I'd like to apologize for any OOCness on the part of Sylia. No matter how 
hard I try, I can't seem to nail her. Wait. That came out wrong.

A lime (possibly bordering on lemon) tag applies here.

Beyond that I'd just like to beg, plead, and grovel for C&C, I need it so I 
have something besides jam to put on my toast. All I can promise is that I'll 
do the same for one of your fics down the road. Just let me know which one.

BGC2040 and the Phantom are copyrighted by their respective owners, no money 
is being made (much as I might wish otherwise) from this and should be viewed 
as being for entertainment only. 

-Komodo

Today's Fortune Cookie:
Erotic is with a feather
Kinky is with the whole chicken.
*****************
Saber HQ 1201am

"Nice gun," Priss noted. Guran inclined his head in acknowledgment of the 
compliment.

"The Phantom and his Chosen," he repeated. "Where are they?"

"Chosen?" Nene asked, obviously confused. 

"As in wife, Nene," Sylia said with a smile. The strange man's question had 
just answered most of hers. "Linna is the Phantom's bride."

"Huh?" It took Nene a few moments longer to reach the same conclusion. "But 
Kit's immortal. . .isn't he?"

"Not precisely. But everyone thinks he is, and that's what had us blinded. 
The Phantom isn't a person, he's a legacy. A title passed from father to son, 
like a car, or a piece of jewelry."

"What does that have to do with Linna?!" Nene demanded.

"Linna will be the mother of the next Phantom. I suspect that after five 
hundred years, the Phantom has taken on a life of his own. It takes a special 
sort of woman to be the mother of a living ghost. Linna apparently fits the 
list of requirements, whatever those are." 

Nene's mouth formed into a frown. "But doesn't she get a say in this?"

"I doubt it, though I'm sure she'll be very happy once she gets used to the 
idea."

"How could you say that?!" Nene demanded. "Linna's going to be hauled off 
somewhere to be a. . .a brood mare for some crazy family legacy! Hell, once 
the kid pops out, she'll probably be killed to protect the big secret!" Sylia 
shook her head, her expression a secretive smile.

"A possibility, but hardly one that has been thought completely through."

"And you have another possibility that has been?" Nene glared and crossed her 
arms. "I can't wait to hear this."

"Think about it, Nene. If the mother of each Phantom was killed, it would be 
against everything the Phantom seems to stand for. No, far better to bind 
them spiritually together and trust in that."

"Metaphysics, Sylia?" Priss asked.

"My parents kept a well-stocked library," Sylia replied as she turned back to 
Guran. "Oh. I almost forgot. The young man standing behind you with the gun 
to your head is Mackey, my brother." Guran's turned his head to look.

"How-" Guran started and then broke off, muttering something in another 
language. 

"And now, Mr. Guran," Sylia continued. "If you would be so kind as to hand 
over any other weapons you might be carrying, you may join us for a late 
dinner. I believe Henderson was making a beef and noodle dish."

Later, as everyone was filing out, Nigel pulled Sylia aside.

"What are you doing Sylia? He breaks in and you invite him to dinner? And why 
did you grab those two cops?"

"I didn't grab them, Priss did. Though Priss being Priss, she's refused to 
say why. As for Guran, I'm being pragmatic." He looked at her, one eyebrow 
raised in surprise. "The legend of the Phantom states that the first Phantom 
was found by an African tribe. Logic dictates that Guran is almost certainly 
one of that tribe's descendants. Without them, I doubt the Phantom would have 
lasted this long. Think of the resources they must have access too." 

"And the things they've done to keep the Phantom a legend," Nigel replied. "I 
wouldn't doubt that a few murders have been committed to keep this kind of 
secret."

"I don't care. I'll make a deal with the devil if that's what it takes. I 
will find and destroy her, Nigel. No matter what."

***************
Somewhere inside Saber HQ
1220 am

"Will you sit down?" Wong asked as Leon paced back and forth like a caged 
animal.

"How can I sit?" Leon demanded.  "We're prisoners! We should be thinking 
about escape."

"Perhaps," Wong agreed. "However, as far as jail cells go, this is a rather 
nice one." Privately, Leon had to admit Wong had a point. The room was about 
the size of a medium sized bedroom. The floor was carpeted, and two deeply 
upholstered couches sat against the walls. Facing each other. 

Wong had taken off his shoes and was stretched out on the couch on the left 
hand side of the room. His glasses had been tucked into a pocket and he 
seemed intent on grabbing a nap. "And besides, Leon," Wong continued in a 
pointed tone. "They took our guns."

"And put us in here!"

"In a comfortable room," Wong corrected. "I suspect this is just to keep us 
from wandering where we're not supposed to."

"How can you be so calm?"

"Because if I worried, it would only use up energy I might need later. 
Besides, if they were planning to kill us, chances are they would have done 
so by now."

"Yeah, well, you'd think they could at least feed us something!"

As though on cue, the door opened, revealing an elderly, white-haired man in 
a black suit pushing a dinner cart. Leon started to get up and rush the guy 
but was stopped as Wong raised his hand in a signal. 

"Excuse me, sirs," the man said. "But dinner is ready."

"Thank you," Wong said. "It smells delicious."

"Thank you, sir," the man replied and left.

"A butler?" Leon asked as Wong lifted the tray cover and inhaled the aroma of 
the food.

"Why not?" Wong said. "The Knight Sabers have to be incredibly well-funded 
and that takes money. Whoever is backing them must be very rich." Picking up 
a pair of fine porcelain chopsticks, he clicked them together twice. "Keep 
your cool, Leon. Let's find out what's going on before trying any heroics."

Leon muttered something under his breath and then sat down opposite Wong and 
started looking for another set of chopsticks.

***************
The Med Bay

2am

'The ceiling looks funny'

Everyone thinks something different when they first wake up. 

'And what the hell is that beeping noise?'

For Kit, it was two thoughts, one on the heels of the other. A moment later, 
memories of the previous day came rushing back and Kit let out a groan.

A soft moan from the left attracted his attention, and turning to look, he 
saw Linna lying on a hospital bed. She was turned onto her side, one arm 
hanging off the edge, a slight smile on her face.

'She looks like an angel,' Kit thought to himself and slowly sat up, wincing 
as his muscles protested and took stock of the situation. He was in a 
hospital room of some kind and aside from the sheet, and his forearm 
bracelets, which were unremovable unless he was dead, he was naked. Well, 
that was easily remedied. Stroking the surface of the right bracelet, causing 
the nanites to swarm over him, he clothed himself in his street clothes. 
Tugging his sleeves down over the bracelets, he turned to look at Linna and 
found that she was staring at him, open hostility in her eyes.

"Um, hi?" Kit ventured.

"What the hell did you do to me?" she asked, her voice very soft. Kit stared 
at her blankly. 

"Do to you?"

"Yes, to me. Ever since we woke up in your hotel room, I haven't been able to 
think straight, stay focused, or go five minutes without thinking of you!"

"I didn't do nothing, I swear!"

"Bullshit!" Linna shouted, yanking the gold band on her finger off and 
throwing it at him. "Leave me alone! Just leave me alone!" she screamed as 
ran out.

"Wait! Linna!" Kit shouted and pausing only to grab the ring off the floor, 
he ran after her. "Oh, God. Please, Linna, wait!"

*******************
By the time Kit caught up to Linna, she was on the roof, sitting on some sort 
of conduit near the edge of the roof, staring out at the city. Behind and 
below them, was a courtyard and the penthouse. To the left, a tube, eight 
feet in diameter, and some twelve feet in height rose from the roof. To the 
right was the stairs leading back down and a walkway that ran along the top 
of the roof to the other side where he could make out some sort of aircraft 
that was hidden under a tarp.

"Linna?" He asked, stopping at what he hoped was a respectable distance.

"Go, away," she said. "How clear do I need to make it? I want to be alone. 

"But I just want to talk-"

"I don't want to talk! Not to anyone, and certainly not to some immortal 
lunatic."

"But I'm not immortal-it's a family legacy-I-"

"I don't care! Go away, Kit! Run on back to America and play vigilante. I 
became a Knight Saber because I wanted to be one, not because my family did!"

"I'm not the Phantom because of my family." Kit's voice was soft. "I had no 
interest in being the Phantom when I first found out about it. Even after I 
let myself get talked into being the Phantom, I still was planning on giving 
it up eventually. Then something happened."

"What?" Linna asked. Something in Kit's voice had sparked her interest. "What 
happened that made you change your mind?" Slowly, he sat down next to her and 
handed her a picture. It was a woman, a bit of whipped cream on her nose, s
miling at the camera.

"Her name was Sagan Cruz. She was a cop. It was her life, her reason for 
getting up in the morning. We were. . .close, though she never found out 
about the Phantom. Didn't care for him actually."

"What happened to her?"

"There was this guy named Jak. Doctor Jak. He was a vidjock with a huge 
popularity rating and an ego to match. To stay on top, he would pull stunts 
that were wilder and more dangerous then any of his rivals. Eventually, when 
people started dying, the network pulled the show and Jak vowed revenge. He 
developed a transmitter that worked only on people with a certain type of 
body chemistry; those going through puberty. Three-quarters of New York's 
teens saw the broadcast, got turned into zombies, and showed up at the 
network's headquarters. They marched into the building and headed straight 
for the president's office, killing anything that moved." Kit stood up and 
walked to the edge of the roof, staring down into the lights of the city. 
"The building boasted one of the most powerful transmitters in the world. 
Jak's plan was to hook his device into it and broadcast his signal not only 
across the world but into the orbital platforms as well."

"My God!" Linna gasped. "He could have controlled every teenager in the 
world."

Kit nodded. "That was the plan. Of course, being a Vidjock, he made a show 
out of it. Grandstanding and making speeches. Meanwhile, Sagan had disguised 
herself as a teenager and worked her way in. Just as Jak was about to throw 
the switch, Sagan rushed him and they both fell off the building. One 
thousand, two hundred and twenty three stories, straight down. I was away at 
the time and when I found out, I quit. As irrational as it was, I blamed my 
being the Phantom for her death. 

But the more I thought about her, the more I missed her, and the more I 
missed her, the more I thought about her."

"So what happened?" Despite herself, Linna was caught up in the story, her 
anger forgotten.

"About a week after her funeral, I had a dream. Sagan was in it and we 
talked. She made me understand my responsibilities, that the Phantom legacy 
was more then I could ever believe. It was a verbal butt-kicking and the very 
next day I visited her grave." His hand slowly clenched into a fist, the gold 
band on his left ring finger glinting in the light cast by the rest of the 
city. "I loved her, Linna. . .and over her grave, I vowed I would make her 
proud of me." He turned back to face her. "That's why night after night, I 
put on the suit and risk my life. Because she had enough faith in me to reach 
out to me from the Beyond. I won't. . .I can't let her down." He sighed. 
"I'll leave you alone now." He started to leave when Linna spoke, her tone 
freezing him in his tracks. 

"His name was Hammoto." Her voice was soft and even. "He was an upperclassman 
at my high school. I was fifteen and in the full grip of adolescent hormones. 
He was everything I dreamed of, it was like finding a treasured toy from your 
childhood. For six months, it was like being battered by a volcanic eruption. 
We did everything together and I started silently referring to us as Mr. and 
Mrs. Yamazaki.
Then, on our six month anniversary, we were out behind my parent's house and. 
. .I. . .I gave myself to him. " She laughed harshly. "Hell, I figured we 
were married in all the ways that counted anyways, so why not?

The next day, I saw him with another girl on his arm and when I demanded an 
explanation, he informed me that we were through since he had gotten what he 
wanted out of the relationship. I was crushed and it was months before I 
could even bring myself to look at boys, much less date them. I guess that's 
why I've been so angry at you. Because I'm attracted to you so deeply, so 
totally and completely, that it's unreal. I keep feeling like I've found 
something I lost, just like with Hammato, only much more intense, like being 
inside the Big Bang." She looked up at him. 

"I need time, Kit. I need time to be sure, because I can't let myself be hurt 
like that again." Kit moved to stand before her and taking her hand, pulled 
her to him, wrapping his arms about her. For a moment, she was stiff and 
unyielding and then she relaxed somewhat and leaned against him, resting her 
head on his chest.

"Take all the time you need," he said. 'Because I can't let you be hurt like 
that again either.'

**************
Dining Hall, 245am

"Tell me, Ms. Stingray," Guran said as he set aside the chopsticks. "How did 
your brother get behind me without me seeing him?"

"The same way you got past our security system without setting it off," Sylia 
replied, taking a sip of her wine. Guran laughed. They were alone in the 
dining hall, Nigel, and Mackey having long since gone to bed while Nene and 
Priss had gone to get whatever information out of Wong and MacNichol's 
palmtops before dumping them somewhere. The drug Henderson had slipped into 
their food having worked its magic by now. Sylia wasn't worried about her 
safety, Guran turning on her had been prepared for.

"Touch�, Ms. Stingray." And as though he had passed a hand in front of his 
face, his expression hardened. "But enough small talk. What do you want from 
me?"

"Want?"

"You wouldn't have invited me to dinner unless you had an ulterior motive."

"Very perceptive," Sylia said. "I-" she broke off as the door opened and Kit 
and Linna stood there, standing shoulder to shoulder, but not hand in hand.

"Are we too late for dinner?" Kit asked.
**************
Tokyo Airport Hanger 5,  am

Guran sighed as he watched the first light of false dawn appear on the 
horizon and took another sip of his coffee. No matter how hard he tried, he 
could not sleep. There were too many unanswered questions. 

All his life, he had trained. Trained to serve. He had served. Served well, 
and without question. But now he had questions. Lots of questions.

Sylia Stingray was well known to the Bandar. Her. . .condition even more so. 
He shook his head and walked back inside the hanger's depths. He wasn't 
ready, but Kit had to know about the rest of the Phantom's legacy and what it 
entailed.

The questions about Ms. Yamazaki rose up again. 

Why would someone who would willingly serve a person like Stingray be Chosen?

How could Great Nekoaluri make such a huge mistake?

**************
A.D. Police HQ, Warehouse #3, 9am

Nene sighed as she let the pieces fall from her fingers onto the floor. She 
never should have mentioned her electronics skills on her resume when she 
applied to the A.D. Police. 

She had been perfectly happy in Dispatch, and then a couple of rookie A.D.P. 
cops on patrol had, by accident, caught the Bayshore Strangler, a 
thirty-something loser who had been using a boomer to bring in his victims. 
That had netted the A.D. Police a big fat chunk of money when they discovered 
that the Strangler had a profitable Satyr lab on the side and about half a 
ton of gold bars from World War 2 which had been hidden by several members of 
Tokyo's elite who wanted to hide their fortunes when the Americans invaded.

Of course the invasion they were so scared of hadn't happened, but since they 
had all been in Hiroshima when the bomb dropped, there had been nobody around 
afterwards to claim the gold.

What it all amounted too was a big fat chunk of change for the city and 
public praise for the A.D.P.

Standing, she crossed the warehouse to where a pile of parts lay and sitting 
cross-legged on the floor, began to try and piece a pile of electronic 
components together.

Of course, all this just had to happen in an election year.

Enter one Kennchi Hiro, City Councilman. Young, eager, and falling behind in 
the race for Mayor. Seeing a last chance, he hops onto the pro A.D.P. 
bandwagon and rides it all the way to City Hall. When he got there, he took 
all the money from the Strangler Case, and used it to create a Electronics 
Division (E.D.)branch for the A.D.P., and rewrote their charter to give them 
broader authority. 

That meant everyone in the A.D.P with electronics skills, which basically was 
her and two guys in Maintenance, was transferred to this new department and 
then given the title of detectives. 

To complicate matters was regulation one twenty-three paragraph 8B: "When on 
duty, all field officers (which included those in E.D.,) must be armed as 
described under Section two."

In a nutshell, what section two meant was the .38 semi-automatic in the 
holster under her left arm.

It was heavy, and the butt kept poking her in the armpit, which was annoying 
her to no end. Frustrated, she pulled the .38 and aimed at the parts on the 
floor before her.

"No jury in the world would convict me," she muttered.

"Wires giving you trouble?" came Leon's voice and Nene jumped.

"Don't sneak up on me like that!" Nene yelled, whirling to face him.

"Hey! Watch where you point that thing!" Leon yelled.

"Huh?" Then she realized she still had the gun in her hand. "Sorry," she said 
and holstered it.

Or tried to.

"Aw come on!" she yelled. "Are you mad at me or somethin?"

"Nene," she looked up as Leon laid his hand on her arm. "Would you like some 
help?"

"Please," she said and handed him the .38. "Feed this to a trash compactor."

"I meant with your holster," he said, handing the .38 to Wong.

"Huh? What's wrong with my holster?"

"Take off your jacket and raise your arms." Nene did as he instructed.

"Watch those hands, buster," she growled as he reached for the straps.

"Do you want help or not?" Nene hmphed but kept her arms raised. "The 
problem," he said clinically, "is that you buckled it the way its supposed 
to,  but you forgot to adjust it for your body shape."

"But Takahashi said it was a unisex harness," Nene protested.

"It is, but it's buckled all wrong. Its set to fit a person of medium build 
and you're of small build. Did it seem loose when you first put it on?"

"Yeah, so I adjusted the shoulder straps."

"Uh-huh. That's your problem, the shoulder straps were fine, but the belt 
across your back was what needed adjusting. You should always ask one of the 
street cops the first time out. . .why are you armed anyway?"

"Haven't you been paying attention lately?" Wong asked, pushing his glasses 
up. "When Mayor Hiro created the E.D. for the A.D.P., the G.O.C. had to do a 
little P.R.A. to staff it. Since she's now a F.O., she's required to be 
armed."

"Oh."

"You should pay more attention, Leon-poo," Wong chided as Leon finished.

"You too?" Leon asked, turning to look at his partner.

"It keeps you on your toes," Wong replied as he handed Nene her gun. "Try it 
now."

"Hey, it works!" Nene exclaimed as the gun slipped in and out easily.

"You had the holster too high is all. It should be worn towards the bottom of 
the rib cage."

"Thanks, Leon-poo!" Nene exclaimed, knowing how much he hated the nickname.

Leon opened his mouth to growl when both his and Wong's pagers went off. 
"Captain wants us," he said and both men left, leaving Nene to her puzzle.
**************
Hewgit Sales Division, 10am

Linna yawned as she stepped off the lift into the sales division. Earlier 
that week, some joker had hacked into the system and uploaded a computer 
virus that pasted a happy face on every screen and wiped out all sales data. 
The techs were calling it the "Smylex virus"

Fortunately, Linna had a habit shared by the senior salespeople of backing up 
her data and taking it home.

Now that the virus was wiped out, she could feed in the data and after that, 
the techs could finish proofing the system and tracking the hacker down. 
Moving to her workstation, she slid the disc in, tapped some keys, and 
dropped herself into the chair, daydreams of a bonus for being so well 
prepared filling her head as she rubbed the now bare ring finger of her left 
hand.

It ached for some reason.

**************
Tokyo University, 3pm

Linna glared at her palmtop. Tan wanted a 30 page report on 
building modern-day versions of classic medieval weapons. The catch was, they 
had to function exactly as they did back then. So if the catapult launched 
its cargo from a basket mounted on an arm, so did the new versions. "Assume 
modern building techniques and medieval weapons technology," she read aloud 
from the palmtop's screen. "Include fabrication techniques, crews and type of 
ammo. Cost effectiveness and efficiency are a must. Due in one week." 

Maybe she could distentigrate her feet and then PhysRehab would keep her from 
having to deal with the report. Nah, he'd just come up with something worse. 

"He's a boomer," she muttered to herself as she shoved the palmtop into her 
pocket. "He's some sort of sex boomer who was made for sadism and this is how 
he went rogue." She thought for a moment. "No, he made that damn manager 
boomer at work. Yeah, that's it. She's his creation and this is some sort of 
conspiracy to drive me insane!" With that, she kicked at a nearby trash can, 
knocking it over and drawing stares from other students. She didn't care, she 
felt better.

"Linna?" She turned. Kit was standing there, a cup in each hand.

"With all your talk about how Tan being such a sadist, I thought you might 
need this." He smiled at her and held out one of the cups. Linna took it and 
inhaled.

"Coffee," she breathed reverently and drank deep as though the cup was the 
Holy Grail. "What are you doing here?"

Kit's face took on a slightly pained expression. "After last night-er, this 
morning, I thought we should discuss things." He smiled and she felt her toes 
curl. "Your friends are very protective of you. Nene showed up at my hotel 
room this morning and after reading me the riot act threatened to do some. . 
.unpleasant things to me if I hurt you in any way."

Linna had to laugh at that. "That sounds like Nene all right." She blinked. 
"What's the riot act?"

"An expression," Kit replied, and the pained expression returned. "Would you 
like to take a walk with me? There's a couple of things I need to talk with yo
u about."

"Sure."

**************
T.U. Observation Tower, 4pm

Tokyo University was built in levels and towers with bridges built between 
them. Many of these bridges held buildings of their own and some buildings 
and towers were actually supports for other levels, which in turn, had their 
own buildings. Her father had once likened it to a madman's erector set, 
whatever that meant. But the crowning glory was the observation tower. Capped 
by a dome that held a giant satellite dish and other com gear, the deck below 
it was exactly one mile above sea level.

"You call this a walk?" Linna asked.

Kit shrugged. "I always did have a gift for understatement." He sighed. 
"Linna. . ."

"Yes?"

"I don't want to sound like I'm questioning your judgment. . ."

"Yes?"

He looked at her. "You are aware that Sylia Stingray is obsessive and insane, 
right? You do know that if you stay with her, you'll wind up getting killed?"

"I-" she broke off. "Yeah, I know. You can see it in her eyes when she gets 
emotional. There's this fire there." She tightened her grip on the cup of 
coffee. "But if I die, it will be because I'm doing something right. Isn't 
that why Sagan died? Why you wear the suit?" Kit visibly flinched when she 
said Sagan's name but otherwise said nothing. "We're insane too, Kit. Sane 
people don't do what we do. We do what many fear. We walk the edge." She let 
the coffee cup fall from her hands to spill on the floor as she slowly walked 
forward. "We're predators, Kit. We prey on the garbage that preys on those 
who can't help themselves."

Kit slowly backed away. He was afraid. Afraid of what he saw in her eyes 
because he saw it in his own whenever he looked in the mirror. There was a 
beast inside them. The black cat. And Linna had no way to control it.

". . .A jungle of trees," she was saying, as he reached the wall. "Or a 
jungle of glass and steel. Does it really matter? It calls to us." Her hands 
came up to his shirt, toying with the buttons. "It calls to us, demands us to 
do its bidding. We can't fight it, we accept it. I can feel it in me, Kit. Do 
you know what it wants? Can you feel the fire?" One by one, her fingers began 
to undo his buttons. "Violence, passion," she said softly. "Lust, the urge to 
kill. They are all the same."

"Linna," he groaned. "He could feel it, she was practically glowing with 
smoldering sexuality. It called to him, appealing to his baser instincts. The 
Triumvirate was absent, there was no balance. He thanked God that there was 
no one else up here to see this.

"Take me, Kit," she growled as she pulled her T-shirt up, revealing her 
breasts, twin globes of flesh restrained only by her bra from filling his 
hand. "Claim me. Make us one." She pulled him back, sitting on one of the 
cheap pusedowood tables, her hands clamped to the sides of his head as she 
pulled him close, her breath warm. All his senses were active, sharper then 
diamond. He could smell the coffee she had been drinking. Pulled against her 
like he was, he could feel her need, it pushed at him like waves against a 
cliff. Her eyes were dark with arousal, mirroring his own, he was sure. God, 
he wanted to give in. His eyes darted around, resting on a closed up ramen 
stand in the corner. He had an electronic pick in his bracelet and the lock 
was probably had a static code. Ten seconds at most and then they could-

No.

"Linna," he said, pushing her back, pulling her hands away from his head, his 
greater muscle mass overcoming her hormone-boosted strength. "Listen to me, 
Linna. Take control-Damnit I know you're in there!" He grabbed her shoulders 
and shook her. "Fight it! You can do it!" The minutes ticked agonizingly by 
but finally, rationality returned. 

"What the hell happened?" she demanded.

"Kit sighed. "That's the other thing I wanted to talk to you about. . ." He 
gestured for her to sit at one of the tables. "The Phantom is more then just 
a costumed identity. It's. . .a spirit. I'm not sure where it comes from, but 
it's one third of a Triumvirate."

"Triumvirate?"

"The Phantom, the spirit of the Ghost Jungle, and a woman joined in marriage 
with the Phantom, create a focal point of power. It manifests in different 
ways, but only the forming of those specific factors allows the Phantom to 
call on those powers." Kit stared out at the skyline of Tokyo. "When we got 
married, the Ghost Jungle's spirit, Nekoaluri, which manifests as a black 
jaguar, was called into both of us, binding us together and. . .our honeymoon 
sealed it. But, because certain rituals were not performed during the 
ceremony, it is running unchecked inside you, and because we're bound, me, as 
well."

"So that's why I keep going into these hormone driven rages?"

Kit nodded. "Unlike most inhabitants of this planet, humans are almost 
always. . .'constantly in the mood'." He blushed. So as far as the spirit is 
concerned, in the mood means its mating season and. . ."

"And it drives us to mate," Linna finished. She looked at Kit. "What are you 
not telling me?"

"Remember what I said about how the third portion of the Triumvirate is a 
woman?" She nodded.

"Its not just any woman, its the one Nekoaluri has picked to be the mother of 
the next Phantom and the Phantom's soul mate."

Linna was dead silent for a moment as she made the same connections Sylia had 
and then. . .

"WHAT THE HELL DO YOU MEAN 'THE MOTHER OF THE NEXT PHANTOM AND THE PHANTOM'S 
SOUL MATE'?!!!!" She bellowed shooting to her feet and grabbing Kit's shirt.

"Uh. . ."

"Are you telling me," Linna said quietly, "that some spirit has decided that 
the choice of who I will marry is its decision and while its at it, decided 
that my child is going to be next in line to run around saving the world?"

Kit's expression was all the confirmation she needed and she unleashed what 
her schoolmates had come to call the "Yamazaki Special." It was a left hook 
that was guaranteed to put virtually anyone on their back. "Bastard," she 
said as she gathered her books and left.

"Well, she took that better then I thought," Kit mumbled as he got to his 
feet. Rolling back his sleeve, he took a compressed cold pack from his 
bracelet and applied it to where she had hit him. Then, with his free hand, 
he took a phone from his pocket and hit the speed dial.

"Guran. Its Kit. I need to talk to the Elders."

******************
Knight Sabers HQ, Two Hours later.

"And then I decked him and came here," Linna finished and reached for her 
drink. 

"So what are you going to do?" Nene asked quietly.

"I don't know. Everytime I learn more, its like another door opens in my 
mind. I can feel it, it calls me, urging me to do things. It wants me to give 
in." She shuddered. "I was actually ready to have sex right then and there on 
the observation deck." She paused. "I still want him. All he's done and I 
still want him!" She threw the glass across the room. "I don't understand why 
this is happening to me!"

"Then we must talk to someone who does." Everyone turned to look at Sylia.

"Like who?"

"Guran's people, of course. You've both read the legend. The very first 
Phantom was found and molded by a African tribe."

"But how do we find them?" Nene asked.

"Logic," Sylia replied archly as she laid a map of Africa on the table. A 
portion was covered in a red blob. "Kit is the sole heir to the Walker family 
fortune, which is embodied in Walker International and has its world 
headquarters here, in Africa." She tapped the red blob. "The southwest 
portion is the W.I. compound and the diamond and gold mines that form the 
basis of W.I. The rest is the largest undeveloped expanse of land in the 
world. W.I. says that its a nature preserve, part of the contract that they 
made with the people who sold them the land in the first place."

"But why would anyone hold to an old contract like that?" Nene asked.

Sylia smirked. "Their PR people claim its because unlike others, W.I. holds 
to its commitments and keeps its promises. I think its because that 
undeveloped portion of land is the home of this spirit Linna mentioned.

"The Ghost Jungle?" Linna asked.

"Mmm-hmmm," Sylia said as she rolled up the map. "Nene, call Priss and tell 
her to get over here and then go suit up. Have Mackie and Nigel load the van 
with Priss and Linna's suits along with their tools and then have them pack." 
Her expression hardened.  "We're going to Africa and Walker and Guran are 
going to take us."

******************
"Are you sure about this, Kit?" Guran asked. 

Kit nodded. "Yeah, if its the only way to help her." He touched a control and 
his clothes glowed for a moment as the nanites rearranged themselves into the 
Phantom's costume. "I'll do whatever it takes to get Linna through this."

"Amazingly enough, so would we," said a mechanical voice from behind them. 
Kit spun, his blaster flying into his hand. Standing in the doorway was three 
armored figures. One blue, one white, and one red. The white armored figure 
stepped forward and raised its face plate, revealing Sylia Stingray. "We seem 
to have a mutual goal then."

"How did you find us?" Guran asked.

"Logic. The other night when the Phantom aided us against the bombers, he 
used a jet. According to Nene's suit camera recording, that jet was some 
eighteen meters from nose to tail, seven meters wide at the midpoint, not 
counting the wings, which I assume can either fold up against the body or 
retract into it and ten meters tall, not counting any landing gear. Because 
of its shape, such a craft would be instantly noticed, therefore, another 
craft must have been used to transport it. Such a craft would have to be at 
least two meters larger in height, length and width to accommodate it. A jet 
such as the Maximum Aerospace two-eighty-five, better known as the 'Party 
Pad.'"

"Those jets are in widespread service," Guran said. "Especially here in 
Tokyo."

"Ah," Sylia said with a smile. "But only one of those currently in Tokyo is 
registered to Walker International."

Guran was far too disciplined to allow his emotions to show on his face but 
Kit knew his friend well. The older man was doubtlessly kicking himself for 
making such an elementary mistake. Of course it wasn't his fault, neither of 
them had any intention of running into the Knight Sabers. But Guran was like 
that.

"So you've found us," Kit said, taking his finger off the blaster's trigger 
button but not holstering it. "Now what?"

"You're going to take us to Africa, and there, everything possible will be 
done so that Linna's. . .condition will be either. . .corrected or at least 
made controllable."

"Fair enough," Kit agreed.

"What? The Phantom is not answerable to you!"

"Guran." Something in Kit's voice made the older man stop. "They're right. 
Linna's state of mind is my fault. I was enjoying myself and ignored my 
common sense. I was going to take her to Africa for that reason anyway."

"Yes, but she is the Chosen. They are-"

"They are her friends," Kit said, cutting him off. "Besides, what about the 
Palmers?" Guran visibly flinched.

"Very well," he said reluctantly.

Sylia smiled. "Nene?" Moments later, an unmarked truck pulled into the hanger 
and Nigel, Mackie and Linna got out.

Guran looked at Kit and the younger man gave him a smile of sympathy. "Tell 
them it was my idea."

"You will have to leave the truck here," was all Guran said.

******************
Genom International Airpad. 8pm

Brian J. Mason, president of Genom stood inside the cargo bay of the 
transport craft. Before him, legion of combat boomers stood. In his research, 
he had discovered that there were legends of powerful spirits swirled around 
the so-called nature preserve that Walker International maintained in Africa. 
As if any company would let so much land just sit there just so a few animals 
and plants could live their useless lives. Among those legends were tales of 
a ghost who walked like man. When you put that together with the fact that 
Walker International was almost as old as the legends of the Phantom, it 
became obvious to anyone that the Phantom was W.I.'s corporate pawn.

"Fighting injustice, my ass," Mason said aloud. "More likely eliminating 
threats to the company."

"Yes, sir," his secretary said. No-she was far more then that. Mason turned 
and smiled at her.

"And somewhere in that filthy jungle is my prize," he said grabbing her chin. 
With his free hand, he stabbed the intercom button. "Take off."

"Yes, sir," came the voice of the pilot boomer. Almost immediately, the floor 
began to vibrate as the engines came to life.

"And as for you," Mason said as he ripped away the secretary boomer's blouse. 
"Kneel."

Admist the combat boomers, concealed inside his suit, Quincy Rosenkruz 
switched off the audio and video feeds. He had plans to make. Mason was 
fired, he just didn't know it yet.
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