the water that beaded on her from
the drizzling rain.
“Not really. A little bruised maybe, but nothing serious.”
“I offer my apologies to you. I am used to traveling alone,
where such outbursts harm no one. They are quite rare I assure
you, but when I do let go it isn’t gentle.”
She tried to smile for him. “Just warn me next time, okay.”
“I shall endeavor not to have a next time around you,” he
replied. “Perhaps you should get below and change out of your
wet clothes.”
Nabiki nodded agreement. Without a word she went below.
Aerandir brushed at his clothes, which dried instantly in wisps
of steam. He looked at Kuno, who now had the helm and kept
Kelebros on course. He knew it wasn’t necessary, as the ship
looked after itself, but admired Kuno’s instincts. Perhaps in a
few years he would be worthy sailor.
“I am very sorry Blue Thunder. I never meant for any harm
to befall her.”
Kuno nodded in acceptance of Aerandir’s apology. “While she
may have the frailties of her gender, she is of strong character and
spirit. I do not believe she will hold this long against thee.”
“For that I am glad. I would be sorely wounded to lose the
friendship of Nabiki Tendo.”
Chapter Three
Ivan Tarchenko walked down the wide boulevards of the city to
his usual Paris haunt, a sidewalk cafe on the Left Bank of the Seine.
He ordered the usual, and was rewarded with the appearance of his
contact some minutes later. The man sat down across from him.
“<You are given final authorization to proceed with your action,>”
the man said to him in French.
“<But can I count on your support?>” Tarchenko asked with a
sharp edge to his question.
“<We are prepared to accept custody, but be advised that if any
formal proceedings should occur as a result we will not hesitate to
take the appropriate steps to keep ourselves clean.>”
Tarchenko nodded at the old give-and-take. “<I understand,
but let me offer you this in return: your ardent cooperation with
me will be looked upon favorably by the men I represent. I am
well aware that the Paris Section is in decline with the lack of
funding in recent times.>” He left the rest open to speculation.
The man nodded with a grunt. He knew which side his bread
was buttered on.
“<We shall make every effort to support you in Paris.>”
“<You have no idea of the confidence that inspires in me,>”
Tarchenko replied.
The man stood up from his chair and lost himself in the crowds
of commuters spilling up from the Metro station below the street.
Tarchenko reached into his coat pocket and retrieved a cellular
phone. He stabbed a quick encryption key code into the unit and
then dialed. After some minutes he was rewarded with the
polyphonic tones of the unit on the receiving end entering the
correct return code.
“<Your orders?>” Crackled Fyodor’s voice.
“<You may proceed as planned,>” Tarchenko told him crisply.
“<Understood.>”
The line clicked dead. Tarchenko put the phone back into his
pocket and finished his coffee.
* * *
Nabiki couldn’t find it in her heart to stay upset with Aerandir
for very long. They had passed the day at sea in good spirits. Kuno
had gotten over her presence on board, seeing as how Aerandir
had no intentions of returning her to the island.
Her songbirds had fled below when Aerandir began his tantrum.
Now they perched upon the rail of the pilothouse and serenaded
her with a little Mendelssohn. Even Aerandir didn’t seem to mind
them as much, especially as how they made her so happy to have
them around.
This afternoon found Kuno and Aerandir standing on deck
facing off with swords. It hadn’t taken long for the subject of
fencing to come up between them. Nabiki watched them size
the other up while sipping iced tea.
Kuno of course had his katana, which was a beautiful family
sword. She didn’t doubt it’s edge one bit, she’d seen its handiwork
first hand. Aerandir’s sword however was far more exotic. The
metal looked like it had been woven from several different pieces
and hammered flat into a wavy blade similar to a flambergé.
Delicate engravings were etched on the blade in that gorgeous
ancient script, the hilt was ivory and gold and set with emeralds
and aquamarine and lapis lazuli.
“Don’t kill yourselves,” she called to them as it looked like
they were ready to fight.
“I have faith in the Blue Thunder’s skill,” Aerandir replied.
They came at each other with lightning swift strokes. Their
blades flashed in the sunlight but never once connected with
each other nor the flesh of their opponents. After the first
engagement they backed off and assessed the other’s style.
“You fight rather well, Blue Thunder. However I know you’re
holding back from me.”
“I may say the same of thee,” Kuno replied. “First we must
determine the rhythm of our opponent that we may strike outside
of it.”
“I find it odd that a man who holds the tenets of Musashi close
to his heart only wields one sword.”
“It is the way of the Kuno family.”
“I understand.”
They came at each other again. Nabiki couldn’t even see their
blades moving, just a flashing blur of glinting steel. It ended as
abruptly as it began, with Aerandir stepping back and bowing his
head.
“Well done,” he said in compliment for Kuno’s skill.
Kuno bowed in respectful acknowledgment of the compliment.
“Did I miss something?” Nabiki asked them. “I never even
heard your swords touch each other.”
“And mar these fine blades needlessly?” Aerandir replied.
“It is not necessary for two swordsmen of sufficient caliber to
resort to such coarse and vulgar means of sparring,” Kuno supplied.
Aerandir nodded his head in agreement.
“So you just wave your swords at each other until someone
decides that he’s outmatched?”
“There is more involved, but that is the gist of the argument,”
Aerandir said to her. “It was plainly obvious that the Blue Thunder
has more speed than I. He also practices rigorously every day. I
haven’t picked up my sword to spar or otherwise for decades.
I think he went easy on me or he would have defeated me even
sooner.”
“If I may be so bold as to point out that thy heavier blade is
not as well matched against my lighter swifter blade for such
unarmored combat,” Kuno said, pointing to Aerandir’s sword
with his own.
“Very true, but you are being too modest Blue Thunder.
Yours was clearly the superior skill.”
Nabiki had to snicker at that remark. **Kuno modest?**
“Allow me to offer you this in appreciation of a master
swordsman if I may,” Aerandir continued. He squinted his eyes
for just a moment. The sword he held in his hand seemed to
burst into a silvery flame.
Kuno’s eyes widened in wonder. Nabiki had to shade her eyes
with her hand to cut down on the glare from the sword.
“I can teach you this,” Aerandir told him. “Your martial focus
and your bond with your blade is already so close that it would take
little effort on your part once I explained the foundations of the
technique.”
Kuno was flabbergasted.
“I would be honored Master Aerandir,” he replied after a few
minutes of envious staring at the sparkling ethereal flames that
licked along the blade.
“Good! We have a few days before we reach Monaco. That
should be time enough to get you started if we work at it. Who
knows? You may master this in only a few years.”
Nabiki looked at Kuno, and saw wheels turning in his head
that were unlike any she had ever expected from him. Then
again, this was about sword fighting, his only genius and first
passion of anything in this world. He’d probably have it down
pat by the end of the week.
* * *
Professor McFogg took his tea with Mister Clay and the Prince
of Monaco a little earlier than usual. All three were busy men, but
had decided that an old friendship was worth a little sacrifice of
decorum. McFogg raised his teacup to the Prince and thought
back to the good old days.
“Ah Henri, when was the last time we took tea together?”
Prince Rainier III gave him a chuckle. The man was in his
early seventies, still fit and hale despite the weight of age and the
hard times he had lived through.
“I believe it was about this time last year. The last time I held
this charity ball,” he replied.
“Quite so,” McFogg said quietly. “I have been a little busy to
call on you more often.”
“We have both been busy,” the Prince added. “How does your
little project fare these days?” He made an aside to Clay, “I
remember when he first told me about it. My daughter was being
christened. I almost laughed out loud right there in the cathedral.
I’m sure the Bishop would have had me excommunicated on the
spot, sovereign or not!”
Clay laughed at his anecdote, not at all surprised to hear
something like that in regards to the Professor.
“We’ve had a bit of a setback recently,” McFogg admitted.
“But we are very close.”
“You’re running out of time, if I remember correctly.”
“Henri! Bite your tongue. I haven’t spent fifty years of my life
just to lose everything in the last few weeks. In any event, we have
found our Wayfinders. They will set us back on the path.”
“So your father was right,” the Prince remarked. “I take it
these Wayfinders are the young couple you are bringing with
you to the ball?”
“Correct as usual, Henri.”
“I shall look forward to meeting them, then.”
* * *
Ranma-chan decided that all things considered, it wasn’t a bad
looking bikini that she wore. She certainly drew enough appreciative
looks from the men. It was just a little frustrating that she couldn’t
enjoy a trip to the beach without becoming a girl. She could have
worn a conservative one-piece, but she figured that as long as she
was going to be playing on the ritzy Larvotto Beach in Monte
Carlo, she might as well look like she belonged. Half the girls here
were topless anyway.
**Ryoga would have bled to death by now,** she mused,
watching a pair of French girls saunter by giggling like school
children. The two were wearing something approximating dental
floss. Between them they might have had enough suit material
to seal the proverbial aspirin bottle.
**And I thought the suit Nabiki made me wear was
nonexistent.**
She had a couple bottles of flavored mineral water for herself
and Akane. As she made her way down the stone steps to the
beach, she spotted Hiro and Ferguson coming from across the
sand towards her. Hiro was wearing a tank top and swim trunks,
while Ferguson indulged in a pair of Speedos. The scientist was
deathly in need of a tan.
“<Hello there lass,>” Ferguson greeted her. “<You’re looking
beautiful today.>”
There was something disturbing about Ferguson’s words. Like
he didn’t mind that Ranma was really a guy even when he happened
to be a girl at the moment. At least his transformation hadn’t
completely freaked him out the first time like it did most people.
“<Hi Ferg,>” Ranma-chan replied. “<You’re blinding me with
that lack of a tan.>”
Ferguson laughed. “<Perhaps I _should_ get out more.>”
“That for Akane-chan?” Hiro asked, gesturing to the bottled
water.
“Yeah. Do you know where she went off to? I can’t see her
from here.”
Ferguson waved to the two and started off. “<I’m headed back
for the hotel before I get burnt to a crisp. See you this evening.
Ciao.>”
Hiro and Ranma-chan waved good-bye.
“Yeah I know where she is,” Hiro said to her when Ferguson
had left. “Follow me.”
Ranma-chan followed his lead.
“You know you _are_ looking pretty sassy in that bikini,
Saotome.”
“Watch it, Hiro.”
“Just making an observation.”
They continued on down the beach a little ways.
“So you talk to her yet?” Hiro asked.
“About?”
“You know what I’m talking about.”
Ranma-chan was silent a moment. He and Akane had reached
an unspoken agreement wherein they just didn’t talk about what
had happened that night in Hiro’s hotel room in Spain. About
marrying Akane, and his unreadiness to do so. That didn’t mean
he hadn’t been thinking about it ever since. He had the sleepless
nights to prove it.
“Not yet.”
“You’re blowing it, Saotome.”
Ranma-chan kicked at the sand.
“Who are you supposed to be, my old man?”
“Nah, just your friend.”
“Some friend to keep opening up old wounds.”
“Better to open them up and let ‘em drain than to sit there and
watch them fester,” Hiro countered. “But, hey, I’ll lay off for now.”
They found Akane asleep on her beach towel. She was wearing
a turquoise colored bikini with tiny silver stars embroidered upon
it. An arm was draped over her eyes to keep the Mediterranean
sun at bay.
Ranma-chan pressed her finger to her lips and bade Hiro be
silent. Very carefully she crept up to Akane. Hiro started to snigger
when he saw Ranma-chan carefully position the icy bottle of
water over Akane’s belly.
She slid the cold wet bottle over Akane, who doubled up and
screamed in shock and surprise. Ranma-chan jumped back with
a cackling laugh, and Hiro fell over onto the sand. Akane caught
her bearings, saw Ranma-chan with the offending bottle still in
her hand, and began to steam about the ears.
“Raaanmaaaa....”
“Aw whatsa matter Akane?” Ranma-chan mocked. “Was
that cold?”
“.....Die.....”
“Run, Saotome! Run!” Hiro cried, nearly in tears at this point.
Ranma-chan decided that Hiro might have a point. She hopped
to her feet and bolted away. Akane jumped up after her and
began yelling for her to stop. Voices of beach goers cried out in
a medley of French, Italian, Monégasque, and English as they
weaved through them.
“What? So you can clobber me? No way!” Ranma-chan cried
in response.
She decided to cool her off by heading for the water. Akane
followed after as Ranma-chan ran past the crowds and dove
headlong into a wave. When she came up, Akane was there
next to her. She was Not Amused.
“Uhh... Hi Akane!” She cried in her sunniest voice.
Akane dropped a fist down on top of her head. Ranma-chan
sunk beneath the waves. Bubbles appeared at the top of the water
as a wave rolled gently over her.
Ranma-chan burst to the surface a moment later waggling her
tongue at Akane.
“You never cease to amaze me Ranma,” Akane told her,
ignoring the raspberry she was getting.
Ranma-chan stopped. “Oh yeah?”
“Just when I think you can’t be any bigger jerk you always top
yourself!”
“I couldn’t help it!” Ranma-chan cried. “You were practically
_begging_ for me to do it!”
“I’m going to kill you now...” Akane replied in a cold blooded
voice.
She dunked Ranma-chan in the next instant. She brought her
back out of the water to take a breath, then dunked her back under.
This continued for several cycles before Ranma-chan started
laughing when she should have been concentrating on breathing.
Akane dunked her again, and this time Ranma-chan caught a
lungful of water. When she began struggling in her grasp, Akane
let her up. Ranma-chan burst out of the water coughing and
spluttering.
Concern replaced anger in Akane’s eyes.
“Are you all right?”
“Fine,” Ranma-chan gasped. “Just peachy.” She spat out a
bit of water. “For tryin’ to breathe in the whole ocean I’m just
fine.”
“Serves you right you jerk,” Akane scolded.
“I’m sorry if you’re sorry,” Ranma-chan returned.
Akane looked at her for a moment. “I’m sorry, Ranma.”
Ranma-chan grinned. “Changed my mind, I’m not sorry!” She
pushed Akane under and then lifted her up and started laughing.
It was a playful laugh, and instead of being set off again, Akane
started laughing and playfully wrestling with her.
“You are such a jerk, Ranma!” She cried merrily.
“I know,” she replied with another grin. Without thinking of
her present form, she took Akane up into a hug.
Akane thought nothing of it either at first. She put her arms
around Ranma-chan and kissed her cheek. She was so used to
seeing Ranma as a girl that it didn’t click.
It was after they pressed close to each other that they
remembered.
“Oops,” Ranma-chan said softly. “Sorry, wasn’t thinking.”
“Neither was I,” Akane said with a bit of a blush. “Everybody
probably thinks we’re lesbians now.”
“You crazy kids!” Hiro called to them through the surf. “I
can’t leave you two alone for a minute before you’re off necking
somewhere!”
Akane saw that Hiro was still wearing his tank top in the water.
“Take your shirt off Hiro,” she called back to him. “Let’s see
what a _real_ man’s chest looks like!” At this last bit she cocked
her head towards Ranma-chan, who grunted something inaudible
and probably profane.
Hiro looked suddenly very uncomfortable.
“Uh, that’s okay. I think I’ll keep it on, thanks.”
Akane was about to ask what the problem was when Ranma-chan
nudged her beneath the water.
“Drop it,” she whispered.
She looked quickly to Ranma-chan, who gave her an equally
quick ‘trust me on this’ look. Then she turned back and smiled
for Hiro.
“Okay. Suit yourself!” She said cheerily.
Nothing could have suited Hiro more than to drop the subject.
He came up to them and splashed them both with water. They
doused him in reply.
“Enjoying ourselves?” He asked, wiping his wet hair out of
his eyes.
“Oh yes,” Akane replied wistfully. “If it wasn’t for this whole
‘event’ business this would be the most fun I’ve had in a very
long while. But don’t get me wrong, I’m still having a grand time!”
“I think Akane’s figured out that she likes to travel,” Ranma-chan
observed.
“Plenty of that to be had,” Hiro replied. “I guess we’re heading
back to England tomorrow -since we can’t figure out where to go
next.”
Akane looked downcast.
“I’m really sorry we couldn’t help the Professor. I feel like we
let him down.”
“We’ll think of something. I know we’ve got some of the
smartest people in the world working on it. Don’t let it bother
you Akane-chan, nobody’s blaming you for anything.”
“If only we could figure out what the ‘Crown of Eternity’
meant,” Ranma-chan said. She had been thinking about it off and
on ever since the event in Granada. She’d also been thinking
about the vision with Ukyo, and wondering if it was symbolic
or a harbinger of things to come.
“There’s only about three hundred and fifty known geographical
references with the word ‘Eternity’ in them,” Hiro said. “So either
it’s a metaphor for something, or we’re in for a very long search.”
“If Anazali shows up again, we could ask her,” Akane offered.
“She might know.”
“She’ll turn up whenever she has something to say to us,”
Ranma-chan said. “Not before.”
“Well enough about that stuff,” Hiro said to them. “In my
capacity as majordomo and all around Man Friday for the
Professor, it is my duty to inform you that you still have to get
fitted for that tuxedo some time today. And your gown Akane;
it will probably need to have a few finishing touches put on it
that will require your presence.”
“Do we have to go tonight?” Ranma-chan asked.
Akane elbowed her stiffly in the ribs. “Of course we have to
go,” she replied. “The Professor has once again gone to a lot of
trouble for us. We’re obligated.”
“I know nothing about ballroom dancing!” Ranma-chan
protested.
“Well you’re in luck,” Akane said with a wicked grin. “I do.”
“So?”
“So I’ll have to lead, I guess. Face it Ranma; you’re going to
waltz with me tonight, and you’re going to like it.”
Ranma-chan groaned pathetically.
The familiar howl of Pratt and Whitney R-1830 supercharged
engines grew in their ears. They looked up to see Bettie’s Dare
roar overhead at about three hundred feet. The Catalina pushed
over into a turn, rounded the Fort Antoine Theater in the distant
Monaco district, and came in for a landing just outside the
concrete breakwater of the large La Condamine marina. It
taxied into the marina and disappeared from sight behind the
bevy of yachts at anchor there.
“Looks like Durango and D-Day have arrived,” Hiro remarked.
“Don’t tell me they’re going to this ball, too?” Ranma-chan
asked.
“Probably not; it’s a black tie affair. Heironymous hates to
dress up.”
“So why is he here?” Akane asked.
“Beats me. I guess we can ask him later.”
* * *
Kelebros reached Monaco about midway through the third
afternoon at sea. Aerandir conversed in French with Monaco
Harbor Control via a small maritime radio. Nabiki watched the
yachts and merchant shipping sailing around them as they neared
the marina. Kuno kept a sharp lookout for any possible collision
hazards on the prow.
“<Thank you very much, Monaco Control,>” Aerandir said
fondly into the radio.
“<It is always a pleasure to hear from you, Monsieur
Aerandir,>” Control replied.
Aerandir looked to Nabiki and winked. “It’s nice to be well
known in these waters. You should see the trouble I have getting
into Rio de Janeiro sometimes.”
“Something tells me you can sweet-talk your way into any
harbor you like,” Nabiki returned.
“Perhaps so, but it is nice to have them cooperative from the
start.” He looked forward to Kuno, who was scanning the waters
ahead of them with a pair of binoculars.
“Blue Thunder! I intend to make my turn at Buoy Number
Three, marked in red with two white lights. I shall come right to
course 2-6-1 and proceed into the marina. Do keep an eye out
for that bulk freighter bearing on our port beam.”
“Yes, the contemptible vessel seems bound and determined to
intercept us at every turn,” Kuno observed. He scanned the 45,000
ton container ship with the binoculars. “The MV La Roussa, out
of Genoa. We shall have to report them to the maritime authorities.”
The container ship was bound for nearby Nice.
“Perhaps,” Aerandir replied, but the tone of his voice suggested
that he was used to inconsiderate ships’ masters. “I have advised
them of my intentions, and they have informed me that they will
stand off and allow our turn.”
Nabiki watched the interplay between all of the ships around
them. She never imagined that the Mediterranean would be so
busy. Today alone she had seen numerous merchant ships,
pleasure yachts, an oil tanker, an Italian submarine surface
bound for Toulon, and a U.S. Navy carrier battlegroup that
Aerandir informed her was bound for the Persian Gulf. Even
with them several thousand yards from the nearest escort
ship, the carrier’s size defied belief.
Aerandir wheeled Kelebros around the buoy. As it did so, Kuno
watched as MV La Roussa picked up speed and swept by them
with five hundred yards to spare. Perhaps Nabiki didn’t appreciate
that five hundred yards was a very small distance when it came to
ships that required several miles of water to turn or stop in, but
she couldn’t understand why Aerandir made such a big deal about
it.
Kelebros slipped past the concrete breakwater and into the
marina harbor. The sight of so many beautiful (and ridiculously
expensive) yachts in one place was starting to make Nabiki’s
mouth water. Aerandir guided the ship carefully alongside the
designated slip. With no propulsion power other than the wind,
it took longer than the Pier Services crew waiting on the slip
were used to. In the end Aerandir cheated a little to get his
favorable winds.
They tied up alongside the slip and Aerandir spoke with the
Port Authority and with Customs in rapid fire French. He handed
several small black books to the man, who looked them over and
nodded approvingly. The Customs man left without another
word, while the man from the Port Authority went through
the standard Pier Services and Harbor fees routine.
When the business was concluded Aerandir returned to Kuno
and Nabiki.
“I have arraigned entry visas for the two of you,” he told
them. “These are your passports. I admit they have dubious
origins but will pass any spot inspection they may be subjected to.”
“Where did you get these?” Nabiki asked.
“I had an idea that you would be accompanying me in the
future,” Aerandir told them. “So I had them made before we left
the other morning using my uncle’s resources. I had expected
Ukyo to join us as well, so I had one made for her. I’m very sorry
she did not.”
Nabiki and Kuno took their respective passports. They seemed
a little heavy.
“I have a few more things to take care of, so if you would like
to do a little sight-seeing than you are welcome to do so. Just don’t
forget where Kelebros is moored. And remember that you still have
to return in time to get dressed for the ball this evening, so if you
could return by sundown that would probably be best.”
“Great!” Nabiki said. “Come on Kuno-baby, let’s go shopping.”
She took his arm and led him across the brow. He threw
Aerandir a confused look, which the mariner returned with a
wink.
“I shall see you this evening!” Aerandir reminded them.
The first thing Nabiki did was find them a taxi. Fortunately she
found one whose driver spoke passable English. She communicated
her desires to do a little sight-seeing and a little shopping at the same
time. The driver understood and drove them into Fontvieille district.
The crowded houses and buildings of Monaco were a comfort
to her, as they reminded her so much of Tokyo. Monaco of course
was having a bit more trouble with the availability of real estate
than Japan, but in contrast none of the residents seemed to mind
as much. The first thing she noticed about the people of this tiny
principality was that while they were very friendly and outgoing,
no one was in any kind of hurry.
As she suspected, what made their passports so heavy was
that Aerandir had stuffed them with spending money, and a little
note from him telling them to enjoy themselves. She had 5000
French francs or roughly the equivalent of 100,000 yen. The
amount surprised her as much as it delighted her. Then again
having lived as long as he did, he had ample opportunity to
amass the kind of fortune where such generosity came easy.
She decided to pass on the generosity and tipped the cabbie
handsomely. He nodded thanks and gave them a personal card.
If they ever needed a ride somewhere they could just call, any
time day or night. Nabiki accepted the card with a grin.
**Making connections already. I like this place.**
Kuno was just along for the ride. He followed her lead, and
didn’t object when she took his arm in hers. He tried to look as
noble and self-assured as possible given the circumstances.
Although it wasn’t proper for a Japanese lady to be so forward
in public, he found that he didn’t mind. It was the Nabiki he
had always known, and he doubted she would ever change
for anyone. They window shopped and browsed along the
narrow cobblestone streets and watched the people go by.
He drew a few stares for the sword he wore at his side, but
no one, not even the friendly faced police, made any issue of it.
Their first stop was a boutique that offered French and
Italian cosmetics. Tatewaki Kuno stood with incredible patience
and self discipline as Nabiki tried this or that perfume, a few
earrings and other knickknacks that men the world over just
can’t fathom the importance of, and a few shades and brands of
lipstick. It was mostly browsing, although she did buy an ounce
of a perfume that Kuno found he rather liked on her. (Of course
he was her guinea pig for all of the scents she sampled.)
They enjoyed cups of espresso at a sidewalk cafe afterwards.
Kuno nibbled at an Italian soft fried pastry but found he had little
appetite. Nabiki finished her cup and ordered another round.
“Something vexes thee, Kuno-baby?” She asked with a
sardonic smile.
Kuno raised an eyebrow at her, the most emotional response
she’d received all day from him. It must have been because she
had turned the tables on him again from their conversation in
Sarophan’s villa five days earlier.
“Not at all, Nabiki Tendo.”
“You’re sure?”
“Verily.”
“Doesn’t seem that way from where I’m sitting.” She reached
over and took his mostly untouched pastry and began to break it
up with her fingers. “Since you obviously don’t want it,” she added
in justification. She popped a piece into her mouth for punctuation.
Kuno sat there in silent reflection. From the look of him he
didn’t seem to like whatever conclusion he was reaching. He
looked down at his tepid espresso and tried a sip. He immediately
regretted it.
“You aren’t supposed to let it get cold Kuno-baby.”
A serving girl brought over their second round of espressos.
“Try it now,” Nabiki told him.
Kuno did so. He regretted it a second time.
“It appears I have no taste for this beverage.”
Nabiki signaled the girl to come over and ordered a cup of tea
for Kuno. He would have to settle for Oolong.
“It might be a bad idea for me to drink three espressos, but I
hate to see yours go to waste.”
Kuno handed her the cup and sighed. There was definitely
something bothering him. Nabiki hated to see him like that.
“Oh come on Kuno-baby, what’s the matter? You can tell me
now or you can listen to me ask you until doomsday.”
Kuno sighed again, knowing that she would make good on
her threat. “It wounds me to admit it.”
“Admit it? Admit what?”
He steeled himself. “It wounds me to admit that I was wrong.”
Her mind turned in circles for a few seconds trying to figure
out what he was talking about.
“Wrong about what?”
“Wrong to think that I didst not require thy company on this
voyage. Your skills in socialization and intercultural relations far
surpass mine own. I admit that I would not have the slightest idea
what to do in this place were it not for you to guide me. I offer
you my humblest apologies for my outburst aboard the ship.”
Nabiki’s eyes widened a little. That Kuno would ever own
up to such a thing was remarkable in and of itself. That he would
do so to _her_ was downright amazing. “That’s so sweet,
Kuno-baby. I didn’t think you had it in you.”
“Then you accept my apology?”
“Of course I do.”
She reached over and patted his hand. “Tell you what
Kuno-baby; leave everything to me. As soon as I need your
sword, I’ll be sure to point you in the right direction and turn
you loose.”
Kuno wasn’t sure just how much of her was being patronizing
and how much was sincere. He decided that she was a little of
both. That was in keeping with her personality. At least she hadn’t
laughed at him.
“Finish your tea,” she told him. “We don’t have much longer
until we have to get back to the marina.”
Ranma, Akane, and Hiro strolled down the street. Akane
had the two men on either arm and was enjoying how good
that felt. They were on their way to back to their hotel in
Monaco district overlooking the La Condamine marina harbor.
Rather than take a cab they decided to walk. The beautiful
summer day was drawing to a close, and they wanted to enjoy
every minute of it.
“This is such a beautiful place,” Akane said to them.
“Too bad we can’t stay here longer,” Ranma replied. He
found he liked Monaco as well.
“Spain was nice,” Hiro observed.
“You mean the Spanish women were nice,” Ranma amended
for him.
“That too.”
“Oh-my-God,” Nabiki said softly. She couldn’t believe her eyes.
Kuno looked up from his cup of tea.
“Nabiki Tendo, thou lookest as if thou hast seen a ghost.”
“Not a ghost Kuno-baby, just my little sister.” She rose quickly
to her feet.
Kuno nearly spat out his tea.
Akane stopped dead in her tracks. Ranma and Hiro were
dragged to a halt.
“Jeez Akane, ya nearly ripped my arm out of its socket,”
Ranma groused.
Hiro looked at Akane, whose eyes were wide open in shock.
“What is it, Akane-chan?”
“Akane!” Nabiki cried. “Ranma!”
Kuno looked across the street to see Akane Tendo, the
accursed Ranma Saotome, and of all people the radioman for
3rd Platoon, ‘A’ Company; Private Ohata if he was not mistaken.
Akane ran across the street heedless of the traffic. Ranma
chased after her, stopping a cab before it could hit her. The driver
blared his horn in protest. Hiro brought up the rear wondering
what the hell was going on.
Nabiki ran out to meet her sister, and the two caught each
other up in a fierce embrace. Tears fell unbidden from her eyes
as she beheld her little sister looking tanned and gorgeous in her
arms. Akane squeezed with all of her prodigious strength, nearly
suffocating her.
“Nabiki! How? I-”
“I’ll explain in a minute,” Nabiki said in her ear. “You’re
crushing me, sis.”
“Oh!” Akane released her hold on Nabiki.
“I’m so glad I found you two,” Nabiki said to them. Kuno
joined them in the middle of the street. The cab continued to
honk its horn.
“Kuno? You’re here too?” Akane asked. Ranma rolled his eyes,
trying to imagine what stroke of misfortune was being dealt to him
now.
“Oh Akane, my heart leaps to behold you!”
Ranma casually planted his foot in Kuno’s face before he could
catch Akane in his embrace.
“How’s it going, Kuno?” Hiro asked with a chuckle. He hadn’t
seen Ranma and Kuno go at it since last autumn on some nameless
Korean hill. It brought a smile to his face to know that some things
didn’t change.
Kuno peeled himself off of Ranma’s foot and glared for a
second.
“I am well, Private Ohata.”
“Just call me Hiro, now.”
The cabbie’s horn became quite insistent. A crowd was starting
to gather to see what was the matter.
“We better let this guy get by us,” Ranma advised.
They returned to the cafe. Nabiki brought them up to date with
the things that had happened to them since Ranma and Akane had
left Japan. They in turn told them about Anazali and the visions
they had received.
“Where’s Ukyo?” Ranma asked. “Did she come too?”
“She stayed on the island with Aerandir’s uncle,” Nabiki
supplied.
“So now these Russians are after you?” Hiro asked her.
“Us and probably Ranma and Akane as well.”
“That shall never happen,” Kuno said firmly. He fingered the
sword at his side.
“We have to tell the Professor about this,” Hiro declared. “This
might change everything.”
The rest agreed. Even Ranma. Both groups had to return to their
respective lodgings to get changed, and they parted with the
understanding that they would meet at the Prince’s ball and talk
to the Professor. Aerandir would be there, and Ranma hoped that
perhaps Anazali herself would put in an appearance. The two of
them were obviously cut from the same cloth; both from Nabiki’s
description of Aerandir, and in her retelling of the mariner’s
historical account.
* * *
“This gets more and more complicated by the minute,” Akane
said. She twirled around for Ranma. “How do I look?”
Ranma took in the sight of her in a luminous white ballroom
gown laden with pearls and tiny gold beads. Ribbons and lace
flower blossoms adorned her hair. All she needed were wings
and a halo and he would have been looking at an angel.
“Wow,” was the best he could manage.
Akane beamed at the compliment.
“You look very handsome yourself.”
Ranma looked down at his tuxedo. “I feel even more like
a penguin.”
Akane straightened his bow tie. “What is it with you and ties?
They never stay straight on you.”
Ranma rolled his eyes. “I guess they’re trying to tell me
something.”
“Like?”
“Don’t wear ‘em.”
Akane stood up on her toes and kissed him on the corner of
his mouth.
“I like to see you dressed like this.”
She then realized that she had smeared lipstick on him. She
giggled a little but wouldn’t tell him what was wrong. She went
to the bathroom and wet a washcloth to dabble on his face.
“Aggh!” He cried, figuring it out for himself.
“Don’t touch it,” she called to him. “You’ll just get it all over
your clothes.”
“What is it with girls and makeup anyway?”
“It makes us look prettier,” she answered.
“You look fine without it,” he remarked, still having no idea
what the big deal was.
Akane looked at him softly. “For a jerk you can say the nicest
things at times.” She dabbled at his face. “I’d kiss you again for
that, but I’m trying to get this off you.”
She flicked his pig-tail back over his shoulder and brushed at
his lapel.
“Ready?”
Ranma shrugged. “I still don’t like the idea of dancing with all
those rich people.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll lead, remember?”
“Okay.”
They walked out the door of the room. Hiro and Clay were
standing there waiting. The Professor and Ferguson stepped out
of their rooms. The Professor had his meerschaum pipe clenched
in his teeth and smiled warmly for Akane.
“<A vision of oriental beauty, is she not?>” He asked the
assembled party.
They quickly agreed. Akane blushed.
“<Shall we be off?>”
Hiro nodded. “<I have the limousine waiting outside.>”
McFogg and the others started for the elevator lobby with Hiro
in the lead. Akane held Ranma back for a minute. She wanted to
talk to him, away from the others.
“I’m going to miss this,” she sighed.
“Miss what?”
“Dressing up, going to exotic parties, traveling across Europe.
What are the chances we’ll ever get to do this again?”
“I guess never,” he admitted ruefully. He had come to enjoy
their time with the Professor’s group himself. “Once this is over
and we go home to Nerima that’ll be the end of it.”
“That’s why I want to enjoy the moment while we have it,
Ranma. That’s why I want you to enjoy yourself tonight. I want
these to be fond memories we’ll share for the rest of our lives.”
**Share for the rest of our lives...** Ranma thought as he
took Akane’s arm in his. He looked at her as they walked to the
elevator lobby and his heart swelled with love for her. In that
moment of reflection he found a new resolve within him.
**I want to share the rest of my life with you, Akane...**
He clenched his right hand into a fist. His knuckles popped,
he squeezed so hard.
**Now I just gotta bring myself to tell her that!**
“I’m a little worried about what Nabiki told us,” Akane said,
oblivious to the turmoil that raged suddenly within him.
“I won’t let anything happen to you,” Ranma replied. “I
swear to you.”
“This is just so crazy. I mean how did we get caught up in the
middle of all this? Now my sister and Kuno and even Ukyo are
involved.”
“It’s my fault. Remember what Anazali told us? She said it
was my ki-blast in North Korea that got all these people’s
attentions.”
“She isn’t telling us everything. There’s more to it than that.
I saw the lions again in Granada. They told me we both had parts
to play in this. I just want to know what they are!”
“I know,” Ranma soothed. “Me too... But until then all we
can do is watch out for these Russians and take this one day
at a time.”
Chapter Four
“<His Royal Highness, Rainier Louis Henri Maxence Bertrand
de Grimaldi the Third, Prince of Monaco!>” The Herald cried in
a great voice for the assembled guests. His announcement was
followed by a bright trumpet fanfare.
Those seated rose to their feet. A great clamor of applause
arose as the Prince entered the Grand Ballroom of the Palace
with his retinue. The band began to play the National Anthem of
Monaco, “Monegasque.” A Color Guard, wearing brightly
polished breastplates and morion helms and bearing silvered
pikes with red and white pennons tied to them, brought in the
family colors of the House of Grimaldi and the flag of Monaco;
a banner split in half lengthwise with a bar of red above a bar
of white.
Ranma joined Akane in the applause, as did Nabiki, Kuno
and Hiro. The five Japanese stood at their table, which was next
to a table occupied by the Professor, Ferguson, and Clay. That
table in turn was next to the one the Prince would retire to once
the formalities were dispensed. Aerandir was somewhere across
the brilliantly polished marble floor mingling with old
acquaintances.
Professor McFogg also had a guest at his table, an old man
named Casimir. They hadn’t met him yet, but they assumed it
was the same Doctor Casimir the Professor had mentioned before.
If he was the Professor’s friend, they decided he was okay,
Russian or not. Casimir and Ferguson had been carrying on an
animated conversation earlier.
Their attentions were drawn back to the Prince as he prepared
to speak.
The Prince smiled handsomely for the assembled guests and
waved his hands to beg for quiet.
“<I wish to thank all of you for attending tonight’s charity
ball,>” he began. “<I know some of you had better things to do
tonight, but I thank you for remembering me.>”
The crowd began to murmur fond laughter.
“<So at the risk of not boring you to tears->”
Again the crowd laughed. There was a smattering of mirthful
applause. The Prince begged for quiet again with an infectious grin.
“<So at the risk of not boring you to tears I shall keep this
short. Enjoy the evening! Maestro, strike up the band!>”
He waved to the maestro, who raised his baton in salute to
the Prince. The crowd applauded once again, and their voices
echoed throughout the vaulting Grand Ballroom. Akane watched
wide eyed as the music began to play and couples moved out
onto the floor. It was like something out of a romantic dream
for her.
The band began to play Johann Strauss’ “Emperor Waltz.”
Akane tugged at Ranma’s arm.
“Come on!” She said happily to him.
“I was kinda hopin’ you’d wait a bit,” he muttered. “At least
let me watch everyone to get an idea what I’m supposed to do.”
“Just follow my lead,” she said to him. “You’ll learn it in
no time.”
“Easy for you to say.”
“Just think of it as training!”
She pulled him out onto the dance floor.
Nabiki was radiant in her black silken gown. She wore a diadem
that Aerandir was happy to give to her, and which glittered with
all the diamonds she knew it to have. She took Kuno by the arm,
who was smashing in his turn of the century tuxedo. (Another
gift from Aerandir.) His tall height and his martial poise lent
him a statuesque regality.
“Shall we, Kuno-baby?”
“The pleasure is all mine, Nabiki Tendo.”
Kuno was more than willing to prove how acculturated he was.
Particularly upon hearing Ranma’s admission that he didn’t know
how to waltz. With a brief check to ensure his sword was secure
at his side he followed Nabiki out onto the floor.
Aerandir mingled with the guests, renewing old acquaintances
and meeting new additions to families he hadn’t seen in years. He
wore a brilliant saber to match his silvery complexion in contrast
to his black tuxedo, which wasn’t unusual considering half the
men present were so armed. Most of them carried ceremonial
swords, just for dress occasions. Aerandir’s sword was quite real.
He paid his respects to the Prince, who was happy to see him
as usual, and remarked that he should visit more than just once a
year. The Prince jabbed McFogg in the rib as he did so. The
Professor for his part noted his silvery complexion but said
nothing. Doctor Casimir was busy talking to a younger gentleman
about physics.
The Prince was somewhat aware of Aerandir’s nature, but in
keeping with a promise made during the Second World War, kept
his silence about the mariner’s youthful appearance after fifty
years of acquaintance. Aerandir made pleasant small talk for
awhile with him, mindful not to broach any subject that might
reveal his secret. After a bit he excused himself and continued to
mingle.
He was not expecting to run into any of his own kind. So the
sight of Anazali in a ballroom gown and cape came as quite a
surprise. She was similarly surprised to see him.
“I had the feeling there was another one of us here,” she said
as she leaned forward and kissed his cheek. “But I didn’t think it
would be you, Sil Amarn.”
He kissed her in return. “I confess that I didn’t expect to meet
one of us at all, particularly the lovely Anazali.”
“You never pay attention to such things. You spend too much
time alone at sea.”
“At sea, yes. But not alone.”
“Your ghost sailors don’t count,” she observed.
“They would be very upset to hear you say that. There are
those of our kind among them you know.”
She led him out onto the floor. “Dance with me and we’ll talk.”
Akane showed Ranma how to stand and where to put his
hands. She began to slowly walk him through the steps. He
found it wasn’t so tough, as long as he looked at it as training.
When he started to look at Akane and how beautiful she was
in her gown and combined it with the lively yet stately music
of the waltz, he began to get a little excited and just a little
clumsy. She steadied him gently and giggled softly.
“What’s the matter? This too hard for you?”
“You’re distracting me,” he admitted.
She laughed breathily in his ear. “There you go again, Ranma.
Saying all these sweet things has me confused. I’m not used to it
yet.”
“Sorry.”
“No, please keep it up!”
He was starting to figure it out by the end of the “Emperor
Waltz.” The band launched into “Vienna Blood,” also by Strauss,
without pause. Akane let him take the lead, and together they
whirled across the floor.
They met Nabiki and Kuno in the middle of the dance floor,
and the two sisters exchanged happy smiles. Ranma and Kuno
glared at each other, but for the sake of decorum kept it at that.
Akane steered Ranma away, and they danced on.
“Seeing Nabiki dancing with Kuno is a little weird,” Ranma
remarked.
“I don’t know,” Akane replied. “I guess it’s a little strange that
they’re getting along so well. Kuno actually looks kind of happy
with her.”
“Yeah. You’d think he was actually doing it of his own free will.”
“Ranma!” She cried petulantly. “My sister isn’t half as bad as
you make her out to be.”
“How often have you been on the receiving end of her
schemes?” He replied. “But seriously, I think you’re right.
Maybe that time they spent together on the run brought them
closer to each other.”
“Could be. Although that is a little weird in itself.”
“Vienna Blood” faded into a third waltz by Strauss, “Roses from
the South.” Ranma by now had grown comfortable with dancing,
mostly because Akane was always there to keep him on track when
he started to get confused. **We really do work well together,** he
thought suddenly. **And Akane isn’t the klutz she used to be
anymore.**
The waltz ended and the band took a brief rest. The guests
applauded mightily for them and retired to their tables. Ranma
didn’t realize it at first, but he had been dancing with Akane for
thirty minutes without pause.
They returned to their table. The Professor, Doctor Casimir,
and the Prince of Monaco bade the two to join them. A little
shyly, they walked over to the table.
Akane curtsied and Ranma bowed for the Prince.
“<You two look as if you’re having a fine time!>” Rainier said
to them in English.
“<We are, your Highness!>” Akane enthused.
“<Henri is fine,>” the Prince amended gently. “<I am glad I
could meet you. Balthazar has told me so much about you.>”
“<None of it good I assure you,>” McFogg quipped. He puffed
at his pipe as the Prince threw up his hands and berated him good-
naturedly in French for his rudeness.
They chatted with the Prince and with Doctor Casimir for about
forty-five minutes, and Akane found the Prince to be as charismatic
and adorable as the Professor, if somewhat better mannered and
chivalrous. Doctor Casimir was mostly curious about their
experiences with the Professor’s group, but Akane didn’t sense
anything threatening about him. All in all she found that she rather
liked the doctor. Ranma, never much of a conversationalist, decided
to sit back and watch the couples move across the floor.
When the band began to play the lively strains of Tchaikovsky’s
“Capriccio Italien,” Akane was drawn to the dance floor almost by
magnetism. Ranma of course was drawn by Akane’s firm grip.
The Prince laughed so hard at the sight of Ranma struggling in
Akane’s grasp that tears streamed down his face and his men
wondered what could possibly be wrong with him.
“<They are wonderful, Balthazar.>” He managed at last. “<You
have made my whole evening by bringing them.>”
“<Happy to oblige you Henri,>” McFogg said with a puff on his
pipe. “<They are quite infectious, aren’t they?>”
“<I envy you Balthazar,>” Casimir said. “<You really have done
it.>”
The Professor chose his words carefully.
“<Ferguson was telling me some time ago that he wished you
were part of the group,>” McFogg said to his old friend. “<I know
you can help us Grigory, whether we have the Wayfinders or not.
Why don’t you join us?>”
Casimir looked away for a moment.
“<Let me think about it, old friend.>”
“<I’ll give you as long as I can, but you know time is running out.>”
“<Yes Balthazar, I know.>”
He watched the young couple glide out onto the marble floor.
“<It’s just that simple, isn’t it?>”
McFogg and Prince Rainier leaned forward in their chairs.
“<What is, Grigory?>” The Prince asked him.
“<Love.>”
“<Love? What do you mean?>” McFogg asked.
“<It’s their bond, their link... I can feel it in my bones... That’s
why there are two Wayfinders this time.>”
“What is it with you and dancing?” Ranma asked her. “This
ain’t even a waltz!”
“Just follow me,” Akane told him. She turned her back to him,
pressed close against his chest, and set one of his hands on her
stomach as she took the other in hers. Her head seemed to lay
against his shoulder for a moment before she took off across
the floor.
Ranma followed after, trying to stay with the rhythm of the
music for his cues. “Capriccio” was a little too free-flowing for
any such help in that line of thought, and in the end he just tried to
keep up with her. She whispered prompts to him to turn her around
or to dip, and even though they looked a little foolish at times
nobody seemed to mind, and Akane loved every minute of it.
Tchaikovsky’s “Capriccio” ended, and was followed by Maurice
Ravel’s “Valses Nobles et Sentimentales.” It was a waltz, and
Ranma was happy to be back in roughly familiar territory. He
took Akane up into his arms and began to lead.
“That wasn’t so bad,” she said to him.
“I still don’t know why you like this so much.”
“Aren’t you having fun?”
“Well... Just a little I suppose.”
“I’m glad, Ranma.”
Tatewaki Kuno and Nabiki Tendo were dancing a little closer
than they were before. The swordsman was beginning to find that
the woman in his arms was perhaps more than he had thought of
before. Nabiki looked at him fondly, though there was no doe-eyed
worship in those languid orbs. Far from it.
That fact was what perhaps had drawn him closer to her after
all. He appreciated strength and resolve as a martial artist. That was
why he loved Akane and the Pig-Tailed Girl so much. There was
great strength in Nabiki Tendo. Not physical strength, but it
manifested in her indomitable spirit.
**Perhaps he did consider her just a bit more than a friend?**
But if he did, and she was of a similar frame of mind concerning
him, (there were indications that this was so), where did that leave
the other objects of his affections? Nabiki Tendo was not the sort
of person who would brook the divided attentions that he gave to
Akane and the Pig-Tailed Girl.
_If_ she wanted him, she wanted _all_ of him.
It was quite a dilemma for him, and every time he looked into
her eyes his heart quailed for an instant in indecision. **What am I
to do?** He thought to himself. **This cup will not pass from me,
I must choose! Oh the tragedy of it all!**
Nabiki could almost feel the turmoil raging within Tatewaki
Kuno. She was fairly certain that she was one of the principles
involved. Ravel’s “Bolero” began to play, and while it was not a
waltz (it was a ballet), many couples continued to dance to it.
She loved “Bolero,” and stepped in just a little closer to Tatewaki
Kuno as they danced.
Ranma and Akane stayed out on the floor as “Bolero” began.
“It’s not just the music and the dancing,” she said as they
whirled across the floor. “It’s you, Ranma.”
“Huh?”
“You’re such a rock sometimes,” she told him as she stuck her
tongue out at him slightly. “Being with you like this really makes
me feel good. It’s so romantic...” She let her words drift away
softly and looked up into his eyes.
“You mean girl stuff,” he remarked.
Her eyes suddenly crossed in ire.
“But that’s okay,” he was quick to add with a smirk. “’Cause I
do kinda like this. It makes it easy to remember why I feel the way
I do about you.”
The erotic playfulness of the music inspired Nabiki. She had
made up her own mind, even if the man before her struggled on.
She leaned up against him, and his eyes widened in surprise.
“Tate-chan, if you don’t kiss me right this instant I’m going to
scream,” she whispered in a silky voice.
Her invocation of such an intimate pet name for him suddenly
inflamed him. That and the fact that she was quite capable of
carrying out her threat. He took her up into his arms and kissed
her with everything he had. She circled his arms around his neck
and they moved slowly to the music in a deepening embrace.
Ranma had said just right thing, because Akane lay her head
upon his shoulder and gave him a squeeze. The rich strings and
stirring woodwinds swelled around them.
“I love you, Ranma.”
Ranma nuzzled against her sweet smelling hair. “And I love
you, Akane.”
In that moment he knew he had to do it. The time was right
and his heart was open and he knew he could say it. He just
wanted a place a little more private.
Akane gasped in surprise as she saw Nabiki and Kuno kissing
passionately in the middle of the dance floor. Ranma turned to see
what had elicited such a response from her and nearly died of shock
himself.
“Oh-my-God,” Akane breathed.
“I don’t believe it either,” Ranma agreed.
Akane smiled as the two parted and Nabiki’s eye caught hers
for a brief instant. Her older sister winked at her and then turned
back to Kuno.
“Maybe it isn’t so bad after all,” Akane whispered. “Maybe they
_do_ make a good couple.”
Ranma steered her away. “Come on. Let’s go outside for awhile.”
“Oh? What for?”
“I have something to ask you.” He continued on, heart racing as
he took her hand in his. Akane’s pulse quickened as well. She had
an idea what this was about.
He led her off the dance floor. They ran into Hiro who had just
finished dancing with a young Austrian debutante and was feeling
quite worn out. (But very pleased with himself.)
“Hello you two,” Hiro said to them. “You look like you’re going
somewhere.” He gestured to the coat and cape that Ranma was
gathering up from their chairs.
“We’re going to take a walk for awhile. Talk about some things.”
Ranma supplied.
“May I recommend?” Hiro asked.
“Please do!” Akane said sprightly.
“The west end of the Palace is bordered by a nice romantic park,”
he told them. He pointed to a door across the ballroom. “Take that
door and turn right. Go all the way down the hall and you’ll come
out in the park. I’m sure it would be the perfect place to ‘talk about
some things.’” He winked for them.
“Hiro, did anyone tell you that you were absolutely wonderful?”
Akane asked him with a grateful smile.
“Not in the last five minutes,” he grinned.
“Well you’re absolutely wonderful!”
“My pleasure Akane-chan. You kids have fun.”
He got up from his seat to get a little liquid refreshment, winking
once more at them as he did so.
Ranma looked at Akane, who took his hand and led him out.
Aerandir enjoyed dancing with Anazali. He couldn’t remember
the last time they’d been together. Neither could she.
“So tell me why you’re really here,” she said to him in their own
tongue.
“I told you once, dearest. I am a guest of the Prince, and have
been ever since he ascended the throne in ‘49. Perhaps if you
mingled a bit more you’d have seen me at this charity ball one
of those years.”
“I mingle in different circles than you I’m afraid.”
“So I’ve noticed. Now would you mind telling me why you
are here?”
“You know why I’m here.”
“I’d like to hear it from you.”
“I’m looking after a young couple for Nimatar.”
“Their names wouldn’t happen to be Ranma Saotome and
Akane Tendo, would they?”
Anazali gave him a fierce look.
“For someone who makes an effort to avoid the rest of us, you
seem to know a great deal about current events.”
“Rest easy my lady. I know this because I ended up caring for
the sister of Akane Tendo. I learned everything I know from her.”
“So convince me that you’re not about your uncle’s business.”
“I have never supported his irresponsible dreams. You know
this.”
“But you won’t help us stop him either.”
“He is my only family next to a brother who wants little to do
with me.”
Anazali sighed.
“Sil Amarn, when will you realize that you have to put the fate
of this world before your estranged family ties?”
Aerandir was silent a moment.
“Until almost ninety years ago I didn’t think he was serious.
But with the industrialization of the world and population boom
in the last century I think he saw what was coming before any of
the rest of us did. I think it galvanized him into action. When he
failed the first time I thought he had given it up...”
“But he hasn’t,” Anazali said for him.
“No he hasn’t,” Aerandir confirmed. “I saw the Prism in his
Aegean villa. The damned thing survived the blast unscathed.
How many thousands of acres of forest were leveled?”
“Too many,” Anazali replied. “The blast was heard as far
away as London and Beijing. And then there was the death of
Jubal to think of...”
“He was a fool to think he could have stopped it.”
“He _did_ stop it,” she corrected.
“He postponed it,” Aerandir countered. “The Prism, as I said,
is unscathed. And now my uncle will try again.”
“We’re going to stop him.”
“Short of killing him, which I know none of you will do even
if you were strong enough, I don’t see how.”
“That my dear Sil Amarn, is why we have Ranma and Akane.”
“Hello Hiro,” Nabiki said cordially to him. She dangled a dazed
and confused Tatewaki Kuno on her arm.
“Hello Nabiki,” Hiro replied. He wasn’t sure what to make of
Kuno, as he had missed their tender moment.
“Have you seen Akane and Ranma?” She asked him.
“I sent them out into the park,” Hiro replied. “I think they
wanted to be alone for awhile.”
“I guess it can wait,” Nabiki smiled.
Tatewaki Kuno tensed at her arm.
“What is it Tate-chan?” She asked him.
**Tate-chan?** Hiro thought in wonder. **The Kuno I know
would never suffer a pet name like that. Or _any_ pet name for that
matter. These two must be serious.** He looked at Nabiki, who
was quite entrancing in her gown. **Lucky bastard.**
Kuno pointed across the ballroom. A large man with dark
forelocks and an equally dark countenance ducked through a
door. Fyodor.
He reached for his katana.
“Mine eyes beheld the foul and contemptible lackey of our
captor,” he said, and tried to surge forward out of Nabiki’s grasp.
She caught him up and held him fast.
“What?” Nabiki cried. “Here?”
“I would not make such words in jest, Nabiki. Now release
me at once!”
“What’s going on?” Hiro asked.
“The Russians are here!” Nabiki cried. “The same ones who
kidnapped us!”
Hiro reached into his tuxedo jacket. The Sig was there and
ready. “The park! Follow me!”
“Lead the way, Ohata!” Kuno snarled.
Nabiki followed after them.
Doctor Casimir couldn’t believe his eyes. He had just seen the
Ukrainian spy and assassin Fyodor and some of his men through a
crowd of guests. It all became so clear to him.
“<Oh dear God,>” he whispered.
“<What is it?>” McFogg asked.
“<Ranma and Akane are in great danger!>” He said quickly.
“<We must find them at once! Oh Vanya, how I underestimated
your ruthlessness!>”
McFogg looked to Clay and Ferguson who rose to their feet.
“<Where is Hiro?>”
Ferguson pointed across the ballroom to where Hiro, Kuno,
and Nabiki made haste to follow after the Ukrainian.
“<There he goes! Looks like he’s already on to them!>”
“<I think they’re headed for the park,>” Clay added.
Prince Rainier looked away from his conversation with the
French attaché and turned to the scientists.
“<Is something the matter?>”
“<Alert your security force your Highness!>” The Professor
cried in a hushed voice. “<Something terrible may be happening
to Ranma and Akane!>”
The Prince gave quick and discreet orders to his men.
Bodyguards and plainclothes security men began to fan out from
the Ballroom without any of the guests being the wiser.
“<You can inform me along the way,>” the Prince told them
as he and his personal bodyguards joined them in leaving the
Ballroom. Again no one was yet the wiser that anything was
amiss. Once out of the hall the Prince’s men pulled suppressed
Uzis and MP-5s from underneath jackets.
Chapter Five
Hiro was right. The park was the perfect place for what
Ranma had in mind. It was quiet and shady without being too
dark. Trees sighed with the cool summer breeze. The sea air
was crisp and clean smelling, invigorating even. The moon
shone down brightly upon them.
He brushed at Akane’s hair. She seemed to glow from within.
Her eyes glittered and she held him in a loose but loving embrace.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you when we were in Spain,” he began.
“You didn’t hurt me,” she replied.
“Yeah I did. And I’m sorry. I was only thinking about me.”
She leaned close and lay her head against his chest.
“What do you mean?” She asked quietly.
“I shoulda been thinking about _us._”
She looked up at him, remaining quiet, watching him with eyes
that couldn’t have been more loving.
Ranma swallowed hard. Now the butterflies were gathering in
swarms within.
“Hiro told me what you talked about together that night,” he
said, still fighting for the resolve that was so easy to come by until
he actually put himself on the spot. “I just wanted to say that I never
stood by our parents’ arraignment.”
Akane tensed in his embrace.
“If we were to be married, it would have to be an agreement
between you and me. Not between our interfering fathers. Not
some stupid promise that was made when we were just babies.”
Now she looked at him in desperate confusion.
“Our engagement should be between _us,_ Akane.”
Ranma got down on one knee and looked up at her. He held
her hands in his. All at once the butterflies were gone and the knots
in his stomach came undone. That clarity and resolve he had felt
while dancing with her returned. He knew the right thing to do
now, the words he had to say. Nothing mattered more than sharing
what he felt with her right this minute.
Akane’s heart began racing. All the emotions she had flooded
through her at once. Tears welled at her eyes against her will.
This was supposed to be one of the happiest moments of her
life and she was ready to start bawling.
Ranma looked up into her eyes and drew breath to speak.
“Will you marry me, Akane?”
She closed her eyes, still hearing his voice in her heart. Even
when he had confessed his love to her a winter’s night and an
eternity ago she had never felt more joy, more fulfillment than
she did now. The tears spilled down the soft skin of her face
and were caught in tiny crystalline beads of light by the wind,
salty droplets mingling with the seaspray of the Monaco night.
She pulled him to his feet and threw her arms around him. He
gathered her up into a fierce embrace that left their hearts beating
swiftly and in harmony. Her lips brushed against his cheek and
down against the side of his neck. The moisture on her face ran
down upon his in warm streams.
“Of course I’ll marry you,” she cried softly. “You’ve kept
me waiting to hear that long enough.”
He rocked her in his arms.
“I didn’t know if I was going to be able to ask you tonight,”
he whispered. “I don’t have a ring for you right now or anything
like that. But I promise to always love you...I’m just sorry I
couldn’t have done this the right way.”
She laughed in spite of her tears.
“I don’t care about the ring, Ranma. Your promise means
everything to me.”
She gave him a crushing squeeze.
“God I love you so much,” she whispered.
Fyodor knew a tender moment when he saw one. So he let
the lovers have theirs before he acted. As they broke from a
heartbreakingly intimate kiss he gave the signal.
Ranma panted for breath as he moved forward to kiss Akane
again. The icy jet of water that struck him in the face wasn’t enough
to effect his transformation, but seemed to knock him off his feet.
He stumbled off balance and slurred a drunken curse as his world
warped around him.
Akane gasped in fright and alarm as she stumbled back with
growing dizziness. She tried to call Ranma’s name, to warn him
about the darkly dressed men who grabbed at him. Her voice
wouldn’t come.
Ranma saw them and knew instantly that it was the Russians
Nabiki had warned them about. With all of his fighting focus he
lashed out his foot in a roundhouse kick that spun the closest of
them around like a top. The man staggered back choking on blood
and not so surgically extracted teeth.
“Nanosyiet padyez snova!” Fyodor barked. He couldn’t believe
the man was still standing, let alone able to fight.
Another jet of icy liquid splashed across Ranma’s face. The
world crushed down upon him. His knees buckled and the
overwhelming flavor of garlic flooded into his mouth. He saw
Akane laying on the sidewalk through tearing eyes and grit his
teeth against the vertigo to stand.
Another man grappled with him from behind. He reached
over his shoulder, grabbed the man by his ears and flipped him
onto the ground with a guttural snarl. A hand slashed down to the
man’s throat and crushed his larynx.
“Snova!” Fyodor bellowed.
Ranma just dodged clear of the sparkling line of fluid, catching
a bit more across the ear before ripping into another man with a
flurry of blows. The man staggered back breathless. The others
kept their distance, completely amazed.
Ranma stumbled to Akane and tried to pick her up. He couldn’t
tell if she was alive or dead, and doubtless his addled brain wouldn’t
have known the difference. Tears spilled down his face as he fought
the blackness that threatened with all his might.
“SNOVA!” Fyodor yelled a second time.
“Ihzkutcheno! Tabl blyiet padyez!” The man with the DMSO
cocktail bottle protested.
“SNOVA!!!”
The man gave Ranma another jet of the drug.
Ranma sunk to his knees. His brain seemed ready to implode.
The blackness clawed its way into his mind, consuming him. The
sight of Akane lying before him was the last thing he saw before
he slumped over her still form.
“Eto zakon’chyelez,” Fyodor grumbled.
“Uhzye vreemya,” the DMSO man agreed.
A black four door Mercedes pulled up a few yards away.
Fyodor got inside as a man gathered up Ranma’s body. The
others picked up their fallen comrades. The last of them went
to get Akane.
“HOLD, VILLAINS!!!” Tatewaki Kuno cried, his sword
gleaming in the moonlight. Hiro had his Sig Sauer P-220 locked
and loaded in his hand as he leaped over a hedgerow to get to them.
Nabiki followed up behind, directing the Prince’s security men who
lagged far behind with her cries.
The Russians got Ranma’s body inside the car before Hiro
could get a shot or Kuno get close enough to strike. The man
reaching hurriedly for Akane wasn’t so fortunate. He looked up
in time to see Hiro level the Sig at him from a distance of ten yards.
“Don’t you touch her!” He screamed in heartsick rage.
The Sig barked seven times in rapid succession.
Seven .45 caliber 200-grain hydrashoks slammed into the man
as he tried to dodge clear. He was wearing kevlar armor panels
beneath his tuxedo, but two rounds caught him in the armpit and
a third slammed into the side of his skull. What was left of his
head lolled sickeningly onto a bloody shoulder as he fell to his
knees and then pitched over face first with a burbling grunt.
Hiro jacked his spare magazine into the Sig on the run as he
fell over Akane’s body to protect her. Kuno leaped over the
twitching corpse of the fallen Russian and charged the Mercedes.
The gunfire had galvanized the security force into action, and
whistles shrilled and flashlight beams bobbed furiously as men
came at the run.
Fyodor couldn’t believe he was seeing the very same samurai
lunatic he had chased clear across the southern Ukraine now
coming at his car with his sword on high. He would have loved
to have stayed and kill him, but the Prince’s men were almost
on top of them. He barked out stern orders, and a man leaned
out of the window with an AK-74. The Mercedes began to
accelerate away.
“Cowards!” Tatewaki Kuno raged.
“Kuno, look out!” Hiro shouted. He began firing at the Mercedes
to spoil the rifleman’s aim. Orange sparks flashed along the body
panels as his bullets smashed into armor.
The rifleman cut loose with the full magazine. Between the
bucking car and Hiro’s gunfire his burst went wide. Bullets chewed
through trees, sent storms of grass and dirt flying around Kuno,
and a geysered a shower of sparks as the remainder of the burst
ripped into the sidewalk around Nabiki. Kuno kept up the futile
chase until he heard her cry out. Then he spun on his heels and
ran to her side.
The Mercedes sped off into the night.
Nabiki lay on the grass in tears. Kuno lifted her up into his
arms to see if she was hurt. She fell into his embrace sobbing
bitterly.
“Nabiki, art thou injured?” He asked her worriedly.
“No I’m not!” She replied with another halting series of sobs.
“Ranma’s gone!” She fell back into his chest. “Oh Akane...”
Hiro wiped away a tear of his own. He holstered the pistol and
picked up Akane as gently as he could. She was alive, but so
deeply unconscious that he couldn’t rouse her.
“Bastards...” he said bitterly.
Professor McFogg, Clay, Ferguson, Doctor Casimir, Prince
Rainier and his men arrived not a minute later. Anazali and
Aerandir were hot on their heels. The Prince’s men began
searching the area for more intruders. There was only the man
Hiro had shot to death.
Hiro explained to them what had happened. Nabiki was
inconsolate, crying in Kuno’s arms. Akane was being tended to
by EMT trained bodyguards until additional medical help could
arrive. Attempts were being made to seal off the borders, but
Monaco was such a small country that it was more than likely that
the kidnappers were already in France or out to sea.
“<This is an outrage!>” Prince Rainier bellowed. “<There will
be hell to pay for this!>”
“<You can’t do that your Highness,>” Doctor Casimir said
calmly.
“<And why not, Grigory?!>” He shot back angrily.
“<I know who did this your Highness,>” he replied. “<This
was not sanctioned by the Russian Government. It was a private
concern. They will be likely hiding under some diplomatic
umbrella, but if you go into the open with this, they will kill the
boy and deny everything to protect themselves.>”
“<What are you saying, Grigory?>” McFogg asked him.
“<I can find out where they are taking the boy,>” Casimir said.
“<It may be possible to affect a rescue, but only if we don’t make
an official protest of this. As I said, they will kill the boy and deny
everything. Even if we prove them responsible, Ranma will still be
dead... Balthazar, I divorce myself from my organization. I wish
to join yours. I cannot be party to such actions.>”
“<It’s not the way I wanted this to happen, but your support
is welcomed.>” McFogg offered his hand, and Doctor Casimir
shook it firmly.
“<I too pledge whatever support I can offer in this. This
insulting heinous crime goes beyond all bounds.>” The Prince of
Monaco declared. “<It sickens me.>”
Hiro looked up to them. “<If you go after him, you can count
me in.>”
“<Myself as well,>” Kuno declared. “<Tatewaki Kuno repays
his debts.>”
McFogg turned to Ferguson. “<Get Durango over here at once.
I feel we shall need to enlist his services.>”
The assembled party began to make their way slowly and sadly
back to the palace. A kind of numbing cold bit into their hearts
which even in their anger and rage they could not burn away.
Hiro looked to Akane, who was still asleep and tensed for the
blow she would receive when she learned Ranma was gone.
Nabiki was still weeping softly, both for Ranma and for Akane.
Kuno held her close to him, but could not comfort her more than
in the offering of his warmth.
Anazali cast a hateful glance to Aerandir. Even she had shed
tears over the disaster that had befallen them.
“Very clever,” she told him bitterly.
“What are you talking about?”
“Keeping me occupied while your uncle’s lackeys make their
move. Very clever.”
Aerandir glared back at her. “Nothing could be farther from
the truth! I did no such thing!”
“Then I suggest you do everything in your power to get Ranma
Saotome back safe and sound to his fiancée, or you will become
the enemy of us all.”
Aerandir looked away from her.
“Very well...”
**And damn my uncle to hell...**
End of Part Seven
Yes, I am a vicious heartless bastard. I freely admit it.
Author’s notes:
1) Fiddler’s Green is a legendary sailor’s paradise. Think of it as a
mariner’s Shangri La. Most of Aerandir’s crew is from Fiddler’s
Green via Davey Jones’ Locker.
(Speaking of which, are there any crusty Shellbacks out there?)
2) If Rainier III would please excuse the liberties I’ve taken with
him, I would be eternally grateful.
3) I had a great deal of fun writing the Ballroom sequence, and I
hoped you had as much fun reading it. Don’t go getting yourselves
worked up about receiving any invitations to Tatewaki and Nabiki’s
wedding though.
4) I’ve read a lot of ‘fics where Ranma pops the question to Akane
and then gives her the ring that her mother wore. (Courtesy the
always helpful Soun Tendo.) While I think that is a very romantic
notion, I wanted Ranma to ask her with nothing more to give to
her than himself. (Again, don’t expect any invitations to their
wedding either... At least not in _this_ fanfic story.)
5) Yes I had to be a bastard and kidnap Ranma after he proposed.
It could have been worse. I originally planned to have Fyodor attack
just before he can ask, but at just the point where Akane knows
what he’s going to say. (How’s _that_ for mean?)
6) Fear not, Part Eight is underway!
Free The Nukes!
