*   *   *   *   *   *

    /March 4, '97/
    /Ran out of time last night, so I'll pick up pretty much where I left 
off.  Now, this next part I've had to piece together from stuff that happened 
later and general word on the street.  I'm not sure if it's accurate, but 
here goes nothing./

*   *   *   *   *   *

    The predator opened its eyes slowly, luxuriously, and peered around at 
its home.  The ocean was the perfect place for such a predator, and he sliced 
through the murky depths with ease.  It was the undisputed master of the 
oceans, and it knew it.  The liberating Virus that it had been infected with 
told it this, and it was proud of its status.  It also knew it's next target, 
a large city on the far side of the Pacific.
    Before the Apocalypse, it had been a mere man, and an American at that.  
The only redeeming trait the man had had was his ability to fight.  He had 
been the perfect human weapon, as far as his government had been able to 
train him.  He had been almost as lethal disarmed as he had been armed.  Had 
been.  Then, he Became.  After the Apocalypse, the man ceased to be Caramon 
O'conner, Lieutenant, First Class, of the Navy Seals and had become Riptide 
Shark, the perfect Reploid weapon.  The annihilation of San Francisco, 
attributed to the Apocalypse, was proof enough for him.  It was also his 
greatest accomplishment.
    Eager for another glorious kill, Riptide Shark shot through the ocean at 
an easy twenty knots.  He could go faster, but he contained himself.  The 
anticipation, he'd learned, was almost as good as the kill.  Silently, 
smiling a shark's grin, he shot towards Tokyo.  A day and a half, he 
estimated, would see him in harbor.
    He couldn't wait.

*   *   *   *   *   *

    /Riptide would prove to be a real bane to Ranma and my sister later, but 
more was happening than just him.  Ryoga had made it to a harbor somewhere on 
the other side of Japan, and hijacked a fishing boat.../

*   *   *   *   *   *

    Ryoga clutched the helm of the fishing boat with his single hand.  He had 
to kneel at the floor to fit his whole body into the tiny room, but he was 
determined.  He was resolved.
    Ranma would die.
    As soon as he could get repaired and rebuilt, Ranma was as good as dead.  
That red robot too, damn her.  He'd get them both.  It was only a matter of 
time, and not a very large one at that.
    China was only a day's hard sailing away.

*   *   *   *   *   *

    /Ryoga...  Somehow, I get the feeling that he and Ranma would've been 
friends if it hadn't been for the Apocalypse.  I wish I knew./
    /Goddamn it.  I'm wishing again./
    /Anyways, as if having Ryoga on the warpath wasn't enough.../

*   *   *   *   *   *

    Sigma alighted on the ice flats with nary a sound, his retros firing to 
provide a soft landing.  He'd lost his cloak in the flight, and stood in all 
his resplendent glory.  His body was sleek and streamlined, making him look 
like something out of a science fiction novel.
    His head was, for the most part, in imitation of a human's.  It was 
Caucasian, and heavily built, with a square chin and solid nose.  There 
wasn't a hair on his body, giving him the semblance of a wrestler, or maybe a 
martial artist.  The similarity to humankind, however, ended there.  The skin 
above and below his eyes each bore a long purple slash, starting halfway up 
his forehead and ending halfway down his cheeks.  The eyes themselves were 
inhuman, being nothing more than spheres of ruby.  At the nape of his neck, 
in seeming mockery of one of his greatest foes, was a disk that held a dozen 
heavy chains, with a sharp steel arrowhead point at the end of each.  The 
deadly river of silver hung to his knees, and clanked lightly whenever he 
walked.
    His upper chest was armored in sleek, streamlined silver.  There were two 
nearly indistinguishable panels where a human's pectorals might be, but their 
purpose was unknown.  The breastplate swept back to a pair of angled rods, 
each jutting at a 45-degree angle from his back.  As they cooled, they 
pivoted down to hang vertically along his back.  His lower torso was a mix of 
silver and black, the human-like 'abdominal muscles' being silver, but 
curving upwards and backwards from their base were twin swatches of black, 
which swept around his sides and met just beneath his neck.
    His shoulders were simple round joints, more heavily armored than they 
looked.  His upper arms were made from banded silver, with nine bands on each 
side.  His lower arms were edged in silver, with a dark black center.  His 
right forearm bulged upwards to hold a sphere parallel to his hands, which 
were segmented, the joints joining each heavy plate of hand armor to the next 
visible.  His pelvic joint was sleek, functional, and silver.  His upper 
legs, like his arms, were banded, with thirteen bands forming each upper leg. 
 The lower legs bulged out to form large boot-like constructs, armored, like 
his arms, in silver border and black inlay.  His feet were rounded, not 
protruding far from the boots, and had heavy treads on the bottom.  Overall, 
he towered over nearly anyone else, being six feet and four inches tall.
    Across from him stood another robot, this one much more lupine.  Though 
much shorter than Sigma, standing at a mere 5'6", he had the fierce look of a 
predator and the cunning and disposition to match.  His head was modeled 
after a wolf's, with angular plates of purple armor sweeping away from his 
segmented wolf's face.  They gave him the look of a dire wolf, looking for a 
kill.  His head met his body in what seemed a clash between the worlds of the 
mechanical and the natural.  Though his head was lupine, his body was a 
machine, and a well-built one at that.  His upper torso and shoulders were 
one plate of purple armor, the silver rivets that connected the armor to the 
rest of him shining in the reflected sunlight.  On his back hung two long 
cylinders, with tubes connecting to the back of his head.  His lower torso 
was thin and lightweight, having little armor.  His upper arms were simple 
cylinders, except for the fact that they were unusually long.  His lower arms 
were much like his head, with angular purple plates once again giving the 
impression of fur.  His hands were deceptively delicate seeming, for they 
housed razor sharp inch-long claws, which just peeked out of his fingertips 
when retracted.
    His pelvic juncture was similar to his breastplate- heavily armored and 
blocky.  His upper legs were, again, simple cylinders of purple metal, built 
to be lightweight for speed.  His lower legs, instead of gracefully sweeping 
to create a larger housing, angled out abruptly, the hard lines and exposed 
rivets making him look all the more deadly.  From the bottom of the 'boot' 
area sprouted three sharp, hooked claws, almost three inches long and perfect 
for digging into slippery ice to provide solid footing.
    The two robots, one tall, one short, stared at each other in silence for 
a minute, measuring each other.  Finally, the shorter one dropped to one 
knee, his head bowed.
    "Lord Sigma, it is truly and honor," he said, his voice thick with a 
Russian accent.
    "Get up," Sigma sneered.  "I have no use for bootlickers.  Why did you 
summon me?"
    "I have recently been Infected, sir, and wish to join you," the smaller 
robot explained, rising.
    "Then some of my Virus survived the merge after all," Sigma mused, a 
smirk growing on his face.  "That will make things much easier.  Tell me, 
what is your name?"
    "I call myself Arctic Wolf, sir," the purple robot said.
    "How fast can you travel?" Sigma asked after a pause.
    "Fast," Wolf said, a bit of pride in his voice.
    "Then go to Tokyo, and observe.  Something is mauling a number of 
Reploids there, and I want to know what, or who, it is," Sigma ordered.
    "I'll be there inside of two days, sir.  It'd be sooner if I didn't have 
to cross water.  Russian ferries are abominably slow," Wolf said.
    "Good enough.  Once you find out, return to my base.  It is nestled in 
the Bayankala region of China, inside of a hollowed out volcano that the 
locals call Mount Phoenix.  I will expect a full report when you arrive," 
Sigma said with a nod.  Then, he turned, the twin rods on his back rising up 
and extending to their full length.  With a hiss, the underside of each rod 
split and swiveled to either side of the rest of the rod.  They began to heat 
up, energy spilling from the freshly exposed exhaust cells along the length 
of the split rods.  With a roar and a blast of heat that vaporized the snow 
for a full foot around, Sigma shot up into the air, forsaking his usual 
stealth for the sheer speed that the noisier flight would give him.
    Without a word, Arctic Wolf, left alone on the frigid plains that were 
his homeland, turned from the site of the takeoff and began to run.  As he 
did so, the claws in his hands extended, and his pelvic joint shifted, and he 
fell to run on all fours.  His elongated arms allowed him to run with the 
speed of his namesake but, as a machine, he was tireless and single-minded.
    At his best speed, Arctic Wolf sped for the coast.

*   *   *   *   *   *

    /There's not much to say about Arctic Wolf.  Before the Apocalypse, he 
was an aspiring wrestler named Dimirti something-or-other.  Supposed to be 
some old Russian wrestler's protege.  Oh, well.  He went nuts right after the 
Apocalypse, and decided to go around trashing little towns, at least until he 
hooked up with Sigma.  At some point, he crossed over into Japan, then laid 
low for a while.  Once again, only for a while.  Too bad he wasn't the real 
problem that was about to show it's sick, twisted, leafy head.../
    /Damn.  It's 10 already, and I've got a math test tomorrow.  I'll write 
about Wolf later./
        ~Nabiki

*   *   *   *   *   *

    An excerpt from the diary of Akane Tendo, dated 2/7/97

    /Dear Diary-/
    /I don't know where to start.  Today was Hell, for so many reasons.  If 
it weren't for Ranma, I don't know what I'd do.  From what Dr. Light (I met 
him today- I'll talk about him later, if I have time.) says, I'd be in a 
scrap heap and Dr. Light would be in a government lad somewhere if he hadn't 
saved us.  I owe him so much.  Owe HER so much.  Oh, God, this is soooo 
confusing.  Let me explain from the beginning.../

*   *   *   *   *   *

    Akane stood, immobile, inside of Dr. Light's healing, mechanical embrace. 
 As dozens of grappler arms repaired and refitted her, all that Akane could 
do was think.  She thought about her family, she thought about school, but 
mostly, she thought about Dr. Light's comment about Ranma.
    <Could he... SHE feel that way about me?> Akane wondered.  Her own gender 
slip-up worried her vaguely for some reason, but she couldn't pinpoint it.  
The indecision of the situation gnawed at her until, finally, she couldn't 
stand it anymore.
    "Umm...  Dr. Light, could I ask you a question?" she finally asked.
    "Of course," he replied, sounding distracted.  Akane wondered at this for 
a moment, then realized that some of the repairs that he was doing on her 
must require a lot of attention, even from a computer.
    "What if someone was born a boy, grew up as a boy, then suddenly turned 
into a girl?" she asked, hoping to keep him from realizing that she was 
talking about Ranma.
    "I'm not sure that I understand what you're asking, Akane," he said, 
sounding considerably less distracted.  
    <At least I got his attention,> Akane thought to herself.  Aloud, she 
said, "What I mean is, would they be attracted to boys or girls?"
    "That's an interesting question, Akane," Dr. Light replied.  "In fact, 
it, or something very much like it, was an item of intense study in my world. 
 In a time of a general understanding about just about everything there was 
to understand about the human psyche and body, sexuality has, even in my 
time, remained largely a mystery."
    "So you don't know?" Akane supplied, disappointed.
    "Are you going to let me finish or not?" Dr. Light asked, a bit of 
irritation in his voice.  At Akane's silence, he continued, "With the human 
genome decoded and translated, it was discovered that sexuality is, in fact, 
controlled by genetics.  Though this explained homosexuality and, to some 
extent, bisexuality, many scientists were convinced that, no matter what 
nature dictated, the nurturing and influence of other human beings was far 
more important.  Thus, they staged a highly controversial, and rather 
dangerous, test.  They decided that, were a homosexual child to be raised in 
a household where the beauty of the opposite sex was the ideal, instead of 
the widely tolerant approach most had taken to homosexuality, the child would 
overcome their preordained homosexuality to be a perfectly normal 
heterosexual person."
    "That doesn't sound so dangerous," Akane interrupted.
    "It wouldn't have been, but the Scientific Research Protection for Minors 
Act of 2051 prohibited, among other things, experiments that had the 
possibility of altering a child's personality in such a way that it would 
affect their eventual course of life.  They couldn't prove their theory in 
the usual way," Dr. Light continued, without missing a beat.  So, what they 
did, was create a limited artificial intelligence interface, compact enough 
to be inserted in a cranial implant, but advanced enough that it could alter 
important perceptions about the person's childhood, so that the general 
effects of the scientists' experiment could be tested.  Once they found a 
sizeable group of disillusioned homosexuals, they tried their theory, 
removing the right frontal lobe in each person and replacing it with a 
cranial implant, designed to function both as a replacement frontal lobe and 
equipped with the limited A.I."
    "So, were they right or wrong?" Akane asked when Dr. Light paused.
    "Neither, and both," Dr. Light replied, sounding a bit distracted.
    "What do you mean?" Akane asked.
    "There, your legs should be fully functional now," Dr. Light declared, 
withdrawing most of his grappler arms, a few heavier ones welding Akane's 
legs shut.  He had finished with her upper body earlier, and had restored her 
upper level mobility, to some degree.  Akane could move her head and arms, 
but nothing else.
    "What do you mean?" Akane repeated over the crackling of the welding 
torches.
    "Hmm?  Oh, yes, the experiment," Dr. Light said, remembering.  "It was 
wildly inconclusive.  In a few, it accomplished what they thought it would, 
reversing the homosexuality.  In a roughly equal number, nothing happened.  
In everyone else, effects ranging from a complete disillusionment with human 
sexuality to one raving bisexual whose libido was magnified a hundred times, 
and everything in between.  In other words, nobody really knows."
    "Oh," Akane said, disappointed.  The welders and grappler arms withdrew, 
and Akane felt a sudden surge of control.  With a jerk, she took her first 
step, then a second off the platform of the capsule.  Turning, she said, "It 
feels good to move again."
    "I don't think I answered your original question," Dr. Light said, his 
hologram appearing on the pad of the capsule.  Akane was immediately reminded 
of her grandfather, who had died years ago.  "I would assume from your 
question that by 'grew up as a boy', you mean he passed through puberty?"
    "Umm, yeah," Akane said.  Dr. Light nodded.
    "In that case, my guess would be that, though he, or she, if you will, 
could be aroused as most women are, but his or her primary attraction would 
be to females."
    "Nurture over nature?" Akane asked.
    "Nature plus nurture over simple nature," Dr. Light corrected her.  "Once 
a person has passed through puberty, their sexual identity is quite firmly 
established."  Akane, provided with new information to dwell upon, nodded and 
turned away, thinking.  Suddenly, she stopped, thinking of something.
    "Dr. Light, were you one of the scientists that did that experiment?" she 
asked.  There was a long silence before Dr. Light replied.
    "Yes, as a matter of fact, I was.  I was the one that designed the 
artificial intelligence, in fact," he admitted, his head bowed.  "It was one 
of the two greatest mistakes of my life."  Akae nodded silently, her thoughts 
on herself.  "Akane?" Dr. Light suddenly said.
    "Yeah?" she replied, looking up.
    "I need to talk to you and Ranma about some very dangerous Reploids that 
may have transferred into this world alongside myself.  Please stop by with 
him tomorrow morning," he requested.  Akane nodded, then turned and left the 
basement, her damnable boots *clump*ing each step of the way.

*   *   *   *   *   * 

    /What do I do?  Ranma might like me more than I'm ready for, but I 
couldn't just go up to him and tear him down.  Her down.  Not after all of 
the things he's done for me.  She.  She, she, she, she, she!  Damn it, why 
can't I refer to Ranma as a girl?!  I sigh as I write, mainly because I just 
don't know.  Ranma's always just been a 'guy' in my mind since the 
Nyannichuan./
    /How do I feel towards him?  Her.  Well, if SHE were a guy, I'd probably 
be falling head-over-heels in love with HER, but that's not exactly the case. 
 I know that I can trust him with my life.  Her with... forget it, I'm not 
even going to bother.  Ranma's the best friend I could wish for.  If he wants 
to be more than that, well, that's on his initiative.  I don't want to deal 
with that right now, so there.  Anyways, it's almost midnight, and I'm in my 
human form, so I've gotta get some sleep.  'Night./
    /~Akane/

*   *   *   *   *   *

***Author's Notes***

    I know what you guys are probably thinking: He took six weeks to write 
the SHORTEST GODDAMN CHAPTER IN HIS FANFIC?!?!  Not quite true: I only had 
the computer for the last two weeks, but that's immaterial.  I hereby 
apologize for the long lapse in my writing; hopefully, it will not be 
repeated.  Moving on, does anybody out there know how INCREDIBLY hard it is 
to write a relationship like this?  It took me a full half week to think of 
how I wanted to convey Akane, and I'm still not sure that I got it right.  If 
I did, tell me.  If not, well, it's expected, so tell me anyway.  I'm at 
Flashfyre5@aol.com, and I want all the feedback that I can get.  I'd write 
more notes today, but I've got a doctor's 
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