Ranma 1/2: Shadowrunner
Chapter 3: Reading of a Future Imperfect
By: James "Phoenix" Jones
< > Indicates thoughts.
Dark, foreboding clouds gathered overhead as the motorcycle sped out of the city of Yokohama. Behind the rider, the high-rise towers of steel and glass cast dark outlines against the broken sunrise. Above the towers, the clouds gathered like black demons bent on eclipsing the daybreak even further.
Before him, broken, deserted highways stretched across the desolate landscape that was Japan. In the distance, he could see barely visible silhouettes of pre-awakening structures; long forgotten reminders of a simpler time. Shaking his head slightly, the rider turned his thoughts away from the past and looked toward the future.
Glancing up he saw the first foray of the clouds. It was no contest, the sun was soon swallowed relentless opponent Within the clouds, sparkles of lighting flickered and died in the space of a second, giving the clouds highlights of white energy. In the distance, thunder rolled.
The road before him, like most outlands of the Sixth Age, had deteriorated do to lack of upkeep. Still, that did not mean the road was unused. Quite the contrary, roving gangs, bandits and, occasionally, awakened creatures prowled the ancient roads in search of easy prey. The prospect of coming across
one, or all, of those was a very real possibility, and a very disturbing one.
Squeezing the throttle of the bike, the rider forced it to its maximum speed. He had no intention of running into any opposition if he could help it; especially with the threat of rain so close. With a deep breath, the rider reached out with his mind to see the road ahead. As he did so, he let go of his mind and let his body take care of the road. By his reckoning, he had at least an hour before the storm broke. That being the case, he had plenty of time to reach Hakone; _if_ he was right.
**********
As the storm clouds gathered, the wind blew harder through the open window of the tower, the half-broken movement of air filling the entire office with a haunting, dirge-like melody. Herb stood rigidly before the window, his arms crossed, as the wind caused his long white hair to slowly trail out behind him. It was going to rain again.
<Good.> he thought. <Perhaps it will wash away some of the scum I am about to dispose of.>
Suddenly, the wind began to blow harder, as if to answer an unspoken command. The melody of its movement quickly changed from a low dirge, to a howling wail. All around the office, Herb could hear things rattle as the wind attacked them and his robes molded to his body from the gale force wind.
"You are late," he said, his voice impassive.
"I... I know, s-sir! It's just that...."
"Silence!!!"
The command exploded throughout the room as it reverberated off the walls. The word, spoken with enough anger and contempt to freeze blood shook the room as no wind ever could. Obligingly, the wind died and became silent.
Herb slowly turned from the window to face his prey. In doing so, he caught a glimpse of his face in the reflective glass. Although his shapeshift had not faded, his eyes now glowed red with inhuman light.
<Good,> he thought. <I shall not need to waste mana to make my point.>
Completing the turn, Herb gazed maliciously at the Taro. Squinting his eyes, he allowed the glow to increase, as his eyes buried invisible daggers in his Taro's chest. The desired effect was achieved as Taro took a fearful step back.
"Speak," Herb commanded.
Taro could not speak. He had never seen Herb so angry before. In his mind, Taro could not shake the feeling that Herb was no longer looking at him; it was more like he was looking _through_ him. Finally, after nearly a full minute, Taro managed to speak.
"T- t- the data s- search is complete, s-sir," he said, his voice agonizing over every syllable.
"W- we found a- all the data we could on Nabiki Tendo as of o' ten hundred this morning. T- the data is all being transferred to your monitor as we speak."
"Ten o'clock this morning, eh Taro?" Herb asked, his voice cold and unreadable.
"Y-yes, sir," Taro replied.
"Ten o'clock," Herb repeated. "Let me think... oh yes! I believe that that is exactly three and one half hours _later_ than when I required you to have the data on my desk. You do realize this, of course?"
Taro's mouth suddenly became dry; his nerves frayed beyond any hope of repair. He could feel his mouth moving, but no sound escaped. In the end, he could only nod in response.
Slowly, meticulously, Herb made his way around the desk to stand eye to eye with his security chief. "I am most displeased by this fact, Taro," Herb said. "Most displeased indeed."
"S- sir, I'm sorry! I had all the data collected nearly two hours before you required it; but a decker got into my work station and destroyed it all!" Taro pleaded.
"I am quite aware of that, Taro," Herb replied. "I am also aware that, for nearly fifteen minutes, the decker was sitting quietly right under your nose while you did absolutely nothing!"
"S- s- sir, I can... explain! I...."
Taro's pleading died as Herb's arm shot forward, his hand wrapping around Taro's throat. A moment later, Taro found himself suspended nearly two feet above the floor of the office.
"You imbecile!" Herb screamed. "I entrust you with a simple task and you cannot even complete that! The decker whom so skillfully eluded you is obviously a professional, something I used to believe you were! I see now that my perception of you was wrong."
Taro struggled vainly against Herb's iron grip. Wrapping his hands around Herb's wrist, he tried desperately to pry open the grip. "S- sir... I..." he choked out.
"Had it been a simple, easily discarded project, I may be able to forgive this failure, Taro," said Herb, his voice so low that it was barely audible. "You, however, are well aware that it is impossible to discard _this_ project! I have waited for far too long to accomplish my goals! _Now_ because of your incompetence, the project is out in the open!"
With his free hand, Herb slashed Taro across the face. Herb smiled inwardly as four lines of blood appeared on the man's cheek. Taro gritted against the pain and tried to speak, however, Herb's grip made that impossible.
"I do not know whom that decker was working for, however, I _do_ know that whoever that person may be will benefit handsomely from this project! Not only that, but the project can easily be used to bring this MegaCorporation to its knees!"
"P- please... I' I can't breathe..."
"You have failed me for the last time, Taro!" Herb screamed. "I have tolerated your failures in the past, but this... _this_... I will not forgive!" Finished, Herb reared back and easily sent Taro flying into the wall.
The impact of Taro's body resonated throughout the office. As he hit, Taro could feel several ribs crack as the impact forced the air from his lungs. So strong was the force of the throw that it, literally, held him suspended against the wall for a moment. Slowly, painfully, Taro slid down the wall to fall into a heap at its base.
Gritting his teeth, Taro pushed himself into a standing position; as he did so, every muscle in his body seemed to scream. Ignoring the pain as best he could, Taro shakily faced Herb. Stamina, born out of fear and desperation filled him as he pulled his sidearm from its holster. Connecting the pad in the grip to the smartlink in his palm, he shook his head as he tried to bring the weapon to bare.
"Do you truly believe you can harm me with _that_?"
In answer, Taro pulled the trigger. For a moment, it looked as though the bullet would strike home but, at the last second, Herb raised his hand and neatly caught the bullet between his first and middle fingers. Flipping the bullet around, Herb casually flung it back to its owner. Taro screamed as the shell penetrated his torso.
Distracted by the pain, Taro never saw Herb's attack. Out of nowhere, a ball of bright orange energy slammed into his chest. Taro screamed in agony as he felt his ribs shatter. Falling to his knees, Taro wrapped his arms around his chest as he struggled to breathe through his ruined lungs.
"Pathetic!" Herb screamed.
Reaching down, Herb again took hold of Taro's throat and raised him in one quick motion, eliciting a scream of pain from the struggling man. Herb smiled demonically as he saw the blood flowing over Taro's lips. Angrily, Herb shook Taro left to right, flinging him like a rag doll and making him scream even louder.
Turning, Herb strode lazily toward the window. Upon reaching the it, he punched forward, using Taro's battered body as his fist. Again, Taro screamed as the window shattered, sending shards of glass tearing into his back. Looking down through a haze of pain, he could just barely make out the street, which was nearly forty stories below him.
"I could kill you like this, you know," Herb said, matter-of-factly. "But then, that is far too quick for my tastes."
That said, Herb spun quickly and launched Taro across the office. The body came to rest just in front of the inner door. Herb watched, amused as Taro tried vainly to rise, only to fall to the ground seconds later. After muttering a spell under his breath, Herb smiled inwardly. Through his magically augmented vision, he saw that he had crushed, cracked or shattered nearly every bone in the man's body.
<That felt good,> he thought. <I should do that more often.> Pushing the intercom, he said, "Tell Lime to come to my office. Now!"
"Yes, sir," chimed the speaker.
A moment later, Lime walked through the door, only to stop short as he saw Taro's body lying near the threshold. "Did... I miss something?" He asked comically.
Taking his seat, Herb let a voracious smile cross his face. "Nothing much," Herb replied, in an amused tone.
"What'd he do?" Asked Lime. He lightly kicked Taro's body for emphasis.
"He failed me once too often," Herb replied.
Lime nodded and asked, "What do you want me to do with him?"
"Our main researcher will be returning to the lab on the mainland soon," Herb replied. "Send him there."
Hefting Taro's limp body, Lime flung it unceremoniously onto his shoulder. Turning back to Herb, Lime said, "It'd be kinder to kill him, you know."
Surprised, Herb cocked his eyebrow and asked, "Your point?"
"Don't have one. Just making an observation." Lime answered. "Any messages you want sent along with him?"
"Yes," Herb answered. "Tell them... to be creative."
"You got it," Lime replied, turning to leave.
Herb watched Lime as he left the office. As the door closed, Herb turned back to the window. It seemed a waste of good glass, but he had enjoyed himself. Idly, he made a mental note to have Tsubasa order a replacement. For now though, he reveled in the unhindered airflow of the cold wind. Turning to the monitor, he began to read.
"Well, well, it would appear to be a very thorough job for once," Herb said aloud. "I shall have to ensure that flowers are sent to your funeral. Assuming there will be enough left of you to bury."
On the street, the denizens of Tokyo shivered in almost perfect unison as an insane laughter floated down from on high.
***************
The rider gave a disgusted sigh as he entered the city of Hakone. He had expected it to be a little run down, but what he saw surprised him. Dirty, grime covered streets stretched out from the main highway, only to disappear between ancient, dilapidated buildings on either side. Everywhere, people sat in huddled groups. Some wore the remnants of what may once have been suits, but most wore simple clothing made of patched material.
All around him, refuse lay in either huge heaps or open ditches. The buildings, mostly constructed of old fashioned brickwork, looked as though they would collapse if someone so much as breathed on them. Around the buildings, polluted water ran in tiny streams that formed brown moats around the doomed structures. Despite himself, the rider pitted these people. Of course, he was used to seeing such sites in Yokohama, but this place made his hometown seem a paradise by comparison.
Slowing somewhat to attract less attention, the rider gazed around. Already, the noise from his motorcycle's engine had caused some people to look in his direction. From behind the tinted plastic of his visor, he could see that he was getting numerous stares, all of them unwanted. Taking his hand off the handle, he reached into his jacket and unsnapped the restraint on his weapon.
"You look like a rich little ape."
Snapping his head around, the rider slammed on his break as he found himself facing the speaker. A huge troll blocked the area before him. The metahuman towered over him by nearly four feet and, judging by the scars on its face, it was no stranger to fighting.
"What do you want?" Asked the rider.
The troll stared at him for a moment and began to laugh. Raising one of its huge hands to its eye, the metahuman wiped a half-formed tear away from its pimple covered face. "That's a new one!" It bellowed. "A monkey that talks tough!"
"What do you want?" The rider repeated.
Calming down, the troll said, "For starters, that bike looks nice."
The rider shook his head silently. "Sorry, pal," he said, patting the bike affectionately. "This baby's mine."
"Was yours," said the troll. Reaching behind it, the troll removed his weapon from its housing. Bringing it into view, the rider saw he was facing a heavy piece of pipe, flattened on one side and sharpened. Suddenly, the rider felt a drop of rain hit his hand.
"Damn it!" He screamed. "No time to waste in chit-chat!"
Surprised, the troll stepped back, but immediately regretted the act. Before he could bring the pipe against his opponent, the rider reacted. In a blur of motion, the rider leapt from the bike, sending it to one side on the broken pavement. The troll stared, amazed as the rider attacked him with a speed that no human could possibly produce. In a flash, the rider slammed twelve, almost simultaneous kicks into the troll's chest, causing it to back up even further. A second later, the troll double over as the rider sent a series of punches into it's unprotected solar plexus. Yelping in pain, the troll lost its grip on the pipe, which fell to the ground with a loud clang.
Pressing the advantage, the rider sent another dozen punches across the trolls face. As the metahuman reeled back in pain, the rider raised his hand and moved into a battle stance. To those around the combatants, it seemed that, for an instant, the rider's hand glowed with a pale blue-green light. Suddenly, with a blood chilling battle cry, the rider punched forward into the troll's chest. As it contacted, the light around the rider's fist flowed out into the troll's chest. A moment later, the troll flew away as if struck by a missile. All around the rider, people screamed and scrambled away, fearful of receiving the same wrath.
Looking at the heap that had been his opponent, the rider shook his head in disgust. The beast would live, unfortunately, but his attack would make it thing twice before attacking someone again. Dusting his hands, the rider retrieved his bike and sped off into the city. Already, he could feel the rain sporadically hitting his back. He had no time to waste.
Upon reaching his destination, the rider pulled into a storage unit and dismounted from the bike. As he did so, he let out a _very_ relieved sigh; for once, his luck had been good. Walking the bike further into the unit, he looked around for the owner.
"Hey!" He called. "Anybody home?"
"Yeah?"
Turning sharply, the rider faced the speaker. This time, it turned out to be a dwarf.
"I need to store my ride here for a few days," said the rider.
The dwarf nodded. The rider thought he saw the metahuman smile, but it was difficult to tell with an enormous gray beard blocking the view. "How long?" Asked the dwarf.
"About a week," answered the rider. "Maybe longer."
"Fifty nuyen a day for standard storage," said the dwarf. "One-hundred more per day if you want my guarantee that your ride'll be here when you get back."
The rider nodded, he had expected as much. Reaching into his jacket, he removed three bills from a pocket and handed them to the dwarf. Snatching them absentmindedly, the dwarf looked them over. Immediately, his eyes went wide and his expression became friendly.
"Is there anything else you need, sir?" He asked in an excited voice.
"Just your guarantee that my bike'll be here when I get back," the rider answered. As an afterthought, the rider removed his helmet, revealing his short-cropped, messy hair. Giving the dwarf a toothy smile, he said, "Keep this too."
"You've got it!" The dwarf replied.
The rider laughed. <So it _is_ true,> he thought. <Money really can buy loyalty.>
Opening his umbrella, the rider walked out of the storage unit and into the train station.
*******************
<Not bad for two-hundred nuyen,> he thought. The compartment was small, about six feet from side to side, with another six feet from wall to door. Inside, it held a two comfortable looking chairs, a small table sat under a semi-clean window and a shelf bed filled the upper area on either side of the compartment. The walls, made of artificial wood added a calming feature to the compartment and the entire area smelled of some sort of sort of pine incense. A nice - albeit threadbare - carpet covered the floor and completed the look.
With a loud yawn, Ranma vaulted to the bed and stretched himself out across it. As he did so, he silently panned around for any sign of danger. Of course, he found nothing, which was exactly what he had expected to find.
The decision to take a compartment instead of a single seat had been an unexpected call on his part. He usual traveled by the cheapest means possible, but he had a fair amount of money to spend and decided to travel in relative comfort for once. He shivered slightly at the thought. Ranma had never really cared about comfort and he often wondered why he didn't just slug it out on the street. He knew the answer, of course, as much as he liked walking the streets, they reminded him too much of his past to stay on them for long.
Shifting to one side, Ranma stared at the empty bed and chair opposite him. Upon paying for the compartment, he had been informed that unless he wanted to reserve both sides, he would have to share it with someone else should the need arise. He had considered reserving both sides, but he didn't want to spend the extra nuyen. After a few moments, he mentally justified his decision by telling himself it might be nice to have someone to talk to during the trip.
Rearranging his pillow to better suit him, he tried to relax as he looked out the compartment's window. Outside, the terrain sped by him as if it were being fired from an assault cannon. The effect was hypnotic and he felt his eyelids getting heavy. Looking at his watch, he saw it was just passed eight in the evening.
Hiroshima was almost four-hundred miles away and he figured that, if the train made its usual stops, he would have several hours to catch some sleep. Trusting in his adept ability to sense danger, Ranma pulled the sheet out from beneath him and pulled it over himself. Within a heartbeat, he was asleep.
******
The boy suddenly woke as a siren wailed in the distance. Raising up, he looked around silently. Where was he?
<Oh yeah!> He thought. <We're staying here while dad looks for a job.> Panning around the tiny apartment, he noticed how dark it was and scowled. The only illumination in the room, came from a small window and found its way to the foot of his bed. From that light, he could just make out the only other bed in the room. Rolling over, he prepared to return to slumber when he suddenly realized something. The other bed was empty!
Hoping out of bed, he walked over and ran his small hands over the sheet. It was completely smooth, almost as if it had not been slept in. Hadn't his dad come home yet? The boy tried desperately to recall what was going on, but his sleep fogged mind refused to cooperate. His father had left earlier that night for something, but what?
Looking around, the boy saw nothing else. The only chair in the apartment was also vacant and he couldn't see anyone walking around. Turning back to his own bed, he noticed the form curled up in a tight ball on one side of it. With his augmented hearing, he could just barely make out a very low snore coming from the form.
Unconsciously, he grinned. Ukyou, his best friend, always swore that she didn't snore and he wished he had a tape recorder so he could prove her wrong. Ignoring his thoughts of practical joking, he quietly reached under the bed and retrieved his duffel bag. Opening it, he removed a pair a sweatpants and a white T-shirt. After dressing quickly, he reach back into the bag and retrieved a knife. He didn't like carrying the weapon, but his father always reminded him that Japan wasn't as safe as it had been in the past.
After making sure his friend was asleep, he silently padded to the door and slipped out, locking it behind him without so much as a whisper. Putting on his shoes, he padded down the stairs and out the door.
Immediately, he wondered if he had made the right decision. His father had told both him and Ukyou to stay in the apartment and wait till he returned, but that was hours ago. The street was a dangerous place at night, even more so for children than for adults, because children were easy prey. Steeling himself, he walked down the building steps and moved into the night.
All around him, the low, grim covered towers of the city towered in the night-light. The shadows they cast made the street seem even darker than it actually was and it frightened him. As he moved, he could just imagine horrible monsters leaping out at him from the darkness. In his mind, he recalled his father telling him of a time when monsters had been nothing more than a fantasy for children to play make believe with. Oh, how he wished that was still true!
He was getting worried, his father had been out late before but, even for him, this time was longer than it should have been. All around him, the silent sounds of the night echoed, sending chills down his young spine. Where the hell was his father?
Absentmindedly, his tiny fingers wrapped around the knife that hung at his waist. Looking down, he realized that, on him, the knife looked more like a sword as it reached almost to his knee. What was it that his father did? It was something like a "carrier" or "courier." Something along those lines, but he could never get any more details. <I didn't think people got mail at this time of night,> he thought. Looking around, he found himself in an unfamiliar section of town and, for a moment, he panicked. His father had always told him to stay in places he knew because it was easier to run if you knew all the traps.
Taking a deep breath to calm himself, the boy tightened his grip on the knife and turned around. In his mind, he knew exactly what he would do. He would go home, wake up Ukyou and tell her what was going on. After all, she was always the sensible one, or so his father told her. A plan firmly in mind, he set out for his home... and stopped dead in his tracks.
Behind him, he heard someone laughing. He also heard what sound like something slamming into the ground. Ignoring both his plan and his instinct, the boy turned on his heel and ran toward the sound.
Rounding a corner, he saw a sight that froze his blood. Three men, one wearing what looked like a suit and two others dressed in shabby street clothes, stood over another man who lay in steadily growing pool of blood. The street was dark, and the boy couldn't make out the faces of the men; the scene, however, left little doubt as to what was happening.
Suddenly, the man on the ground spoke, yelling out a pain-choked curse at the others.
"DAD!" Screamed the boy. Abandoning all thought, the boy drew his knife and ran at the three men. Vaguely, he heard his father telling him to run, but he ignored the order. As he reached them, he slashed widely at the nearest opponent.
Laughing maniacally, the man in the suit grabbed the boy's wrist and jerked. The boy yelled in pain as his bone snapped. A moment later, he felt himself being lifted from the ground, only to be held in an iron tight grip. Holding the boy's chin tightly, the man in the suit forced the boy to look at his father.
The boy, frozen by pain and panic, vaguely heard his father speaking but, for some reason, the boy could not understand the words. They were perfectly clear to him, but his father seemed like he was speaking in some foreign tongue. Suddenly, a loud bang echoed through the street. The boy stared, horrified as a hole opened in his father's forehead. The boy screamed as blood flew from the wound to land on his face.
Behind him, all he could hear was the same maniacal laughter.
****************
Ranma jerked upright with a loud scream. Breathing heavily, he scanned his surroundings quickly and, once again, found himself in the train compartment. By heaven, why did he have to have _that_ dream again? Why now?
Taking deep, raspy breaths, Ranma tried to calm himself. The dream had been even more vivid than he remembered it and that puzzled him. For ten years, he'd been having the dream at Random intervals and each time something new was added. The men were the new addition this time. For some reason, Ranma felt he knew them, but he couldn't fathom why.
Shaking his head, Ranma pushed all thoughts of the dream as far from his mind as possible. He hated that dream. Worse still, he had no idea what had brought it on; it had been over a year since he'd last had it!
Finally, as his breathing became steady, Ranma swung off one side of the bunk and dropped to the floor. Raising his wrist, he stared at his watch in shock. The digital readout read eight ten.
<Ten minutes!!!!> He screamed to himself. Shaking his head, he turned to the door and made ready to open it when, suddenly, it opened itself. His mind blanking, Ranma's reflexes took over and he jumped to the far wall of the compartment. Upon landing, he fell into a hard combat stance with one hand closed tightly on the hilt of his knife.
In the doorway, an old woman gasped in surprise. Seeing his mistake, Ranma immediately dropped his combat stance and assumed a more friendly pose. As he did so, he silently slid the knife back into its sheath.
"Are you all right?" He asked.
The woman placed her hand over her chest and took several deep breaths before answering. "Yes, I think so, young man. You just surprised me that's all."
Ranma looked intently at the old woman. She had to be in her late seventies or better and was dressed in a forest green kimono. Long, gray-white hair fell well below her waste and a gnarled staff was held firmly in her withered hands. To her right, an old suitcase lay on the floor.
"Sorry about that, ma'am," Ranma apologized. "Here, let me help you with that."
Walking forward, Ranma reached down and picked up the suitcase. After noting the old woman didn't protest, he hefted it in his arms and placed it in a compartment under the bed he hadn't been using. When he was finished, Ranma turned around and noticed the old woman had taken one of the chairs.
"Thank you, young man," she said. "It's rare to find such manners in young people these days."
Ranma blushed and said nothing. The old woman smiled warmly and motioned to the chair opposite her. Without hesitation, Ranma sat down. As he did so, he studied the old woman intently. His sense danger ability should have alerted him to the old woman's presence whether she intended him harm or not. The fact that it had not worked, made him edgy.
The old woman, seemingly oblivious to his scrutiny smiled. "I just arranged for a cup of tea to be delivered here, young man," she said. "Would you care to join me?"
Thinking it would be good not to arouse any suspicions, Ranma answered, "If it's no trouble."
"No trouble at all," answered the woman. Standing, she walked to the intercom and instructed the person on the other end to bring a second cup of tea when he returned. Sitting back down, she looked at Ranma and said, "I don't believe I was able to introduce myself a moment ago, young man. My name, is Mariko."
"A pleasure to meet you," Ranma stammered. "I'm Ranma, Ranma Saotome."
"A pleasure to meet you, Ranma," she answered.
Leaning back in her chair, Mariko relaxed as she waited for the tea to arrive. She did not have to wait long as a knock sounded from the door less than a moment later. "Come," Mariko ordered.
A young man entered, carrying a tray topped with two small cups and a steaming pitcher. After placing the tray on the table, he bowed and immediately left. As the door slid shut, Mariko reached forward and retrieved her cup. Ranma did likewise.
"You look like something is troubling you, Ranma," she said, after downing the cup.
At this, Ranma jerked his head up in surprise. "W-w-what makes you say that?" he asked lamely.
"When you are as old as I am, you learn to read the faces of those younger than you," she answered. "I was just wondering."
"It's... it's nothing," Ranma answered at length. "Just a bad dream."
"Never say something is just a dream, Ranma," Mariko retorted. "Dreams can be many things, loves, fears, prophesy, even memories."
<Yeah, memories,> thought Ranma. <Memories that are better left buried.>
Noticing that Ranma had not responded, Mariko said, "Sometimes it is easier to talk about things like that with a stranger than with someone close. I am simply willing to lend a friendly ear. That is all."
Reluctantly, Ranma smiled. He didn't know why, but for some reason, he felt he could trust this woman. Leaning back slightly, he recounted the dream to her.
"Hmm..." Mariko said at length. "That is very... interesting. And you say it becomes more vivid each time it occurs?"
Ranma nodded and said, "Yeah, the thing is, I don't know what causes it, it just sort of happens. The man that was killed in it was my dad, I know that for sure. The only thing is, I wasn't there when he died!"
"But, the dream seems to suggest you were," Mariko retorted.
"Yeah, I know, but... well... I don't really remember that. The thing is, I
remember - clearly - waking up one morning with the police at my door, asking my to come down and ID my father's body."
"I see," Mariko responded. "That must have been difficult."
"One of the hardest things I've ever done," Ranma replied.
An awkward moment of silence passed between the two as each absorbed the other's words. Finally, Ranma broke the silence and asked, "So... where you headed?"
Mariko smiled and said, "I may not look it, but I'm Chinese young man. I was just here for a few weeks on... uh... family business. I'm just taking the train down to Nagasaki. I'm scheduled to fly home from there the day after tomorrow."
"Kinda far away, isn't it?" Ranma asked. "I mean, why didn't you just fly out from Tokyo?"
"That would be very easy, to be sure, but I have an old friend in Nagasaki that I haven't seen in ages. While I am in Japan, I thought I would drop in and say hello, that is all."
Ranma nodded and turned to look out the window. It saddened him to see the gargantuan wasteland that Japan had become since the Awakening, but there was nothing he could do about it. In his mind, he longed to see landscape like those described in the old stories his father used to tell him.
"Where are you off too, if you do not mind me asking?"
The question snapped Ranma back to reality and he said, "I'm going to Hiroshima."
"Business or pleasure?"
Ranma grinned sheepishly. "A little of both, I guess," he answered at length.
Mariko nodded and said nothing. Standing, she walked to the compartment Ranma had stowed her bag in and upon opening it, began to search for something. A moment later, she brought out a small package wrapped in sapphire blue silk. Unwrapping the silk, revealed deck of cards.
"What are those?" Ranma asked.
"They are called Tarot cards, Ranma," Mariko answered. "People use them to predict the future and I use them to pass the time on long trips."
Ranma looked at her skeptically. As an adept he had, of course, heard of Tarot cards, but he had never heard of them being used in Japan or China before. His curiosity sparked, he asked, "What exactly do they do?"
Smiling, Mariko began to shuffle the cards expertly. "You ask a question and the cards give you a little insight. That is all. Either that, or you simply lay the cards out and see what they say."
"Neat," Ranma said, unsure of how to respond.
"Would you like me to read them for you?" Mariko asked.
Ranma thought for a moment and said, "Sounds interesting. Okay, go ahead."
"Are there any specific questions you would like answered?"
"No, not really."
Mariko nodded and handed the deck to Ranma. "How old are you?" She asked.
"Nineteen."
"Then take any nineteen cards you like and turn them one-hundred and eighty degrees. After that, place them back in the deck and hand it back to me."
Ranma did as he was instructed and, after selecting his cards, handed the deck back to Mariko. Immediately, the old woman shuffled the cards; once, twice, nineteen times in what seemed like the space of a second.
A moment later, Mariko laid out ten cards in a pattern that resembled a cross and staff. "This is called the Celtic Cross," she explained. "It is one of the most ancient techniques of reading the cards and one of the simplest. Shall we begin?"
Ranma nodded as Mariko slowly reached toward the cards. Selecting the card in the center of the cross, she slowly turned it over. Taking back her hand, she scowled. The card revealed depicted a man laying in a wasteland with ten swords piercing his back.
"Ten of Swords," Mariko said. "It would seem that much of your life has been filled with pain and hardships."
Ranma snapped back in surprise. The card was dead on. Trying not to dwell on the subject, he pointed the card laying beneath the ten and said, "Uh... never mind that. What's that one?"
"Let us find out," Mariko replied. Turning over the indicated card, she revealed a wheel surrounded by five mythological beasts. "The Wheel of Fortune," she said. "Even though you have been plagued by pain, you have still had some good fortune in your life. For a time, I believe you may have even been happy."
Reaching to the bottom point of the cross, Mariko again turned the card. This time, the card depicted men, women and children raising there arms to the sky while an Angel played its flute above them. "Judgment. Hmm... so, sometime in your past, you have experienced an enlightenment of some sort. Tell me Ranma, are you by chance a mage?"
Shaking his head, Ranma stammered, "Um... I'm just an adept, you know, somebody who is a mage, but who isn't a mage."
"I see," Mariko replied. "Shall we continue?"
"Sure."
Moving her hand to the left point of the cross, Mariko turned over the card. This time, she revealed a man dressed in a black cloak whom seemed to stare forlornly into the ground. Around him, lay five overturned goblets. "Five of Cups," Mariko said. "Sometime in the past, you've experience a great disappointment. But that it is slowly moving away from your life."
Without waiting for a response, Mariko turned over the top of the cross. The bright visage of the sun greeted her. "The Sun," she said. "So... happiness may still be yours."
Turning to the last point of the cross, Mariko lifted the final card. On the card, a man dressed in merchants garb supported himself on three staves while staring over the ocean. "Three of wands," Mariko announced. "Interesting. Sometime in the future something you have always dreamed of will be realized. My, my... you certainly have an interesting life my young friend."
Ranma, unsure of what to say stared at the cards in shock. He'd been to fairs as a child and had had his fortune told like all the other children. This, however, was fast causing him to become more of a believer in prophesy and magical knickknacks. "Uh... um... er..." he stammered. "What about that?" To accentuate the point, he pointed at the four unturned cards resting in a vertical line.
"The staff shows something about yourself and what turn your life may take," said Mariko. "I can continue if you wish."
"Please!" Ranma said, almost shouting. He couldn't believe how close the cards where hitting on his past and he was anxious to see what else the said.
"Very well then."
Reaching to the bottom of the staff, Mariko again turned the card. This time, a picture of two young woman surrounded by a canopy of leaves supported on four wands greeted the pair. The only difference was that the card seemed to be upside-down. "Four of wands... reversed," Mariko said coldly. "You fear getting close to anyone?"
Ranma started at the question. <I'm not afraid of anything!> He thought angrily. <Or... am I?>
Shaking her head, Mariko moved up the staff and turned over the next card. This time, a window composed of five circles adorned with pentacles came into view. "Five of Pentacles," Mariko said. "It would seem that others tend to see you as a loner."
Taking the next card, Mariko turned it before Ranma could speak. A soldier, carrying six staves and riding atop a white horse appeared. "Six of Wands," Mariko announced with a grin. "So, you are hoping for victory against something."
"I...uh... that is...," Ranma stammered.
"Last one," Mariko announced as she turned the last card. Upon doing so, her visage fell noticeably. On the card a man looked toward the horizon as he held three swords in his arm while two more lay at his feet, like the Four of Wands, it seemed be upside-down. "Five of Swords... reversed," Mariko announced ruefully. "So... something will not be as it seems."
Looking at the cards, Ranma felt confused. Up until Mariko had looked at the cards composing "the staff" he had been intrigued; now, though, he wasn't so sure. Unable to think of anything else, he asked, "So... uh... what does that mean?"
Without answering, Mariko removed the cards from the table and began to sort through the deck. As she did so, Ranma could see her removing the reversed cards and turning them right-side up. He was about the repeat his question when Mariko suddenly spoke. "This is most strange, Ranma," she said, I do not believe I have ever seen such a contradictory reading."
"Huh?"
"Tarot cards are somewhat like a book, Ranma. They tell a story; however, the story is not set in stone, it changes as the person whom the cards look at changes. The story they are telling me is... confusing, to say the least. Perhaps, it would make more sense, if you told me a little more about yourself."
"I... can't," Ranma said at length. "I... that is... um..."
"You are a Shadowrunner, correct?"
"How did you...?"
Mariko raised her hand and said, "I need know no more than that. This is what the cards are telling me, if you are willing to hear it." Mariko paused as she placed the cards back on the table. "Remember, I will ask you for no information that you are not willing to give. I am not a mind reader, however, should I stumble across something that hits a nerve, I am sorry.
"Tell me," Ranma commanded.
"Your past has been filled with troubles. Perhaps you lost your mother at a young age or perhaps you never knew her. Later, you lost your father. In spite of that trouble, you managed to find and maintain a few fast friendships that may or may not have endured to this date. That is what the Ten of Swords and the Wheel of Fortune say. In your past, you where slowly awakened to your adept abilities, perhaps you undertook a journey of discovery, or perhaps you are the relative of a priest who has prayed for you. That was what Judgment said. The Five of cups tells me that you have had a tragic event happen recently that you are just now able to put behind you. Perhaps a friend betrayed you, or perhaps they where killed; I do not know and I do not wish to know. As to the Sun, that means that sometime soon, you shall attain your happiness, or perhaps you shall meet a new friend. The Three of Wands reinforces the meaning of the Sun."
Ranma stared at her in shock as she paused to breath. So far, her telling of his past had been fairly accurate and the knowledge was unnerving. Quickly, Ranma returned to attention as she began to speak again.
"The staff, however, perplexes me somewhat. The Four of Wands is generally perceived to be a well meaning card, however, to have it reversed and in the position it appeared in; it tells me that sometime in your past, you experienced a short-lived romance that somehow fell to pieces. Because of that, you are afraid to allow yourself to love again. The Five of pentacles reinforces this; it is generally associated with loneliness and it would seem that most other people see you as a somewhat lonely individual. I know I do."
Ranma noticed that the last few words where added with a touch of sympathy and he smiled gloomily. Although he hated to admit it, the old woman had been right on target. "What about the last two?" He asked at length.
"The Six of Wands says that you are reaching for something, but that you are somewhat unsure of what it is. The card, however, is symbolic of victory and that reinforces the last two cards of the cross. The Five of Swords, however, seems to cancel all of what has been suggested such far."
"Why?"
"The Five of Swords is associated with pain, failure and cruelty. To have it reversed, however, is even worse. For it to fall as such, means that you shall achieve your victory, but that the victory will be shallow."
As Mariko fell silent, Ranma leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms, absorbing the words. As an adept, he of course believed in magic, but this was something far beyond his comprehension. How could he be striving to a goal if he didn't even know what that goal was? If he didn't know what it was, did it really exist? And what about the shallow victory bit? The cards seemed to describe him fairly well, but he had a sneaking suspicion that the old woman was making much of her story up as she went along. Still, to have her guess so closely was unnerving. Finally, he asked, "So... what exactly does that mean?"
Mariko rubbed her chin in thought and said, "I am not certain. My advice to you would be to accept your past and move on; memories are precious, even if they are cold and cruel. As you move forward, however, I suggest that you look for things to become good and bad at the same time. Embrace the good nature of what has been revealed, but always take into account that things are not always what they seem."
Ranma nodded and stood slowly. "Well... uh... thanks a lot for the insight," he said lamely. "I'm gonna go and get something to eat. You want something?"
"No," Mariko replied. "Thank you very much though. I think I'll just stay her and get some sleep. However, it has been a pleasure talking to you; and don't put _too_ much stock in the cards. Unless I do another reading that comes up with the exact same spread, nothing is engraved in stone."
"Um...yeah... thanks," Ranma stammered. "Well... bye!"
"Farewell," Mariko replied.
As Ranma left the compartment, Mariko turned to the cards atop the table. Reaching out, she removed the top card and slowly turned it to face her. The sight that greeted her made her smile demonically. On the card, the three phases of the moon glowed brightly before her. Beneath the moon, two dogs howled.
"Illusion," she said coldly. "How appropriate."
*****************************
"Yes?"
"Sir, there is someone on line one who wishes to speak to you."
"Who is it?"
"They did not give their name, but they said it was important."
Herb sighed loudly and turned back to the desk. He was just beginning to relax to the sound of the rain and, as usual, something interrupted him.
<This had _better_ be important!> He thought. "Yes?" He asked as he lifted the phone receiver.
Immediately, his visage softened. "Ah... greetings old friend. May I ask what you require this time?"
On the other end of the line, Herb could hear a slight chuckle and he smiled.
"There is someone on the train with me who is after the same query you are after."
At this, Herb felt his features harden. "Who!?" He shouted.
"I cannot give out a name, you know that much," replied the speaker. "However, I can tell you that he is a shadowrunner and, as near as I can tell, a very good one. He doesn't realize that he is in danger though. Nor, does he know exactly what he is after."
"How did you ascertain this information may I ask?"
A low chuckle escaped from the line and Herb grimaced. "This is no time for comedy!" He shouted.
"Forgive me, it is just that, as a dragon, you should know these things," the speaker said. "Analyzing the truth is easy, especially when the query is distracted by something else."
"Where is he going?"
"Hiroshima, of course."
"I see...," Herb replied. "What is the next stop on that train?"
"Shizuoka," the speaker replied.
"Does he suspect you?"
"No, of course not. You should know I have more skill than that," replied the speaker. "Unfortunately, I am disappointed in him, as an adept, he should have at least _sensed_ me using magic. Ah well, that is life I suppose."
"Very good."
"Would you like me to eliminate him?"
"No," Herb replied. "I shall simply have someone board the train at Shizuoka and eliminate him then. You continue to China; our research lab there has missed you terribly."
"I trust you have some more suitable subjects for me this time."
"But of course old friend," Herb retorted. "Only the best for you, Mariko."
"Stop that or you will make me blush," Mariko replied with a laugh.
"I doubt that!" Herb replied. "By the way, I too shall be returning to China soon. Make sure you have the new specimens ready before I arrive."
"Of course. Until we meet again, old friend."
"Until then, Mariko," Herb said, "or, should I say 'Cologne?'"
"Cologne... will be fine."
With that, Herb hung up the phone and pressed the intercom. "Miss Kurenai, punch up the list of shadowrunners in Shizuoka."
For a moment, the speaker was silent, then Tsubasa replied, "We do not have any shadowrunners in Shizuoka that are on our payroll."
"Then find some!" Herb commanded.
"Of course," Tsubasa chimed. "How long do I have."
Raising his arm, Herb looked calmly at his watch. "Twenty-five minutes," he replied.
"Very well."
Satisfied that a threat was about to be eliminated, Herb turned back to the window to watch the rain. Suddenly, a thought struck him. Turning to the intercom, he pressed the button and said, "Oh... and, Miss Kurenai..."
"Yes?"
"Make sure that it is someone expendable."
************************************* End Chapter 3?
Big thanks to Joseph Kohle and Francis Gilbert for being my pre-readers and for prodding me to get this done!
***BEGIN DISCLAIMER***
--All Ranma 1/2 characters are property of Rumiko Takahashi and the company that published them.
--Shadowrun (an excellent game BTW) and all of its related, slang, equipment, races, etc. are the property of the FASA Corporation
--All of the above are used _WITHOUT_ permission. No copyright infringement is intended.
--Any other names that appear in this fanfic are made up and belong to no one in particular.
***END DISCLAIMER***
AUTHOR'S NOTES
I realize that this story is progressing slowly, but I want to do a lot character development. All I can say is that, if you where expecting a lot of action, please bare with me. I'll have some in future chapters and it should make up for lost time. However, like I said, I'm trying to emphasize the story and not the shot 'em up action of Shadowrun.
This chapter is basically a bridge that will be used to introduce some characters in the next chapter and to (perhaps) do some foreshadowing of future chapters. That was what all the Tarot cards reading was about.
BTW, for those of you how may not know, Tarot cards are a special type of playing card that is used to tell fortunes and the like. The Tarot deck is composed of 78 cards and is used by a lot of people. All of the meanings given for the named cards are the real meanings given in "A Complete Guide to the Tarot" by Eden Gray. The spread called the "Celtic Cross" is also a real spread and is widely used by people who use Tarot cards.
I WANT TO STRESS THAT I DO NOT MEAN TO INSULT ANYONE'S RELIGIOUS BELIEFS BY INCLUDING THIS TAROT CARD SCENE IN THIS CHAPTER!!!! I BELIEVE THAT TAROT CARDS ARE A WAY TO GAIN A LITTLE BIT OF INSIGHT INTO SOMETHING, BUT THAT THEY ARE NOT TO BE TAKEN TOO SERIOUSLY! I WOULD ALSO LIKE TO STRESS THAT BY INCLUDING THIS SCENE, I AM NOT SANCTIONING BELIEF IN THE OCCULT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
IF I HAVE OFFENDED ANYONE, I AM SORRY!
Thank you for reading and I hope you're enjoying the story thus far. I hope to have the next part out sometime soon. C&C will be greatly appreciated, but please limit it to story content or the story itself. Please do _not_ comment on grammar or spelling. Also, if you feel the need to comment on anyone being OOC, you may do so, but please bare in mind this qualifies as an "Elseworlds."
NOTE: For anyone who plays Shadowrun, if you are interested, I've got a character sheet made up for most of the main characters in this story. If you'd like a copy, e-mail me and I'll send you one.
Thanks again.