First of all:
DOOMO GOMENASAI to all for being so late with this--I'd meant to post
it last Saturday, but unforseen circumstances have kept me away from yon
beloved Mac until today. Which means I've no doubt got eight skillion
e-mails to answer--*groan*--I shudder to look.
Anyway, on with Part 2 of Ye Magnum Opus:
Ranma 1/2--Abort, Retry, Escape pt. 2
by
Paul Herring & Kenny Blackwell
------------------------------------------------------------------
Ranma 1/2 is & 1997 Rumiko Takahashi/Shogakukan, Inc. Used
without permission; this fanfic is NOT intended to be resold or
used for profit in any way, shape or form. The Clan Justice, The
Tribunal, The Threat, and The Chronomancers are & 1997 Kenny
Blackwell. Any other characters are & their respective owners.
------------------------------------------------------------------
"The great essentials of Happiness are something
to do, something to love and something to hope for."
--Anonymous
FALL, 1997:
The wheels of the big '97 Ford Crown Victoria bit into the
pavement like the jaws of a lion sinking it's teeth into a zebra,
its Shizuma drive whisper quiet in the wind. The light of the
setting sun shone off of the crome of the bumpers and tail fins.
Genma was at the wheel, his wraparoud mirror shades reflecting
the endless ribbon of US 87 as he approached Lubbock, Texas. The
DVD audio system was cranked, and playing the last verse of
". . .Plastic Jesus,
Plastic Jesus
Ridin' on the dashbord of my car
once His robes were snowy white
Now they're not quite so bright--
they're stained by the smoke
of my cigar. . ."
From off of the Jello Biafra/Mojo Nixon disk "Praire Home
Invasion." It was one of his favorite tunes, next to anything by
Wille Nelson.
Up ahead, he could see his house coming into focus like a
giant blue/white mirage of a dude ranch fused with the palace
at Versailles. About six years ago Genma had brought about 200
acres of land outside the city for his mansion, his art nuveau
dream house. It had just been finished the previous year,
and he and the wife and kids had moved in immediately. Total cost
of the building alone--not counting the fountains in the gardens
outside with their solid gold statues, the ranch which bred prime
race horses and the servent's quarters--was no less then seventy
five million dollars. As that was only about 1/4 of what Genma
made every year, and had been making for over a decade now, he
could more then afford it.
Genma switched on the radio.
"--bill narrowly passed the House, but still faces an uphill
battle in the Senate. In business news, Panda Electric stock shot
upward 6.5 percent today after it's President Genma Saotome
announced the release of the long-awaited 800 Ghz 'Yatsura'
processor. The new chip, which will be installed in all new
Panda machines, appears to be the final nail in the coffin for
Intel, which shut down it's last plant this morning even as it
filed for Chapter 11 bankruptcy protection. . ."
"YEEEEEEE-HAA!!" howled Genma in triumph as he turned onto
the private road leading to his house. He'd always hated Intel
with their lame-ass processors WHICH COULDN'T DO DECENT GRAPHICS
IF YOU PAID THEM, MUCH LESS MATH <^_~>, and he was pleased that
today marked the bitter end of one of his main business rivals.
Now, all that was left among his hardware rivals was Atari,
who's limp computer line with it's Motorola 680x0 processors was
secretly propped up by Panda itself, as a means of keeping
Justice Department antitrust lawyers off their backs.
<Not bad,> he thought, <not bad at all. I think I've done
pretty well for myself over the past. . .lord, what is it? 20
years? God, how the time flies. . .> he glanced at himself in
the rearview, <. . even if I don't show it>.
Two decades ago, after he awakened in that hospital, he'd
spent the first week doing nothing but thinking. Thinking about
his life, and what he wanted to do with it. As soon as he was
discharged, he applied for admission to as many Universities
as he could. His grades from high school were barely good
enough to gain him admission to one of the low-end colleges
in Tokyo. Once there, he took remedial classes in all of the
subjects that he had been weak on in high school and studied
ferociously, shunning any sort of a personal life at all until
he had gained top marks. Math was his special demon. He had
never liked math when he was at Takahashi Central, and his
skills in that area were nominal at best. Now he went at it
with what can only be described as a messianic fervor. In
three years he went from basic math to calculus, getting
100% on all of his test scores. When once he only scored a
98% on one such exam, he was so ashamed that he didn't show
his face for two days.
His professors were convinced that they had a prodigy
on their hands. When he applied for a math scholarship to
Harvard University in America, they fell all over themselves
writing him recommendations. The circle of friends he now ran
with, whom in the U.S. would be considered "nerds," were
envious and proud that he was one of their number. But his
parents were uneasy.
In truth, they couldn't figure out what had come over
their only son. Happy they were about his newfound academic
prowess, to an extent, but they were shocked and dismyed
by his decision to abandon martial arts forever. "Why?"
they asked him, but he couldn't fully explain; all they got
from him was a deep-seated feeling that he wanted to do
something vast and profound with his life, and that martial
arts couldn't be a part of it. Nor could any kind of love
life.
Genma avoided dating altogether--if marrying that Nodoka
creature would have been the catalyst that spawned The
Antichrist, then who knew what would happen if he showed
an interest in some other girl? Thus he smothered his libido
and focused only on honing his intellect.
After awhile, however, the constant sexual depravation
started to induce a kind of hysteria. He began to have visions
of Einstein and Babbage, and to do things like take ice cold
showers every other day, even in the dead of winter, flog himself
occasionally with a cat-'o-nine-tails to drive out "evil thoughts,"
and to peruse religious texts.
The dreams had long since stopped, but their memory
haunted him. He was convinced now that they had been messages
from God Himself, and he hungerd for insight, for some
sort of further divine direction. So, when he wasn't
studying higher math, whipping himself or meditating, he was
reading: four different versions of the Bible, the Talmud,
the Bhagavad-Gita as well as the entire Mahabharata, the
writings of the great Shinto masters, the works of Bahaullah,
even tracts by the Jehovah's Witnesses. But nothing seemed
to fill the void--or end the fear.
It was during one such quest, in the early morning
hours in the back of the Harvard main library that he by
accident knocked over a thick tome while reaching for
something else. It landed on it's spine and opened up, and
the first thing Genma's eyes alighted on as he reached down
to grab it were the words
1. There surely came over man a period
of time when he was a thing not worth
mentioning.
2. Surely We have created man from a
small life-germ uniting (itself): We mean to
try him, so We have made him hearing,
seeing.
3. Surely We have shown him the way:
he may be thankful or unthankful.
4. Surely We have prepared for the
unbelievers chains and shackles and a
burning fire.
5. Surely the righteous shall drink of a
cup the admixture of which is camphor,
6. A fountain from which the servants of
Allah shall drink; they make it to flow a
(goodly) flowing forth.
It was a Sign, he was sure. Actually it was only
Sura LXXVI, in a copy of the Holy Qur'an, but with it's
statement about being "tried" and "shown The Way" it was
good enough for him. Two weeks later, Saotome Genma had
converted to Islam. For the first time, he felt within
his soul complete peace.
Even before his transfer to America, Genma's love of
math was already mutating into a love of all things computer.
He took classes in electronics and engineering and during one
experament inadvertantly erased all the data on Harvard's
mainframe. But he made up for it the following year when he
designed Wordsmith 1.0, one of the world's first word
processing programs. Compact yet very powerful, it was part
of the software package included on the IBM PC, and was a hit
in the business community. Subsiquent upgrades flew off of
the shelves, along with CalcSheet 1.0.1, his spread sheet
program. This was in 1980. Five years later he'd received
his U.S. citizenship, had graduated Magna Cume Laude with
a Master's Degree in computer science and was, at age 28,
worth one hundred million dollars.
It was at about this time that he met his future wife.
The huge, ornimental gates with their silver
"110010011011" motif opened wide as the Ford pulled into
the main driveway. The gold spikes on the spearheads reflected
off of the big car's shiny surface. As he entered the garage,
cut the engine and stepped out, he wondered where his wife
was--<probably in that lab of hers,> he thought.
"Daddy! Daddy!!" Genma turned and kneeled as a mass
of pink hair, lace and blue silk ribbons rushed into his arms.
It was his youngest daughter, Irene Saotome.
"Well hi there, little munchkin," he said, hugging her.
"How was school today?"
She planted a kiss on his cheek as he started to carry
her inside. "Great, Daddy. Me and Marie Curie got A's on the
test!"
"That wonderful, Irene!" replied Genma. "I'm proud of
yo'!" He walked out of the garage and went along the gravel
walkway towards the Great House. "Sweet," he went on,
"where's yo' mommy?"
"Oh, she's in the lab, last time I checked," she replied.
"Not anymore, dear. I'm done for the day." Saotome Washuu
stood in the doorway leading to the parlor, already removing her
lab coat and gloves. He kissed her as he passed inside, then set
little Irene down to scamper over to her older sister Marie Curie.
The later immediatley noogied her, as big sister's are sometimes
wont to do.
"Baby." He tousled Washuu's scarlet, fiddler-crab hairstlye.
She was wearing her 12-year old body again, and he shut the door
as she hugged him. <Some of the newer servants are gonna get some
weird ideas about this,> he thought with a grin.
"I trust your day went well," said Washuu as they strolled
down the hall.
"Sho'ly did, sho'ly," Genma beamed. "I trust you heard. . ?"
He grinned at her nod. "Intel is dog meat," he continued. "It all
mine, now, 'ceptin' fo' the rump we allow Atari. Why, Big Bill
hisself called me up today from Redmond to offah his congrats.
Small wonder, since we gon' put Office '98 on all the new Pandas
nex' year." Though he and Gates were longtime software rivals,
they still knew how to work together when it suited them.
"The Yatsura Processor will earn big profits for everyone
working in Panda Electric," she agreed. "I'm happy for you. You've
done much and helped out everyone as best you could."
"Well, it's not like ah did it *all* by myself," he winked.
Washu smiled. "Dahling. . .you remember how we first met?"
"Well, ah *should*," he replied. "After all, you were the
one who proposed to me, as I recall."
"If you call trying to use you as a guinea pig
proposing. . ."
* * * * *
NOVEMBER 1985:
His eyes fluttered open slowly. The first thing he noticed was
that he was hanging in mid-air.
<What. . .?>
He was in some kind of room, he saw--a large one, dimly lighted
except for where he was. Bright florecent lights bathed him in white
from above. There appeared to be no furnature anywhere in evidence,
but in the distance Genma could make out some tall tubes of frosted
glass. He couldn't tell what they were for, but behind the ice crystals
he could see shadowy figures inside. There was a light breeze on his
body from an air circulating system, and he realized to his acute
emberrasment that he was stark naked, trussed up with metallic cables
to some kind of an X-frame.
<Kidnapped,> he thought with dismay. <Damn, I always knew that
this was a possibility, rich as I am>. He could imagine the ransom that
they would hold him for. <If I live through this, I'm hiring bodyguards>.
Abruptly he was aware of someone watching him.
It was a girl, young, about 11 or 12, with a huge mane of flaming
red hair and wide blue eyes. She was waring a complex tan and gold
garment of unusual design.
"I'm sure your parents wouldn't want you to see this, child," said
Genma.
"I'm not a child," she said with a smile. "I am Hakubi Washuu, THE
number one genius scientist in the universe--well, *my* universe, at
any rate. And I've chosen you, Saotome Genma, because you intrigue me!"
Genma literally did not know how to respond to this, so he said
nothing.
"I know, I know," Washuu nodded, "It's hard to believe. Most are
incredulous when they enter my presence for the first time, but I soon
persuade them of the. . .reality of the situation." For a bare second,
her smile became nothing short of demonic.
<Practical joke?> wondered Genma. <I bet that spud Jobs. . .no.
Even he wouldn't go this far.> He strained a bit against the bonds.
<No, this nut means business, whoever she is.>
"I come to you from another dimension, Genma," she continued,
"because your activities in this timeline have set off certain
alarms on my temporal monitoring bord. You lead a very strange life,
Saotome-san."
"What are you talking about?!" he demanded, still struggling.
"Who are you?"
"I *told* you," she replied. "And as to your life. . .when I
arrived here about a year ago, I started observing you, Saotome-san.
As part of that observation, I looked into your past: your upbringing,
your parents, etc. What I found intrigued me." She stared off into the
distance, stroking her chin with her hand.
"According to my estimates," she said, "the life you are leading
is violating all of the laws of probability. Up until age 18, your
behavior and life choices made perfect sense in light of how you were
raised, your socioeconomic status, your level of education, etc. After
that, they didn't--suddenly and for no apparent reason you developed
a mania for self-improvement and started making decisions for which
there was no indecation in your previous behavior."
"Well, who are you, the lifestyle police?!" asked Genma.
"What business is it of yours what I do? Lot's of people change
their lives dramatically for one reason or another." <Not the least
of whom is The Prophet himself,> he thought, <when he had the visions
in the desert.>
"Yes, but not for *no* reason, and it doesn't set off temporal
alarms from here to the 8th Dimension," retorted Washuu. "Why, even
Dr. Who took an interest, and if I hadn't snuck abord and. . .
*modified* the computer on his TARDIS--"
--Somewhere in the Jurassic period, a T-Rex burped contentedly
while pulling twenty feet of scarf out from between his teeth--
"--he would have arrived here before I did. As it is," she
gave that evil grin again, "I got to you first."
"So. . .what exactly do you want with me?" ventured Genma.
This all seemed so insane.
"To run some tests," she replied, slipping out of his view
for a moment. "Don't worry, Genma-san. I'm just going to get a
bunch of samples, that's all."
"Why?"
She glanced at him as if he were crazy. "I'm an alien! It's
what I *do*!"
Washu turned around and happily skipped to a tray table,
laughing maniacally as she started digging through her operating
instruments.
<This chick is deranged!> thought Genma. <I've got to find a way
out of this.> Allah did not set him on The True Path just so he could
wind up as Marvin the Martian's lab rat. But how. . ?
<Allah gave you a mind,> he told himself fiercly, <use it.>
Genma looked at the tentacle-like cables, studying how they held
him.
<This. . .reminds me of something. . .> Suddenly, it hit him.
<Hmmmm. . .similar to the "puppet grip" hold in my old martial
arts training,> he realized. <I know how to break that one! Let's
see, it was-->
"Lucy, I'm home!!"
Genma turned. Washu was dressed in a skintight nurse's outfit
which left little to the imagination. Eyes shining, she giggled
demonically as she snapped on the latex gloves. "It's me, Washuu!
The angel of mercy!!"
Genma's eyes roamed over Washuu's nubile body. Despite himself,
he suddenly began to develop an enormous erection. He stared at it
in horror.
"Wooo, I notice you're happy to see me, too!" Washuu stepped forward
and touched the bulbous head with the tip of one finger. "I may just
start with this!"
Genma fought as much to keep from ejaculating as to break free from
the cables while Washuu caressed him, smiling slyly.
"I do so love it when they struggle," she said. "When I start,
Genma-san, please feel free to scream or cry, whatever makes you feel
better."
<If you don't stop touching me I'm gonna do a lot more then just
that,> thought Genma.
Washuu's eyes bugged with astonishment as Genma suddenly managed to
get both arms free simultaneously. Seconds later, he pulled his legs loose,
dropped to the ground and ran like hell.
"I. . .impossible!!" Washu exclaimed. "How did you--well, no matter."
She turned, and addressed three large black spheres hovering nearby.
"No one can ever escape my capture droids," she said. "Go get him,
boys!"
The droids--Larry, Curly and Moe--took off after Genma in a flash,
mechanical tenticles waving about in a manner meant to look menacing,
but which actually struck their quarry as being spastic. He would have
laughed if he weren't so terrified.
<No time to get my cloths,> he thought. <Gotta find an exit.> He
hoped against hope that she'd been lying about being an alien, or if she
were one, that her ship hadn't taken off yet. He rounded a corner and
entered another part of the lab.
It was here that Washuu's experaments were kept, her "works in
progress," like the being in the tank with eyeballs growing out all over
it's upper body; or the man lying on the table with wires and tubes
issuing out of his skull, his brain on ice in a cryo-unit some meters
away; or the genetically altered cats. All three heads stared at him
and hissed as he ran past.
A bright rectangle in the middle distance.
<A door! Oh, praise Allah, let it be a way out,> Genma silently
prayed. It grew larger as he approached it. It was deep blue, and
about the same hight as a door, but he couldn't find a handle. The
capture 'bots were behind him, close, too close; he put his hands out
hoping that a seam would appear and the door would slide open like
that of an elevator--
--suddenly he was spinning, spinning through space--
--and then with a *THUD* he hit the ground outside his house.
"Oww!" He cursed, stood up, and looked around. It was his
neighborhood, allright, and approaching evening, too. He looked up
just in time to see the dimensional rift close in a fast-fading beam
of blue light. Genma sighed with relief.
Then he noticed that he was standing out in the middle of the
sidewalk totally nude. And with a stiffy, to boot. Someone screamed.
Genma flushed scarlet from head to toe, kicked in his own door--no
keys, you know--and ran inside.
The fact that his next door neighbor Miss Liza Jane Mary Ellis had
seen him out there "buck nekkid lahk th' day he wuz born" was enough
to bring the local constabulary. Though some of the people in the
area were not at all happy to have a "Mooslum" for a neighbor and
were more then willing to believe the worst, Genma's explanation that
he'd been sleepwalking was, along with his money and connections,
just--barley--enough to keep him from getting arrested.
The next few weeks were a constant trial for Genma as Larry, Curly,
Moe and Washuu tried repeatedly to apprihend him, with absolutly no
success. For every trap that Washuu thought up, Genma outwitted. But
oftentimes, Washuu's own traps were screwed up by her capture 'droids
themselves, which turned out to be somewhat clumsy and inept when it came
to the fine art of stealth. Once, for example, one of them tried to
disguise itself as his car, but Genma didn't own an '85 Ford Big-Black-
Ball-With-Mechanical-Tenticles, so that plot fell through. And we won't
even mention the infameous Plan X-Lax.
But the constant strain of being hunted by a maniacal alien scientist
began to wear on Genma, who wondered if Allah wasn't trying to tell him
something. Despite her hostile intentions, Genma found to his surprise
that whenever he thought of her, he harbored no feelings of hatred.
<Despite her evil, she is a very intelligent person,> he thought one
evening as he lay down to sleep, <*very* intelligent. Which, of course,
makes her all the more dangerous. I wish I could just talk to her
somehow, make her stop trying to hurt me. If we could work together. . .
myself and a scientist from another world. . .> He closed his eyes.
And was more then a little surprised the next morning when he
awoke to find her snuggled up next to him.
"W-What th--" He leaped out of the bed, tripped over his shoes
and almost hit his head against the dresser.
"Good morning, Genma-san," said Washuu as she sat up, raising the
sheet to her neck line to cover her nakedness. She pointed and giggled
at the sight of his red-and-blue "Superman" boxer shorts.
As he'd jumped away, Genma had grabbed from under his pillow the
nickel-plated .45 magnum he'd been carrying with him all the time
these past few weeks. He was aiming it square at her head, though
he knew it would be useless against her personal force field.
Glancing around wildly, he searched in vain for any sign of her
capture 'bots.
"Don't worry," said Washuu, "I gave those three the day off. I
wanted to talk to you alone, if I may."
"Oh? Why the sudden need for conversation?" asked Genma, wary.
"Because I have a proposition for you," she smiled. "I said
I wanted to study you--I still do. But I think I'd rather do it
down here, and in a non-violent way, then back in my lab. So. . .
if you let me live with you, I promise I won't try to kidnap you
or harm you in any way."
Genma grinned. "Why should I believe you?"
"'Cause I've been in bed with you throughout the night after
you fell asleep," she replied. "I could have taken you any time I
wanted to, but I didn't." She looked away for a moment. "I find in
you a kindered spirit, Saotome Genma."
He lowered his weapon.
"I've been alive for 200 centuries," she continued. "Throughout
most of that time, all I've had were my experaments, my creations.
I've never met anyone intelligent enough to relate to. . ."
"Surely you've met someone by now," said Genma, thinking, <20,000
years?!> He couldn't imagine a life span that long. Washuu smiled at
him; nodded.
"I was married once," she reflected, "even had a child. But my
husband belonged to a very important family, and I had to let them
go. I was not of his social class, you see. . ."
A memory came back to Genma, from one of his visions. It was of
Nodoka; he was courting her but had such a hard time convincing her
parents to let him even date her--she was of an old, very traditional
family, and he was just a commoner. . .
"That's terrible," he ventured. "Things like that shouldn't stand
in the way if two people love each other."
"Mmm. I also have a daughter, but she's--well. . ." <trapped in a
cave with no hope of escape,> thought Washuu.
"I. . .don't see too much of her."
"I see." Genma thought hard for several long minutes, remembering
all the incredible technology he'd glimpsed back in her lab, wondering
what the software on her computer's were like--if they even still
*used* software--imagining the look on the face of his arch-rival
Bill Gates when he came out with an alternative to not only
Windows but the Mac OS that was Allah only *knew* how many centuries
in advance of anything out there on the market today. And--oh,
Muhommad, Fatima and all the Prophets, what about *hardware*? What
if he used her expertise to set up manufacturing facilities where
he could make his own chips? His own *computers*? . . .
"What are you smiling at?" asked Washuu, a slight tinge of
suspicion in her voice. A huge Cheshire-cat grin had spread over
Genma's face.
"Why. . .nothin,' sweet-pea," said Genma. "Just come on over
here and give your adoptive daddy a big 'ol hug." He spread his arms
wide.
"Tsk," said Washuu, "I told you I'm not a kid. I just wear that
body cause it's convienent sometimes--makes people underestimate me.
This is what I *really* look like."
Before his eyes Washuu transformed into the most gorgious woman
Genma had ever seen before in his life. Her legs became longer, her
chest inflated dramaticlly, her face turned more mature, the lips
fuller, the eyes, even more luminous and beautiful. The very sight
of her was intoxicating, but he could see such pain and loneliness
in her eyes, in her soul.
Wordlessly, he held out a hand. Washuu stood, allowing the sheet
covering her to fall away as she went to him.
* *
* *
1997:
"The proposal, as I recall it, came later," said Washuu, looking up
into his eyes. "And you're the one that made it."
"And I ain't never regretted it a day in my life," he replied with a
gentile squeeze.
"Dahling. . .have I told you today how much I love you?" she asked.
"Not yet, no," grinned Genma.
"Well, I do." Suddenly she was an adult again, and her tongue was in his
mouth.
<Oh, mercy,> thought Genma. <All the world should be this happy. . .>
____________________________________________________________________________
__________
Next week, in Part 3: it isn't. Happy, that is. C+C, eveyone!
--Paul & Kenny