Waters Under Earth

A Ranma 1/2 Fanfic by Alan Harnum 
-harnums@thekeep.org
-harnums@hotmail.com (old/backup)

After far too long a wait, the much-delayed Chapter 38 of Waters
Under Earth.  This past month has seen me enormously busy at 
school and with other projects, and for a long time I was blocked
on just how to go about writing this chapter.

Well, it's not like "Eidolons" was a waste of time. Given the choice of
getting another chapter of WUE sooner, I'd still go with things the way
they went.

I hope I've finally persevered, though.  After a year and a half
of work, I have only two chapters left to go.  :)

Don't get run over by a truck.  You'd become a shinentai.  :)

Commentary is extremely welcomed and much appreciated.

So I've noticed.  :)  I've tried not to overlap with Gary's.

Waters Under Earth at Transpacific Fanfiction:  
http://www.humbug.org.au/~wendigo/transp.html

Chapter 38 : The Conflagration

     Occasionally she would catch a glimpse of Kuno, struggling
like her amongst the dead.  Nabiki knew that she was screaming,
but it couldn't be heard over the laughter of the dead.  She 
could feel with absolutely certainty her mind closing off,

with absolute certainty

becoming numb to the sheer horror of this thing so that it

{suggest} of this place so

wouldn't shatter completely.

     Had it been like this for Kasumi?  Had she fought at first,
struggled, and then descended down into the comforting numbness 
of not thinking of anything, of not fighting any more?

{Good question. Questions like that are what lead to empathy, and Nabiki
really needs to feel another's pain as though it were her own.}

 How Kuno
had the strength to fight all the time while she was climbing
down the spire of stone - and she had thought that hard, fool she

fool that she {?}

was - she could not even begin to imagine.  Soon she would give
up, give in and go down to the bottom, if there was a bottom to

give in, and  {optional, but I like it}

this place.

     A mindlessly flailing arm struck her on the side of the 
head, and for a moment unconsciousness threatened.  As she
struggled to regain her senses, she slipped deeper down into the

{suggest omitting "down"; see next}

mass, corpses piling atop her one after the other.  Frantic
fighting did nothing; there were too many, driving her deeper
down towards the bottom as though they were a solid wall.  Her

{suggest omitting "deeper", unless you want the echo}

     Nabiki raised her head from her rescuer's shoulder, knowing
even before she saw the face who it was.  Kasumi looked back, and
smiled gently.  She was wearing the same ragged clothing she had 

{suggest} she had worn {also for the double meaning of "worn"}

in the garden, and her unbound hair framed her face like tangled 
ivy.  In this place of burning sky and death, Nabiki's older
sister seemed an island of calm.

     "Fine!" she snapped.  "Just stay here, then."  But she
looked back, and saw Kasumi, facing away from her and towards the
distant darkness in the air.  A heavy sigh broke from her.  "Come
on, Tatewaki.  Please."  She reached out and touched cold, smooth

touched the cold {?}

leather of the mask.

     (She hadn't been able to move.  They had held her down and
      cut her arm that they might catch the blood in a bowl of
      hammered silver.  They cut her and burned her and flayed
      her and threw her down into the pit where her mother and
      her sister clawed at her.  They locked her heart up in a
      box and put a stone in its place.  They danced her on
      strings like a puppet.  They made her kill for them, the
      animals, and the boy in the garden.  Then she was back in
      the pit, but someone came down to her - an angel perhaps,
      one who left the safety above to descend into the dead -
      but they were too deep, all too deep and there was no way
      out)

{Ah. Empathy. Not only to feel his pain, but to know how he feels about
what she did. Very good. }

     "Just stand up.  Take his hand, make sure he stands up to.
Now, put your hand in mine... that's right.  Now close your 
eyes... we're going to step off.  And don't think about where
we're going."

     "What?"

{heh. How often does telling someone NOT to think about something work?
:) }

     And then, as if the words were a command, Nabiki sank down
into a dreamless sleep.

{Hmm. I'm not sure Nabiki was in there long enough to learn what she
needed to learn. Being rescued by Kasumi might have been necessary in
the short term, but I can't help thinking that it'll have adverse
consequences in the long term...}
 

     "There was a deal, was there not?" a cold voice asked.  The

{Suggest "bargain", or perhaps "pact"; "deal" sounds too
20th-century-casual.}

huge blond man held his sword loosely, but looked almost ready to
use it.  "You were to let them go."

     Suddenly, Baazel laughed.  The threat was gone.  "Very well
then, Yan.  If it will make you happy."

     "It will not," Yan replied.  "But I will see it done all the
same."

{Yan is far beyond happiness, isn't he? And Baazel can only pretend it.
Triumph, but not happiness.}

     "All that time I spent training so I could be as good as
him, so I could surpass him."  Ryoga clenched a fist.  "And 
now... now he flies around like a bird.  The sort of power that
must take... I'll never catch up."

     "But why do you need to?  What are you competing for?"
     
     Ryoga's sour expression transformed into contemplative,
passed from that into bitterness, and settled eventually upon a
sort of weary peace.  He looked quite suddenly like a man who had
followed a long trail in search of something, only to turn around
and see it had paced behind him all the while.  Slowly, he 
smiled.  "Nothing, anymore," he said.  "You're right, Akane."

{The right words at the right time, for a change... Ryoga must realize,
however dimly, the terrible price of Ranma's power. Even he, who is
usually so self-absorbed, can see that it's not a good deal, er,
bargain.}

     It came closer, and pulled down the hood, and Akane gasped
softly.  Her own face stared back from within the shadowy mantle;
for a moment, Akane looked with shock upon her own doppelganger,
and then the rational part of her mind put things together.  
"Kima."

{Yes, that's just about right. I was trying to remember if Akane's ever
seen Kima's cursed form; I don't think she has. I'm sure Ranma or
Ryoga told her about it, though.}

     All four of them turned their heads towards the encampment
of the Joketsuzoku, and at that moment, in the north, Baazel 
threw his declaration of war to the heavens.  The black mists 
swirled up into the air like a dark cape being unfurled across 
the heavens, and took the shape of a winged creature halfway 
between bird and reptile.  The thing spread wings talons to the

wings and talons {?}
 

sides, spanning the empyrean from east to west.  Its great 
beaked maw of its mouth opened, and a bellowing cry of triumph

The great beaked maw of its mouth {or}
Its great beaked maw of a mouth {? looks like you considered both}

shook the mountains:

     Night fell early over what had been Jusenkyou.  Beneath the
shadow of the menacing spectre in the sky, no light of the fading
sun could penetrate.  By the time it had vanished, the sun was
entirely set, and the stars had come out overhead.  They were
especially bright that night, bright enough to see clearly what
the black mists had done to Jusenkyou.  The land was cracked and
blighted; splinters of woods and scraps of withered flora were 
all that remained to mark the existence of life.  The darkness 
had devoured the land like a ravaging cancer, and only the island
surrounded by the lake gave testament to what it had once been.
Yet even the waters seemed dead as the land around them, 
reflecting only dimly the stars in the sky.

{"Cancer" is also a constellation... :) }

     Off near the banks of the black lake, the traitorous old
bird-man was standing in deep concentration.  She could feel him
reaching out; his power was clumsy but strong.  No birds would
answer his call, though; no animal would come within miles of
Jusenkyou now if it could avoid it, no matter how much sorceries
might coerce it.

{suggest} no matter how much sorcery might coerce it
{or} no matter how many sorceries might coerce it
{or perhaps} no matter what sorceries might coerce it

     Ritter said nothing.  He seemed to be gazing off at 
something no one else could see.  Finally, he spoke:  "The
Joketsuzoku are in the pass.  You will destroy them, and then 
march upon the Phoenix."

     "Yes."  Yoko nodded her head.  Her heart was clear now, no
longer so heavy.  Until the end of time, let the master's will be
done.  

{This shows nicely how alien Yoko is: Yan's answers are not compelling
to me, but clearly are to her. I really don't understand how she thinks,
and I'm glad I don't.}

     She raised her hand; young again, like the rest of her.  
That was a blessing, of sorts.  The waters stirred, though no
wind blew across them.  A single ripple cut the surface, and
rapidly became a slow movement of spreading rings across the
water.  The circles crossed over one another, intertwined into 
more complex patterns, and then finally died away into nothing.
     
     Yoko said, simply and gently, as a mother calls to a child, 
"Come."

{Uh oh.  When they don't bother to be flashy, look out.}

     The smoke rose in a thin plume against the stars, spread 
out, and vanished.  Up on the slopes, Shampoo could see the glow 
of fire against the rock.  Fang Shi's funeral pyre.  If anyone
did not deserve one, it was her; but there was no reason to wound
Bai Ling further.  Never would she have imagined her old rival
coming around like that, but Bai had.  In the process, she'd
somehow been defeated by Ryoga.  Without all the tragedy, the
situation would have been almost comical.

{My feeling exactly.  :) }

     The tents of the Joketsuzoku made it appear as though a 
small city had risen in the pass.  A few camp fires burned, but
most of her people were asleep now, exhausted from the long 
march.  In the morning... well, see what the morning brought.
Though if the now-vanished spectre in the northern sky was any
tell, there would be battle before long.  Sentries and guards had

{suggest} any indication, {or} any sign,

been positioned throughout the pass, and would be relieved in a
few hours.  As for her... she wasn't tired at all.

     Suddenly cold, she rubbed her hands together and stamped her
feet.  Kuang Biao was a comforting weight against her thigh; the
sword was one of the finest weapons she'd ever handled, and a 
good weapon was always blessing - most especially at a time like 
this.

always a blessing {?}

     Of their own accord, her thoughts turned to the others.
Ryoga was with Bai, of course, and Ranma was wherever he had gone
to; whatever she might wish, she could not entirely decry the

{"decry" carries the connotation of external or public comment; this
seems internal. "dismiss", perhaps?}

thought that he had some connection to the monstrous form that 
had risen in the sky.  

     And Mousse?  Who could know where he had gone.  He was the 

gone?

wind now, and had become something that she both mourned and
feared.  

     There wasn't really anything to say.  Not that any of them

anything else to say. {?}

wanted to be here, really, any more than he did... Watcher's Hill
had rid her of any belief that battle could be glorious.  But 

{Hmm. One inglorious battle doesn't necessarily mean there's never any
glory in battle, does it? Of course, Shampoo may think that anyway; she
tends to be more comfortable with absolutes...}

     He nodded once, and put down the second completed arrow.

{Er... before it was "a pile of arrows". The image I got was more than,
well, one... or do you mean the second arrow he'd completed while she
was watching?}

     With a shrug, he finished another arrow, his attention
turned away from her again.  Shampoo looked up at the night sky, 
in time to see something star-bright moving overhead, and somehow
she knew that it was neither star nor plane, nor any other thing
entirely of the earth or of the heavens.

{Hm. I wonder what the Joketsuzoku -- or any people who are familiar
with the sky but not with current events -- think of artificial
satellites. Some of them are pretty bright... and they move like nothing
else in the sky.}

     Close to panic, Nabiki looked from Kodachi to Kasumi.  "I
don't understand."

     "Do not understand, then," Kodachi said coolly.  "Only 
ride."
     
     They rode.

{Nabiki must just HATE being this much out of control. Even in the hands
of friends, they're friends who are strange to her, and whose sudden
power must be frightening. I fear this will trigger Nabiki's worst
impulses: what will she do for the illusion of security?}

Something in Yan's eyes told her that he was wavering upon the 
edge of sanity, that he was very close to cracking.  Whether he'd 
be more or less dangerous after that, she couldn't say.

{Very nice. Sometimes your ability to describe these crazies makes me
nervous, though. :) }

He would finish one cigarette, grind it out beneath his heel, and 
light another.  He must have smoked almost a dozen before they 
stopped in a narrow section of the pass, between two boulders 
that size of small houses that served to let only two people 

the size

walking abreast pass through.  

     They stopped, and he turned around to face them.  "Baazel
wanted you dead," he said softly, and Nodoka knew that he was
speaking most of all to her.  "For that, and that alone, I have
made you live.  But it is only delaying the inevitable."

{suggest} let you live. {or perhaps} prevented your death.

     "Your son is gone.  There is only Baazel now."

{Liar.  Never believe evil.}

     The Guide was a small man, but his strength was surprising

{Hmm... I don't think of the Guide as "small"; he's short, but quite
stocky. I notice that he's a lot bigger in the anime than the manga,
though. Strange.}

as he took her arms and half-lifted her to her feet.  "We go now.
Think of what your son would want."

     "You look as if you have been through much, travellers," he
said gently.  "Fear not.  We of the Musk shall not harm you.  
This is as good a place as any to wait for our king.  So we shall
wait, and you shall tell us what you know of what transpires to
the south."

{Yay!  More cavalry!}

     Wind scuttled between the Teeth of the Dragon, keening in

{"scuttled"? That makes me think of many legs; suggest "swirled"
instead...}

the narrow passage.  There was no answer, not even the vaguest
urgings?  Had the master abandoned him for defying Baazel?

     "How long?"
     
     He let his humanity melt and flow away like wax, until he
stood in the pass in the new body he had been given, hairless and
scaled.  He cried out to the wind and stars, and heard no answer
back.

     Finally, he snatched up his sword and walked away to the
south.     

{Huh. Leaving the pass unguarded? Verrrry interesting. Sounds like Yan
has less confidence in his master than he was able to inspire in
Yoko...}

     Yan would be the second.  Perhaps Shouzin after that - he
was not sure of the Traitor had grown too far from him in all the

not sure if the Traitor had {or is it}
not sure of the Traitor who had {?}

long windings of the centuries.

     His bolt flew wide of the black shape, and struck the cavern
ceiling.  Stone cracked and head-sized boulders fell like rain,
rattling off the ground, plunging into the water or striking the
body of the dragon with dull, metallic sounds.  The raven landed
in the silky golden hair of the dragon's mane.

{Yay!  Shiso!}

     The Warmother turned on Xanovere.  "My love..."

{suggest} turned to {as "turned on" has connotations of betrayal...}
     

     On the dragon's head, the raven spread his wings, and spoke 

wings and

a true name, launching himself into flight even as he did.  
Baazel's attack scorched him into a drifting cloud of black
feathers even as the left syllable left his beak, but it was too
late.

{Ack! Not again! Man, Shiso's stunt double is getting a workout from
this script...}

     The words echoed in the cavern like the fading peal of a
bell, and Xanovere's eyes cleared.  His face cracked with grief,
and tears rolled down his face.  "Light and lady and life," he
whispered.  "What have I done?"

{Well, at least Shiso didn't die in vain... sniffle.}

     Baazel screamed, turning and throwing a blast that would
have annihilated both of them together.  The Warmother raised her
hand and it parted around her open palm.  "Kill him, fool!" he 
howled.  The idiot bitch hadn't realized what was going on, damn 
her.

{suggest} her!

     Xanovere looked around, and peace fell across his 
countenance.  "Lady of sacrifices," he whispered.  "At long last, 
I return myself to thee."

     The Gekkaja blade swept up, and he laid his own throat open
from ear to ear.  Even as he did that, he reached up and ripped
free the Dragon Crown that had been bound to his forehead for
four millennia.  He seemed to fall as slowly as if he were 
swimming through waters.  His knees crumpled, his body pitched
forward, and he fell face-first to the ground.  Blood hit the
stone floor of the cavern like rain.  The Warmother cried out, 
distracted for a moment, and in his rage Baazel flung her across 
the cavern and into a wall with a wave of his hand.  

{Waters.  Rain.  Even wave.  Nice.}

     The brothers were dead now.  Both of them.  And that 
meant...

     Again my power is returned to me.  

{Heheheh.  That's not Baazel.  That's the Dragon.  Heheheh.}

     He turned, unable to resist.  The voice of the dragon spoke
like his own thoughts.  Her eyes were open, aching blue.  All 
the oceans were in there, swallowing him up, him and Ranma
Saotome both, down into the sea.

{Somebody's about to get a lesson in true power.  Banzai.  :) }

     Now you belong to all of us, it said.  You shall see.  And
he too shall tempt you, and he knows well the ways of temptation.

     And he opened his eyes and saw.

{The surreal, kaleidoscopic blurring of this passage is very effective
at evoking the deeps of time and the retracing of lives.}

     The archers launched another flurry of arrows.  Akane, she
knew, was among them; twisted monsters died, feathered with 
shafts.  

{A lot of people forget that Akane's not just a decent unarmed martial
artist; she's good at archery and kendo, and probably other things not
shown explicitly.}

     Once, twice, three times she struck the mountainside with
her fingers.  She had done it before, strategically, weakening it
in the right places in the time she'd had.  And it worked; a few
pebbles at first, and then boulders, and then slabs the size of
houses, until the walls of the pass began to fall like rain upon
the monsters, burying them.  She ran away from the devastation,
barely escaping being swept along, weeping.

{Old, old trick, even older than gunpowder.}

     My love, my love is dead

{I would put an emdash after "dead"-- but you know what you want. Nice
device to segue into the next scene in any case, especially repeated as
it is.}

     She was at the centre of the mass, controlling the motions
of the army by her will.  Around her, a dozen elite mages of the 
Circle provided her guard.  Yamiko had long ago been lost to the

{suggest} served as her guard.
 

     Again, she thought of her children.  They would conquer 
here, annihilate the ancient foes of the master, and then sweep
over the world.  And it would be time for vengeance, to level the
cities of those who had murdered her children.  How little they
had been on her thoughts in these past few years, only to return
now... How close she had come to forgetting her own desires in 
the joy of service to the Dark...

{Oho.  Evil turns upon itself.}

     Killed another, and watched the winged body fall towards the
ground.  The slim blade hidden in his cane was dark with blood, 
the blood of his former people.  He had left them behind, gone to
walk now with the Dark in the light rather than in the shadows.  
And what allies he fought with now!  The Souleaters, and the
Undying, most beloved of the King of Ashes.  Surely he would be
rewarded with youth again, as he'd been promised, when all this
was done.

{Dream on.  :> }

     They were outnumbered in the air, but he was smarter,
leading his force of effective, albeit hideous, winged troops 
against the Phoenix.  He knew well the tactics of his people, and
they were killing more than they lost.  Somewhere in the chaos
was Kima; he had glimpsed her far away once, bearing the Kinjakan
as a symbol, perhaps - there was no way she could be using it as
a weapon.

{Famous last words.  :) }

     She and her troops struck from behind, with spear and sword
and bow, killing half of the Joketsuzoku's attackers in a single

{To solve Gary's problem, suggest "assailants" rather than "attackers".}

pass.

air to avoid the blow.  A storm of arrows from the Joketsuzoku
ripped through the combat, killing a single Souleater and a
half-dozen of the... things; she could not think of them as human 
any longer.  Her troops began to route the rest, but she and

rout

Shouzin were on the fringes of the combat.

     As she spun back from another pass at Shouzin, she saw it
coming out of the corner of her eye.  It had the wings of a bat,
and the face of dog, but its insane eyes were entirely human.

face of a dog,
  

     The ring of the Kinjakan returned to its place at the end of
the staff.  Which she was currently weakly pressing against
Shouzin's chest.  It was not especially pleasant in any way, but
it brought a smile to her face as the Traitor plunged screaming 
and dying from the ledge, dragging the Kinjakan from her hands as
he did.

{*Vince waves "Go Kima!" cheering fans*}

     Two Joketsuzoku died with a stroke of her hands, including
the one he'd saved moments earlier.  The shadows poured into 
their mouths and nostrils like oil, and they felt gasping and 

fell, gasping {?}

choking for a few seconds before lying still in the blood-slick 
dust of the pass.

     A shadow fell over him, some great shape approaching through
the air.  He turned, and thought: something this monstrous _has_ 
to be on our side,

{Wrong!  Yeeha!  :) }

 and then a fist big enough to engulf a 
full-grown man smashed him between itself and the sides of the 
pass.

{*Vince waves "Go Tarou!" cheering fans*}

     "Onward!" Herb cried.  He raised his hand, and a blast of 
power smote the first of the enemy to fall to the Musk that day.  
"For the glory and honour of the Musk Clan, and the memory of 
the Tribe of the Dragon!"

{*Vince waves "Go Musk!" cheering fans*}

     Now he saw her.  A pale woman, surprisingly small, riding

{suggest} her: a pale
 

one of the monstrous steeds.  There were others around her, all
in robes of many colours.

{suggest} all clad in robes of various colors.

     "Very well, then," the man said.  His eyes, a sharp, nearly 
electric blue, were narrowed and hateful.  "You send my death to
me at last, my lord?  Think you I shall flee like a dog before 
it?  I shall kill it, and wrest it away.  I have no master now."

     With a snarl, he rushed at Herb, sword raised, and the 
young prince raised his own blade to defend himself.  And even as 
the combat whirled around them, the two of them seemed to stand 
alone against each other.

{Uh oh.}

     "She's there."
     
     From their perch on the ridge, high above an to the south of

above and to
 

the pass, Ukyou and Konatsu watched the battle, and tried to come 
up with some plan of action.

     Cologne turned her head as Tarou's familiar shape, monstrous 
and shaggy, landed on the ground nearby.  In his arms, there was
a crumpled white body, small and childlike in appearance cradled 
as it was against his massive chest.  He lowered Kima's still 
form gently to the ground and lowed mournfully.

{Hmm.  Tarou and Kima?  Hmm.  :) }

     Yes, something whispered.  Arms cradled him.  My warrior, my
killer, my little sweet son.  You need no name.  They shall give
you many names, those who fear you, as they have given me many,
and until the end of time we shall slay and slay, slay all that
lives in the heavens above, or on the earth beneath, or in the
waters under the earth.  Together, you and I.  We are the lost
ones, the forsaken, those who are alone forever.  

{Heh. Between that and what the Dragons gave him, the choice is pretty
easy... evil's being stupid again.  :) }

Nodoka appeared to be watching the battle, but she would
occasionally turn her eyes away, lost in thought - about Ranma,
no doubt.  He'd gotten them all involved in some dangerous
things before, but this, she thought with a sour humour, 
certainly was the winner of them all.  And he'd apparently gone
insane as well.  Wonderful.

{Oh, Nabiki.  How petty that view is.}

     And some, perhaps, had already gone through something worse
than death.  Kuno was sitting by himself, cross-legged, uncaring
about anything else.  Blinded and maimed, and all because he'd
come to help her.  She wanted to go to him, as she had in the
pit, but she couldn't.  It wasn't the same, there were too many
people around...

{Bad mistake.}

     "You are my daughter, and I should be able to forgive you.
But... what you did dishonours yourself and me.  I cannot."

{Argh. Bad, bad timing, Soun. It had to be said, but not there, not
then, and not in that way.}

     A name.  
     
     Akane.

{The strong thread...}

     No.  No illusion.  Even the warp and weft of time is not 
beyond us now, the voices said; the dragons, all three of them.  
We have sent you back.  Slay him, and Wurdsenlin will never fall, 
Tang Jin will never die.  Slay him, champion, and you shall be as
we are, gods, beyond good and evil.

{Uh... that can't really be the dragons, can it? It doesn't sound like
their style.}

     The child looked up.  There were tears upon his face.
     
     Ranma let his hand fall.  He stepped forward, and reached
out with his other hand.  "Come on," he said gently.  "Come on,
I'm not going to hurt you.  I'm not going to leave you alone
here.  You aren't alone.  None of us are alone.  Not even you."

{That's Ranma. Always give a defeated enemy a chance. Always try to turn
enemies into friends, in your own ineptly effective way.}

     So, at last, it had come to this.  Perhaps this was the end
of his own long journey, the thing which he had been destined to
do.  He had seen the battles, and suffered with them all; not
only his friends, but his foes as well.  He had been Baazel, and
Baazel had been him.  There was no hate left in his heart any
longer; only grief for the sufferings of all things.  We are all 
of us wounded, he thought sadly, and raised the Gekkaja in his 
hands.  Now, he would do what must be done.     

{Ahhh.  And this is a weapon Ranma knows well how to use.}

>From the service of Tang Jin he had gone to Baazel, and then from

{ >From gotcha again... silly mailer.}
 

death to the service of Dark, and now at his end he would serve 
no one but himself.

{...and how does he do that?  Sad.}

     High above the carnage of the battle, two sisters stood
watching.  They were not sisters to each other; not, at least, 
as most would reckon things.  One was eldest, and one was 
youngest.

{She who was Kasumi, and is now (at least partly) the Dragon of Life,
and she who was Kodachi, and is now the Dragon of Death, yes? My
goodness, I can just see those two, suddenly not looking silly at all.
Applause.}

     Eldest said, "It is done."
     
     Youngest said, "Are you afraid?"
     
     Eldest said, "Yes.  I am very afraid."
     
     Youngest said, "So am I."
     
     And so they held each other's hands, and waited.

Eeek!

Nicely-done battle scenes, particularly the one between Kima and
Shouzin. The chaos and fury of large-scale combat is well depicted. I
had to turn the contrast down on my visualizer a bit. :)

Waiting (patiently, mind you) for the next chapter-- thanks for writing
and sharing!

Vince Seifert    Network Analyst     seifertv@csus.edu
Techie: http://webpages.csus.edu/~seifertv/
Fanfic: http://www.csus.edu/indiv/s/seifertv/toth/
CSUS hired me to build their LANs, not to give away the homeworld.