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R2096 WEB SITE: http://qlink.queensu.ca/~4cw6/2096a.htm
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WARNING: Though not explicit, the below story contains some adult
situations. I'd rate it PG-13.
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PROLOGUE
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The dark was also warm, and Ranma could almost see an orange glow
beyond his eyelids. Around him, noise and voices were coming into
being, but he couldn't understand them - nor did he try to. He
waited until they forced recognition upon him to awaken.
Snippets of remembrance slithered through his mind. Pain. Death.
Ghosts. Age. Loss. How silly. He must have eaten the wrong thing
last night to have such nightmares. But how could it have been the
wrong thing? Kasumi had cooked dinner, and she never made mistakes in
the kitchen.
Were those kitchen sounds, then? He decided to pay attention.
Sirens, shouts, loudspeakers, chanting and a million conversations
drowning out what could probably pass as music. Not kitchen sounds.
Ranma decided that any further sleep was liable to be
interrupted by the noise around him, so he opened his eyes. At first,
all he saw was green, but boy, did he ever see it. He viewed small
green scales in perfect detail, clearer than he'd ever seen anything
before. His head was overflowing with visual information, but he
didn't have a headache - if anything, he was getting a bit of a rush.
He wondered about the source of the miraculous green, and looked up.
A pair of gently sloping mounds, making him feel as if his forehead
should be moister than it felt. He looked down. Legs. Which
meant...
"Eyah!" Ranma tried to force himself away from the Kodachi
look-alike, and Newton's third law sent him sailing through a row of
her friends, leaving him face-to-face with a paper-mache version of
his female half. With horns. And a tail.
*STRIKE*
Someone swung a bokken, cracking the pinata open and spraying the
ground with cheap metal bells, black and white candies and pictures
of... him?
Before he could look closer, a circle of screaming girls closed
in on Ranma, falling on all fours to collect as many of the trinkets
as they could. They kicked, and screamed, and tackled each other
until all was once more darkness.
When the light returned, the scenery had changed for the worse.
In front of him now was a larger-than-life portrait of a
scantily-clad Kodachi hugging a ridiculously bishounen version of
himself. No way he'd ever allow his hair to grow that long. Or to
fall against his eyes like that. Was his chin really that pointy? He
could poke someone's eye out with that thing...
"Oh. You're awake." Ranma lowered his head and realized he'd
been looking at a mural painted on the side of a skyscraper.
Whatever was happening to his eyes made it difficult to gauge
distances, since nothing blurred with distance. It all stayed
perfectly in focus. "You look confused," the voice continued. "Don't
worry about it. The change had ME disoriented, too, and you HAVE
been warping for the last thousand K's." He was standing... no, he
was hovering next to that girl from what he'd hoped had been a dream,
on that weird motorcycle of hers. They appeared to be in a traffic
jam, though it wasn't any wonder that the cars weren't moving. They
didn't have any wheels. "Well," said Kim, "at least now I know why
your name sounded so familiar. I've been hearing it chanted over
loudspeakers ever since we entered Tokyo."
This was Tokyo? It looked nothing like the city he thought he
knew. Everything had a different tone to it, everything FELT
different. The air smelled of burnt circuitry and sweat, the light
was bluer than it should be, and all the movement that he saw was
either much too fast or much too slow. With the crowds on the
sidewalks shouting at each other, and the girls crying his name,
Ranma felt like he was an invited guest into someone else's dream.
Or his own nightmare.
"Where's Shampoo?" There was a pressure cooker strapped to the
side of the hovercycle, as he remembered there should be, but the
Amazon was nowhere in sight.
"I dropped her off at that restaurant of hers. The owner seemed
to know her, so I thought it was OK. Rat was making too much noise,
and she clubbed him one. I'm told he'll be back to his senses by
morning."
"Is he going to be-"
"All right? Sure. He's taken worse hits before." She gestured at
the roadside. "Anything you can tell me about this stuff?"
Ranma looked, and tried to understand. The streets were paved
with leotarded women. Some were holding placards, others shouting
through megaphones, and every block or so there was another pinata.
Large banners commemorated the '100th Anniversary of the Temporary
Ascension: 1996-2096' in bold red lettering on a white background.
Up ahead, a small boy with curly hair was directing traffic, dressed
in black and blue body armour.
Nope. There was nothing at all he could tell her.
"They can't see me?"
"What do YOU think? If they could see you, I don't think they'd
let us through."
"Oh."
"Now would be a good time to learn to glide," said Kim, "unless
you want to continue warping. I think they're about to let us
through."
Ranma nodded, scarcely listening. He was still trying to take
everything in. The buildings were taller than he'd ever seen, the
cars floated rather than rolled, and that policeman...
"What's a little tyke doin' workin' as a traffic cop? You guys
repealed child labour laws, or somethin'?"
"That's not a boy. It's a Cecil - they're the Kunou Foundation's city
troops."
"Kunou Foundation?"
"They didn't have it back when you... went away? I thought it'd
been around forever."
"Never heard of it. The only Kunou I know's a clown."
"Huh. Kind of odd they'd bring them out today. I suppose they
were worried that the Church of Kodachi's celebrations would start a
riot. Can't say I'd blame them."
"Church of Kodachi?"
"Look around you."
"They're kooky, but they look kinda harmless."
"There's been a lot of bad press for them lately. Seems they've
been linked to theft and murder. Nothing proven yet, but you know
how tabloids are, especially when hundreds of pretty girls are
involved. The Cecils are tough, though. Rumour has it that they're
cyborgs, and they're sure as heck not human."
"So, um... it'd be bad to run that red light right now, right?"
Kim hit the brake just in time to avoid doing just that in front
of one of the tiny soldiers.
"Yes, it would have been bad." Her voice was shaking. "Very bad."
Gliding had come almost intuitively to Ranma, and in no time at
all he'd learned to match his own speed to the hovercycle's, and stop
when the vehicle did.
"This isn't so bad," he commented while trying a pirouette. "In
fact, it's kinda fun."
"Good, 'cause you're going to have to get used to it."
"Whaddya mean?"
A passing girl stuffed a pamphlet into Kim's jacket pocket. She
was cackling and dressed like the Kodachi Ranma remembered, and had
used the opportunity afforded by the stop light to hop from car hood
to car hood and distribute propaganda through opened windows. The
number of open windows, of course, was a decreasing function of time.
Kim picked up the handout, glanced at it and held up the cover so
that Ranma could see it. The same painting he'd seen as a mural was
featured prominently on the front of the booklet.
"THIS is what I mean."
"Hey, look, it's not my fault!"
"Maybe not, but until I find a way to change your name and get
you plastic surgery..." The light turned green. Kim put away the
pamphlet and started the hovercycle. "Heck, I don't even know if
plastic surgery will LAST through one of our switcheroos... but until
I find a way to make you unrecognisable, I'm keeping the body.
You're enough of a hindrance to my social life WITHOUT having a bunch
of crazed nuns in leotards running after you. After us."
"Hindrance to your social life? How'd Kodachi start a church,
anyway?"
"How should *I* know? They don't have these crackpot religions
where I come from, and I haven't paid all that much attention to them
since I got here. Next time you have the body, why don't you go up
and ASK one of them? I'm sure they'd be THRILLED to tell you."
"Come on. It ain't that bad."
"Oh, no? Look at it my way. I'm bound for life to a dead minor
who I don't even know, my best friend's out cold in a pressure
cooker, and any thoughts of romance are out of the question, because
if I'm not careful, you might walk through the wrong wall or warp in,
and I'd be guilty of corruption."
"Who said anything about wanting to walk in on you?"
Kim shrugged.
"Like I said, I don't know you."
"Look, I didn't ASK to be brought back to life!"
"What a coincidence. I didn't ask for it, either."
Silence. More banners, shouting, and prodigious filling of
leotards by athletically-built young ladies.
"Where are we goin', anyway?"
"Rat's house. Much as I enjoyed seeing him naked, the boy needs
clothes before we can let him turn bat. Back. Turn BACK."
"It'd serve him right to run around in 'is birthday suit for a
bit."
"No it wouldn't."
"You got no sense of humour."
"Indecent exposure is against the law."
"So? As if anyone would-"
Kim shook her head.
"Not anyone. Someone. The Cecils have a big brother; he's the
police commissioner. I've seen him lift cars like barbells on the
news. You have to be insane to break the law in downtown Tokyo."
"Insane... like all these girls?"
"Exactly."
Silence.
"So, where's his house? He lives in style, yeah?" Ranma thought
he remembered something being said about a Hibiki fortune.
"A mansion. We're going to his aunt's first, though."
"What for?"
"To get a key to the house. Rat's parents are impossible to
reach during the day unless you're the CEO of a multinational, and
his own stuff stayed with his clothes, at Jusenkyo. Once in the
house, we can get duplicates of Rat's credit cards and ID along with
his clothes, and then use THOSE to get a new key for his res room."
"You think a lot, don't you?"
"That's why I'm in physics."
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Created by Christopher Willmore. / \ \ /
<4cw6@qlink.queensu.ca> / / \/
Based on a story by Rumiko Takahashi and /
Developed by C. Michael Schumacher / /
\ /
R2096 pages: http://qlink.queensu.ca/~4cw6/ \/(Logo:Armakuni)
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R2096 EPISODE TWO, SPECIAL EDITION: WACKY HIJINX
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For Vilja and Sean, because they liked it so much.
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"From every door they came
These children born of war, they came
Sharing a secret word which they
waited a hundred years to say."
-Richard Maltby, Jr. & Alan Boublil
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In my mind's eye, I see the projections of e-news and private
messages flicker backwards across my face. I know the visual effect
to be stunning for an onlooker, and that's one of the reasons that I
choose to leave the room unlit as I go through the evening's
correspondence. That the darkness hides the unmade bed behind me and
the piles of haphazardly strewn clothing that I must eventually pick
up is an unintentional bonus.
I hate laundry.
It's often in these sorts of moments, when the weight of
bureaucracy is threatening to crush me with its denials and red tape,
that I'm most grateful for Childra's presence. I've found that it's
impossible to tense a muscle without her fingers finding it at once
and kneading it back into relaxed submission.
"Where did you learn to massage?" I ask her, and open the
'incoming' tray in the Exploratory History folder.
"The Mughal court," comes the answer from behind me.
"Nineteenth century?"
"Eighteenth."
Oh, right. The pa-jaima affair. Leave it to Jansen to learn
advanced physical techniques during a twenty-minute time trip, and
still collect all of the required data.
I repress a shiver as two hands alight on me unexpectedly, one on
the back of my neck, and the other at the top of my head. The first
rubs my spine gently, exploring thoroughly the troughs between my
vertebrae. The second? Well... Nothing beats a good hair ruffling.
Childra's version makes me wish that all shampoos had fingernails.
Now, let's see what Gosunkugi wants today...
Ah. I suppose that was to be expected, but still...
I bite my lip.
"We're being blocked," I tell my loved one.
"Hrm?" From my spine and scalp, her hands wander to my
shoulders, slipping underneath my blouse and treating my skin to a
much-needed stretch.
It feels heavenly.
"The exhibit - you know the one I mean, the one to commemorate
the anniversary of the Global Saviour's death."
"I thought it was cancelled." A pinch. Oooo... And here I
thought I already knew where all of THOSE points were. I wonder if
she learned THAT at the Mughal court, as well. I might have to send
her back there.
"Not completely, but it might as well be. I've been working on
it for months, and the KF is blocking me at the eleventh hour. From
the top level, too." I point at the message's 'From' field, giving
Childra a chance to read the address.
"The Chief Executor's office. I'm not surprised." Her voice is
soft and low. But then, she always keeps her cool. Well, almost
always. "The KF has quite a bit to hide, and they're downright
paranoid when it comes to releasing information about dear old
Tatewaki. Or don't you remember that incident a few decades ago,
with professor... what WAS his name? At the university, in the
history department."
I'd seen too many of my researchers lose their licenses for
trying to find out more about that 2053 disappearance. It's best not
to look to closely into one of the KF's 'tactical removals' if one
values one's livelihood.
"I don't recall," I lie. I trust Childra with my life, but
there's always the possibility of bugs. One can never be too careful
when dealing with the less elegant moves of the Kunou Foundation.
Her hands leave my shoulders. Have I upset her? My tone WAS a
bit strong, maybe even bitter, but - ah. I have to smile when I feel
a finger brushing lightly against my wrist. She works her way up my
arm and upper chest, and ends up tracing circles on my sternum.
She's teasing me, making the orbits ever wider, wandering left, then
right...
I clap her hand firmly against my breast and keep on reading.
She can feel my heartbeat, now. I'm sure it's faster than it should
be.
My, oh my. Today just isn't my day; each message seems to bring
worse news than the previous one.
"They're cancelling our public lectures." I scowl, then frown.
"No. Wait. Just the Friday one. But they're still ignoring my
requests for biographical data."
"You know," says Childra, sounding like a fox and prying my
fingers off of hers, "there ARE other ways of getting that
information."
I look back at her, and consider it for a moment. Her eyes are
green for my sake, and they twinkle now, accenting the pale pink lips
whose corners are turned upwards in an unmistakably mischievous
grin. A lock of straw-blonde hair slips out of place and settles
across the bridge of her nose, distracting me for a moment.
"No," I decide, having considered her offer. "It's too risky."
"Risky?"
"The KF is ignoring my requests out of self-preservation, not
laziness. There's SOMETHING they're quite adamant in hiding, and I'm
not curious enough to risk my life or that of one of my employees to
find out what it is."
"Is that all I am? Your employee?"
Fishing for compliments, is she? I pretend not to notice.
"While you're punched in, yes."
"It's not as if I haven't dealt with the KF on previous
missions."
"It's been too quiet recently; you've gotten out of shape. I
know for a fact," and here I jerk my thumb towards our double bed,
"that you can't even make it through an hour of strenuous exercise
without falling asleep."
"Is that so?"
"It IS s... s... No fair tickling!" She stops, and I'm able to
compose myself. "You're my most trusted agent, but it's been a while
since you've had a confidential assignment. You're getting rusty,
and could be caught... UNAWARES!"
While she's still startled, I swivel through a half-circle on my
chair, lunge towards her and press my hands against her shoulders.
An elementary judo trip later, I have her pinned on the carpet. My
knees are on either side of her waist, and I hold one of her hands in
each of my own. I can't help but stare at her hair. Spread out on
the floor that way, it almost looks like a halo. With a dark
interior. Someone's been forgetting to dye their hair, I see.
"Your roots are showing."
"So are your fangs," she counters.
I grin, purposely exposing the overlarge canines I inherited from
my grandfather.
"Don't worry," I purr in a voice a full octave below my regular
speaking tone. "You won't have to see them for much longer."
We understand each other. Childra closes her eyes and parts her
lips in preparation for the kiss to come. Vampire-like, I swoop down
and-
The doorbell rings, of course.
Chi-chan's eyes open. Before I can complain, she's used me as a
lever to propel herself back into a standing position.
"I'll get it," she says cheerfully, and leaves me to dust myself
off and put the chair back into its full upright position.
I wait, leaning with my back against the wall and hoping that
it's only an insurance salesman.
"Oh, Kim! How... unexpected," comes my darling's voice from the
entrance hall. Does the Thompson girl even KNOW about Childra and I?
"Is Rat with you?" I chuckle. I know for certain that my nephew
doesn't even SUSPECT. He's called me his spinster aunt more than
once.
I kick a bra or two aside and walk to join my lover and offer our
self-invited guest the comforts of our hospitality.
When I arrive, Childra and Thompson are talking - alone. Thankfully,
Rat did not come with her. Though I make no secret of my partner, some
explanations are awkward and best left to their proper time and place.
I cock my head, trying to find an angle from which the scene makes
sense. Jansen and the girl are speaking, but apparently not to each
other. The former is looking to Thompson's left, missing her head
entirely, but that isn't any great loss, since the girl's face is turned
far to the right.
Though chatting away, she looks as confused as I feel.
I wave lazily, and yawn.
She notices me. For a moment. Apparently, our carpet is more
interesting than I am.
"Zannen, dear," says Childra without turning, "you haven't any
trousers on."
Ah. That WOULD explain the blush.
I shrug. My blouse is long enough to satisfy modesty's requirements,
and we're all girls here.
A few cushions are still on the ground from our tussle a few hours
back. I bend down to pick them up.
"What brings you to our apartment?" I ask, while fluffing and
arranging them on the sofa.
"Kim's here about a key to the Hibiki's. It seems your nephew lost
his."
Oh, that's right.
"You two were going on some sort of trip together, weren't you?" I
think I remember a scavenger hunt being mentioned. "How'd it go? With
Reiraku at the wheel, I'm surprised you made it back this early." They're
only two days overdue - a new record.
Thompson tames her uneasiness with a grin, and answers.
"The trip was driving him batty, so we came back early."
I nod while patting myself on the areas that might conceivably hide a
pocket.
"I don't have the key," I conclude. "Step into the bedroom with me,
and I'll see if I can find it."
The girl glances nervously back at Childra, who's still staring at the
door and grinning like a maniac.
"Don't worry about her; she gets like that sometimes." Far too often
for my taste, actually, but she refuses to see anyone about it. Most
people get rid of the imaginary friends of their childhood. Childra
slaughtered hers, and now holds regular conversations with their 'ghosts'.
Thompson's upper teeth meet her lower lip. She's unsure of something,
but I can't tell what. I begin to get the feeling that the trip didn't go
as smoothly as she'd have me believe.
"Well?" I decide not to press the issue. If Reiraku's in trouble,
I'll find out soon enough.
She follows me.
I must look like a mole as I dig through the piles of fabric on the
bedroom floor. One of my first finds is the bottom half of the pin-stripe
suit I wore to work, which I put on to avoid further offending our guest's
sensibilities.
Back to searching.
Notes, bills, change, a bottle of perfume I'd been looking for;
whoops, THIS she didn't have to see... The girl turns red and looks down
while I put the offending item into a drawer. She must have weak
capillaries to blush so often.
I finally find my suit jacket beneath the tangled mess of the
comforter.
The key is in the breast pocket, and I hand it to Thompson.
"Of course you'll be careful with it." She assures me that she will.
"And DON'T let Rat get a hold of it - he'd just lose it, and I haven't
another copy. You can slip it into my EH mailbox when you're done. It's
right next to my office." The girl mutters a rushed thanks and exits the
room like a canary fleeing a gas-filled coal mine.
Back in the parlour, Childra's bubbling with excitement and whispering
rapidly to the door.
"The advances in home security during the last few years have been
remarkable," I admit, "but I think you'll still find that a doorframe
makes a dull partner in conversation. Or is it one of your 'ghosts'?"
Jansen turns around. She's beaming. If her lips stretched any
farther apart, her head would split in two.
"Ghosts?" asks Thompson.
Before I can clarify, Childra excuses herself to me and the door.
"I... I have to go," she says, then rushes into the bedroom. The sound of
cloth ruffling and small objects being tossed around is heard for a few
moments, then she runs back in, holding an armful of clothing and
accessories which she begins to put on. Jacket, bandolier and neckerchief
all find their way onto her frame, and she hops around while putting on
her short leather boots. When she's done, she takes a quick look into the
hall mirror, runs a hand through her hair and smooths her eyebrows with
her fingers.
That's when she spins around and grabs my head with both hands,
reeling me in for a brief but impassioned closed-eyes kiss. I manage to
keep my balance.
By the time I clear my throat, she's already left. The door slams
behind her.
"We... I should be leaving, too." About time the girl notices. A
pity it's a bit too late. "I think the parking meter's about to expire."
I dismiss her with a smile and a wave, and Thompson slinks out.
For her, the door closes with a mere click.
* * * * *
"She saw you?" Kim struggled to keep herself from speeding. With all
the feelings she had swirling within her, what she wanted most to do was
slam down the hovercycle's accelerator pedal and shoot out of the city -
but that would only bring her to the attention of the police, be it
through a crash or otherwise.
"Yeah, she saw me. You saw us talkin', didn't you?" No matter how
fast she went, Ranma's ghost form kept up and looked as if it were
standing still. It was enough to make a speed freak go insane.
"Yes, but I couldn't hear her. What did she say?"
"She just asked me who I was, an' stuff-"
"You TOLD her???"
"Why not?"
"Why not? Because now we'll have the C-Ko on our tail, that's why
not!"
"Hey! She said she wanted to be my friend!"
"Your FRIEND?"
"Yeah. Guess she thought I looked lonely."
"Deity... Why was she so happy?"
"Dunno. Maybe she liked my name. Look, why're you so concerned about
it? So she can see me. Big deal. So can bat-boy, an' neither of them's
wearin' a leotard."
"She's my next-door neighbour."
Ranma blinked.
"... Are you two... well... you know..."
"NO!" Kim's face flushed red. "I didn't even know she was... I mean,
she goes out with GUYS every other night, for crying out loud! At least, I
thought she - whoops." She slammed the brakes on the hovercycle. "We're
here."
Ranma whistled appreciatively, and with reason. The Hibiki mansion
was of a size and elegance unheard of in crammed 1996 Tokyo.
"Big house," he concluded, as Kim unstrapped the pressure cooker from
the 'cycle. "How come there's no guards?"
"In downtown Tokyo? You'd have to be..."
"...crazy to break the law. I know."
The key slipped easily into the front door, which opened automatically
to let girl, ghost and pot into the mansion.
"See any rope?" They'd gone through kitchens, game rooms, libraries,
two or three bathrooms and wondered more than once how Rat ever found his
own room in the place. After accidentally stumbling upon the master
bedroom, servants' quarters and guest chambers, they were finally in
Reiraku's room, which was surprisingly Spartan. It held only a bed,
night-table, desk, chair, lamp, rug and closet. The walls were
white-washed, the furniture of rough pine, and a window across from the
desk clearly provided most of the light during the day.
"Whaddya need rope for?"
Kim opened the pressure cooker and set the bat on the bed, patting it
dry with a corner of the pillow.
"To tie him up." Ranma stared at her. "Later. Right now, we need to
find him some clothes." She rummaged through Reiraku's closet, pulling
out several items, holding them up, shaking her head and putting them
back. She managed to eventually piece together an acceptable outfit, and
laid it out on the bed.
"Just a second," she told Ranma, and walked into the adjacent
washroom. When she emerged a quarter of an hour later, she was holding a
glass of water.
"You sure take your time. Didn't know how to turn a tap on, or
somethin'?"
Kim turned her usual shade of red.
"The LIVING have certain needs, you know, and we haven't had a pit
stop since before we reached the city."
"Oh, yeah. Aheheheh."
Kim put her pinky finger in the water to make sure it wasn't
uncomfortably hot. Once satisfied, she carefully dribbled it onto the
belly of the bat, paying perhaps a little too much attention to the
transformation from furry creature into well-built youth.
Her contemplation was interrupted by a loud thump followed by rustling
noises.
"What was that?"
"Dunno. Probably a cat fallin' out of a tree. Happens all the time."
Kim nodded, and started to dress the still-unconscious boy.
Underwear, undershirt, socks, shirt and trousers were all put on with
delicateness and care. Ranma looked away, but didn't make any inopportune
remarks when she lifted Reiraku's legs to slide the boxers up to his
waist, or grabbed his shoulders and pulled his chest upright to be able to
put on his shirt. The finishing touch was a red bandanna. She arranged
the boy's hair around it in a fetching manner then stood back, hands on
hips, to admire her handiwork.
"There. Now..." Kim eyed the corner of the bed. She tried tugging a
sheet from under Rat, found she couldn't fully remove it and instead took
an armful of fresh bedding from the closet. She used the sheets to tie
Rat's extremities to the bedposts and bind his waist to the mattress. The
leaves in the tree just outside the window crackled madly.
Ranma shrugged.
"Prolly a squirrel or a bird. Watcha tyin' him up for NOW? Aren't ya
s'posed to do that BEFORE he gets his clothes back on?"
"NO!"
"You want I should leave for half an hour?"
"WHAT?!? Look; we can't leave the key with him, and we can't have him
getting lost until we know more about his curse. I'm making sure he stays
put, just in case he wakes up before we get back. That's ALL."
"Touchy, aren't ya." The ghost looked at Reiraku's face. "Bat-boy's
out cold. What did you say happened to him again?"
"The Amazon slugged him."
"Must've hit a pressure point."
Kim frowned briefly, then loosened one of the bonds around Reiraku's
wrists enough for him to be able to scratch his nose, but not untie
himself.
"Stay here, will you?"
"Gotta go again?"
"Something like that."
"Girls have the weakest bladders..."
She was faster, this time, and came back from her trip (she'd visited
one of the kitchens) with a platter of cookies and a glass of milk.
"Just in case," she explained, setting the food on the night-table
where Rat could reach it. Kim set the thermostat to a reasonable
temperature, then opened the window a crack. "He'll need fresh air to
recover."
"Sure you don't want to set the TV up an' program the VCR for him,
while you're at it? Or fluff his pillow?"
Kim blinked.
"TV? And I already fluffed his pillow."
"Never mind."
"Let's head over to Kurenai Center for some dinner. I'm starving!"
As soon as the door closed behind them, a pair of pale, long-fingered
hands opened the window to its full extent and let their proprietor into
the room.
* * * * *
"Don't even try to joke with me, Childra. The Dead are beyond humour.
Especially about... about this, and TONIGHT, of all nights!."
"LISTEN to me. In all our years of friendship, have I lied to you?"
"You told me Nutkin was harmless."
"Other than that."
"No. You haven't. But I'd KNOW if he were here. What do you think
I've been doing with my time? With ALL my time? I see his face on half
the boys in Tokyo; he looks at me from movie screens, and when I close my
eyes, he's also there..."
"With his brown eyes, his smirk, and long-haired sideburns. His
pigtail is segmented, his eyebrows are thin, and his hair tosses itself in
front of him, but doesn't quite reach his eyes. I'll wager he was wearing
a red silk shirt and black baggy trousers when he died."
"How-"
"He is HERE. In Tokyo. Now."
"I... I just can't believe... After all this..."
"There's nothing to BELIEVE! Go and see for yourself!"
"What if he's just some actor the C-Ko hired?"
"Then would I be able to see through him?"
"The Dead can change their appearance at will."
"You have to take that chance."
"Tell me where he is."
"You'll go to him?"
"Yes."
* * * * *
Kurenai Center turned out to be a multi-level mall with a reasonable
(and more importantly, reasonably-priced) food court on its top floor.
The location was fortunate, since the ground-floor lobby had been taken
over by a loud C-Ko rally, complete with guest speakers and door prizes.
Kim took the elevator up and passed by an okonomiyaki stand, a sushi
bar, a tea lounge and a Chinese restaurant, stopping only at an
American-style hamburger stall. She paid for her combination platter with
a bill.
"Waitasec!" piped the ghost beside her. "What's that guy on the
money?"
Kim sipped quietly at her drink. She found a table in an isolated
corner and only spoke once she was comfortably seated.
"Ta-" A cheer from the ground floor interrupted her. "Tatewaki
Kunou."
"WHAT? What's HE doin' on the money?"
Kim blinked.
"Gee, I don't know. He's only the Global Saviour, and this is only his
home country..."
"Global Saviour? You're kiddin'."
Kim shrugged.
"I don't write history; I just try to pass the exams."
"What'd he do to be Global Thingamajiggy?"
"Became a monk and wrote some poetry. Look, I don't KNOW! I'm hungry,
and I want to eat. If you're REALLY curious, I'm sure Childra will be
more than happy to tell you about it once we get back. But first, I'm
going-" More cheers. "I'm going to finish my dinner. Understand?"
"Yeah, sure. Whatever."
Ranma left Kim to her food and leaned over a balcony, looking down at
the rally in his honour. Thompson used the opportunity to take the C-Ko
pamphlet she'd been given out of her jacket pocket, and begin to read it.
She sipped her drink, then frowned at something on the first page.
The second page made her puree the French fry she was holding. The third
turned her red as a beet, and after the fourth she had to take long gulps
of the drink to cool down. And the fifth...
Well, she really should have known better than to go on to the fifth
page, given the heading listed on the table of contents, and the
French and Danish illustration credits. The few words drifting up from
the rally below didn't help, either. All she caught were 'bed', 'chain',
'whip' and 'Collective Bridegroom, Ranma Saotome'.
She spit out her drink and spilled the rest of it on her lap.
In no time at all, it was Ranma's lap.
She fared slightly better than the first time - her ghost form wasn't
unconscious, but it seemed to be suffering from a really bad hangover.
Ranma looked at Kim. She was bent over and clutching her head.
"You all right?"
"Get out of the body! NOW! Before... *urk* before the C-Kos see you!"
"But..."
"NOW! Unless you want to..." She couldn't finish the sentence.
Thinking of what was described in the pamphlet only made her sick to her
stomach.
"How?"
"Must I spell it out for you? Use the washroom!"
"Oh, yeah..."
Out of consideration for the body's future host, Ranma walked into the
women's bathroom. He took a few seconds to admire himself in the mirror,
and once satisfied that he was as handsome as on the day he died, he
splashed himself with hot water from the sink. Soon, HE was the one
clutching his head.
"Let's go back to res." Kim looked at him sharply. "There's something
I need to ask you about."
Some minutes passed before one of the toilets flushed and a young
woman in a green leotard stepped out of the corresponding stall. She ran
all the way to the ground floor, cursing her bowels for not allowing her
to get out earlier.
* * * * *
"Sisters... HE has returned."
"Can you be sure?"
"Sister Copernica can usually be trusted. And so can our KF security
cam taps."
"And they show..."
The relevant video was played. Those assembled hissed at the
transformation.
"Ranma Satana..."
"Precisely. It is our duty to rescue our beloved from her clutches,
is it not?"
The question did not have to be asked.
"Where are they headed?"
"Our TRAFCON tap lists them en route to Kunou Hall."
"Send our university recruits after them."
"Will that be enough?"
"The Cecils are out." Nods of understanding all around. "We'll monitor
the Harridan until we find a time when she is vulnerable, and then..."
"Then?"
"We extend to her all the benefits of our hospitality."
* * * * *
"So, what were you gonna ask me about?"
Ranma looked around Kim's residence room while she took off and hung
her jacket. It was small, but comfortable enough. Beds hadn't changed
much in a hundred years, and neither had closets or desks. He thought he
could recognise a computer and a sound system, but these WERE quite
altered from the forms he knew.
"I don't want to talk about it right now."
"But YOU were the one who wanted to chat!"
Kim closed her closet door and looked at him. She looked haggard.
"My jeans are soaked with cola, and thanks to you my panties are
stretched and my bra's out of shape. Before I quiz you on the C-Ko's
little bit of literature, I want to get very, very clean because I know
I'll be feeling incredibly dirty afterwards."
"What?"
She opened the door and began to exit, then thought better of it and
turned back to the ghost.
"Just... before I go change. You didn't REALLY beat Hercules's
'hundred in a night' record, did you?"
"What are you TALKING about?!?"
"I thought not. Wait for me here."
* * * * *
"Sisters, the Harridan is on her way to the third-floor showers.
Prepare to intercept her."
"Understood."
* * * * *
"Kim! They're co-" Ranma froze in his tracks once he was fully through
the wall. Kim stood in front of him, completely naked, dripping wet and
glaring.
"Ah... Aheheheh..."
The jets of water were just rinsing off the lather from her hair,
which fell to the top of her breasts. The ghost's petrified gaze didn't
stop there. Instead of covering herself, Kim stood up straight and
pressed a few buttons on a panel to her right, turning the water cold.
Kim's ghost grimaced from the pain of transference, but had to laugh
at the sight of a naked Ranma struggling with the unfamiliar controls.
"Take your time," she told him. "I'm enjoying this."
He pushed a button, and a mechanical hand attached to the shower
nozzle took a few strands of his hair.
"Ow!"
There was some chirping, and then a generous dose of shampoo was
sprayed onto his scalp.
The next button caused the arm to scrape off a bit of his skin, then
cover him with liquid soap.
Neither of them was the hot water, and he was running out of time.
Running and footsteps could be heard in the adjacent hall.
"I think that's the girls' track-and-field team coming in after their
tournament. Maybe NOW you'll think twice about surprising a lady while
she's bathing."
"Look, that ain't no track-and-field team; that's -"
The shower sent a jet of warm water to rinse off the soap.
Kim returned to the body just as a squad of young women in green
leotards ran into the bathroom yelling unintelligible battle cries.
Before she could complain, they'd grabbed her and carried her off in her
birthday suit, still covered in shampoo and shower gel.
"At least it's a warm night outside," mused Ranma.
He didn't have to wait long before warping out.
* * * * *
At the Hibiki mansion, Kim's work was being undone. A young girl was
busily pulling the clothes off of Reiraku, breathing raggedly and
shuddering whenever her pale skin touched his. Her long hair flowed over
his mouth, trying to block the words he was saying and muffle the name he
was whispering.
It wasn't hers.
She knew that; she'd gotten used to it long ago, and she HAD tried to
stay away... but lately Kim and he had been spending so much time
together...
She'd worried.
She had a right, didn't she? They were family. Cousins. Relatives
were supposed to take care of each other. All she was after was his
happiness. That her own stemmed from it was purely incidental.
The girl traced a line from Rat's now-bare sternum to his navel.
Dare she go farther?
Of course she did.
She'd gotten it wrong, last time, stopping when she had... and now
that Thompson had found some way to bewitch him and make her beloved
change form, she'd best take advantage of his current state, before he
turned into a bat again. Or worse.
She took her dagger from its holster at her side and slit through her
cousin's boxers. Now all he wore was his bandanna.
The girl giggled. He looked so cute...
She focused her lilac eyes on his sleeping face, memorizing every
detail, then peeled off her bodysuit and lay herself upon him.
She probed his mind. There was no rush. The dear boy was out like a
light until daybreak, at least. An unintended gift from some other
magician. Which reminded her...
She ran her tongue along his skin, trying to find the points she
needed. Salty. He'd been sweating a lot. Had it been for fear, strain,
or excitement?
Odd. She thought she could taste an herb broth...
No matter. There, on his temple. She dug a nail in. On his chin.
Another. She worked her way down, wriggling to accommodate her probe and
enjoying the way his body automatically tensed under the pressure.
Finally, all seven points were hit, and she muttered the words of the
spell. A brief glow surrounded both of them, and it was done. Her wards
were in place.
Now Kim could do nothing to harm him without her knowledge.
But as for what SHE could do to him...
She smiled, and began to use her tongue again, this time focusing on
things other than ki pathways. When that could no longer satisfy the need
she felt, she allowed herself to send tendrils of her aura into his own
and awaken the part of his mind that was least susceptible to dormancy -
and the only one which she would need tonight.
She laid her belly flush against his, spreading his feet out with her
own then moving her legs back together. They were the same height.
Reiraku's body knew what to do. It began to move under her
stimulation and partial control, and because it was linked to her
soul-signature, her aura, it always found the perfect places, the perfect
rhythm and timing...
She supposed they were now... kissing cousins.
It was awful, a travesty, a perversion of the powers she'd been
trained in by the Collective.
It was wonderful.
* * * * *
The ghost looked at the empty bathroom.
Childra hadn't lied. He had been there. He'd been in sight, in
reach, and then had disappeared. Too late by SECONDS only...
No matter where he was, she'd find him.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
"I still believe
You will return
I know you will
My heart
Against all odds
Holds still"
-Richard Maltby, Jr. & Alan Boublil
==========================================================================
END WACKY HIJINX
==========================================================================
Acknowledgments:
Many thanks to Sean Gaffney for getting me worked up enough to rewrite the
episodes, and for providing the name for this one. Adrian Wong was a
patient and excellent sounding board, and most of the scenes were written
with Vilja in mind. Ross McKenzie is responsible for the name
'Exploratory History', and RpM is accountable for hovercars in Tokyo.
Though I don't know him, Danny Elfman is a constant source of inspiration,
and so is Mihoshi, the lady who introduced me to his music. A belated
thanks to my brother (who I'm pretty sure won't read this) for making sure
that the 'new' Kim Thompson was sweet enough, and to the R2096 pre-read
list for their encouraging remarks.
Finally, an episode I'm happy with... ^_^ Now on to number three. ANY
input or commentary is GREATLY appreciated. If there's anyone I've
forgotten to give credit to, please let me know (these things happen ^^;)
and I'll include them in the RAAC release's thanks section.
-CW
One more thing... I didn't want to interrupt the flow of the story with
it, but I simply MUST include the following quote from 'Miss Saigon':
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Last night I watched him sleeping
My body pressed to him
And then he started speaking
The name I heard him speak... was Kim."
-Richard Maltby, Jr. & Alan Boublil
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
__________________________________________________________________________
Christopher Willmore http://www.geocities.com/Paris/Bistro/2653/index.htm
"Every nice girl loves a psychopath." - Iris Murdoch
R2096: http://qlink.queensu.ca/~4cw6/2096a.htm