Dear Listmembers,
I don't like posting an "update" without a story, but I don't
have anything ready and I'm falling further and further behind
in answering my e-mail. To keep this from being entirely
SPAM, I'm adding a couple of excerpts from a work in
progress.

UPDATE:

My wife has just come out of surgery for a very serious eye
problem , Presumed Ocular Histoplasmosis Syndrome (POHS)
which results in uncontrolled vascularization and bleeding in
the retina, resulting in blindness if untreated.  The prognosis is
guarded (we won't know for weeks or months how much if any
sight has been restored) but it looks like she's not going to lose
any more of the sight in that eye. Unfortunately the other eye is
also affected, but it's been caught early enough to use laser
surgery which is much less invasive.

Due to this it's going to be a while before I can get back to
writing and C&Cing. It's going to take some time to restore the
notes I had put together (and which are now scattered to the
four winds) and get back in the proper mindset.

I am also NOT able to answer e-mail in a timely manner, and I do
apologize. If you've e-mailed and don't get an answer,please try
again after Christmas. Things should be more settled by then.I'll try to answer e-mail as it comes in, but I can't promise anything.

WORKS IN PROGRESS

Sukeban Senshi
Chapter 8:I had actually started working on revisions when all
this happened. :(
Chapter 9, 10 etc. I've gotten a few isolated scenes mapped out.
This is the most complicated story I've tried, so it's slow going.


Tyger, Tyger: I had blocked out all of chapter 4 (the final
chapter I think) and was just finishing up some research on
Caesar Borgia when we had this medical emergency. I've got to
find my notes or re-do the research.

Bedlam Fire: chapter 13 & Epilogue: Still trying to work out a
transition of about two or three paragraphs. Once that little bit
at the beginning of the chapter is ready the rest should go
quickly.

Miscellaneous Stories:
"Heavens Mirror" and "Lure the Tiger from the Mountain"
(working title "Reflections") Are both UNFINISHED, but posted
on D-chan's website.

http://www.geocities.com/ayongedarling/index.html

They are experimental pieces in that I'm
trying to avoid blowing up things and the whole-scale slaughter
that seems to be in so many of my other stories. ^_*

(BTW, both of the titles are still working titles and what is
posted on the web-page is DRAFT!!!! But D-chan liked them
and wanted to post them.)

Also, some new stories/chapters by D-chan are  on the
site. Be sure to read them, and sign the guest book. ^_^




An as yet untitled and possibly never to be written
SM/Ranma/mega X-over. Too much time reading Demons and
Dogs by Alex Kerr, watching Discovery Channel/TLC (and
reading) about Unit 731(Japanese bio-warfare) The Rape of
Nanking and running across "Tentacle" sites on the web (where the sole purpose seemed to be inflicting pain w/o plot),
prompted me to write (or at least rough out) a VERY grim,
apocalyptic story with the Senshi, Ranma and various other
anime characters being kidnaped by the government in an
attempt to "cure" them of their anti-social/un-patriotic/deviant
behavior.  I'm still trying to decide if I should limit it to _just_
Ranma (in which case it would be more realistic, but
extraordinarily BLACK (think "One Flew Over the Cuckoo's
Nest") or if I should 'lighten' the mood by adding the Senshi,
Tenchi, Outlaw Star, etc. I'm leaning toward the latter, since
the original depressed me too much to think about.



FINALLY, to keep this from being entirely SPAM, excerpts
from :

Lure the Tiger From the Mountains

Synopsis:
An Alternate History:
[Ranma & Genma are just a _little_ more the con-artists.
The Tendous are a _bit_ more conventional. Soun's emotional
problems are deeper. Kasumi is headed to Medical School,
Nabiki & co. run a small Pachinko franchise while Akane is
more intense about her martial arts.
No one knows about Ranma's curse and all think Ranko and
Ranma are two different people.

In the following excerpts, Akane has been temporarily blinded
and her hands and arms seriously blistered during a fight with
an intruder who uses a mixture of Stone Fish poison and other
chemicals to effect an escape. Kasumi, Nabiki and Ranko are in
the Tendou Kitchen discussing the events after leaving Akane
at the hospital. Kasumi has decided to explain to Ranko a little
about Akane's behavior and temper.]




Excerpt Chapter 18



"It was a very hard time. Mother died, Akane almost
died and father was . . .unwell." Kasumi's eyes were
unfocused, looking at something only she could see.

    "I tried to . . . _we_ tried to take care of her," she
looked at Nabiki, who ducked her head. "but Akane was so
young. She didn't understand how sick she was. Only that
mama was gone. Papa was . . . 'sick'. And she couldn't leave
her room anymore . . .


@@@@@@@@@@@

    "I want to go see Ayumi," Akane pleaded. "She's got
a new puppy!"

    "Maybe latter," Kasumi replied, feeling a little
harassed. "I've got to go get Nabiki from school and then fix
dinner." Not quite ten, Kasumi was already accomplished in
the kitchen and at household management, thanks to her
mother's notebooks. "Why don't you read for a while, and if I
have time later we'll see about siting in the garden after
supper?" But it was too much to expect a child to be able to
raise two other children, especially a very sick child.

    "I want to see the puppy," Akane repeated, almost in
tears. "Ayumi drew a map and-----"

    "NO!" Kasumi snapped, snatching the map from
Akane's hands and crumpled it in her pocket.  "You're too
sick to go anywhere by yourself, and I don't have time to take
you. I've got to get Nabiki, shop for dinner, clean the house,"
Kasumi dashed angry tears from her eyes. "and take care of
you! Stop being so selfish. I have to do all the work! Now,
read your book quietly or I won't  let you sit by the pond after
dinner!"

    Akane sat, stunned, in the middle of her bed as the
door slammed and her sisters foot-steps pattered down the
stairs.  As the shadows crept across the bed covers, her book
lay untouched,  where Kasumi had flung it.

*****

    "Nabiki," the middle Tendou daughter looked up from
her homework. "Please go up and help Akane come down to
dinner." Kasumi watched her sister leave the family room,
twisting her hands beneath her apron. She had been tempted,
shamefully, to have Nabiki take a tray up to Akane's room.
She'd made some bean-jam buns as a treat, but she still
dreaded facing her little sister. Maybe Akane would be asleep
and she could avoid-----

    "Neechan? Akane's not in her room. Neither is her
Oh-two bottle." Nabiki sounded a little aggravated at having
climbed the stairs for nothing. "Can I have a bean-jam bun
while the rice is cooking?"

    "You'll spoil your dinner," Kasumi said
automatically. "Go out to the garden and bring Akane in. It's
to chilly for her to be out." Kasumi felt a guilty sense of relief.
She could 'forgive' Akane for going out without permission,
which would allow her to avoid the whole 'puppy' situation.
She had a happy thought. In fact, she would take Akane to see
the 'puppy' tomorrow. Maybe they could even get a puppy or
at least a kitten. That would be company-----

    "She's not out there." Nabiki sounded a little puzzled.

    "What?" Kasumi snapped out of her daydream. "What
do you mean? She's got to be out there."

    "I looked!" Nabiki said, indignantly. "She's not in the
garden."

    "Of course she is . . .unless she's playing a trick,"
Kasumi's earlier thoughts of treats for her sister vanished.
"Nabiki, go look upstairs. I'll check outside."

    "Oh boy. Akane's in trouble, ain't she?" Nabiki said
gleefully.

    "She is as soon as I find her."

    Thirty  minutes later Kasumi stood white-faced in the
kitchen while Nabiki munched contentedly on a bean-jam bun.
The house and grounds weren't that big and the two girls had
searched twice, even checking the tiny crawl-space and attic,
under the beds and in the closets, the doujou and the roof.

     Pots and pans and containers of thawing food lay
scattered around the kitchen, proof of  blind desperation as
she'd emptied the cabinets and cupboards and ripped
everything out of the refrigerator, unable in her fear to dismiss
any possibility, no matter how absurd.

    Her body shivered uncontrollably and tears streamed
down her cheeks. Akane was gone. She'd yelled at her. Akane
was gone. Over and over that single thought chased itself
around her mind. Akane was gone.

    Papa was out getting more 'medicine'.

    She'd yelled at her.

    Could the neighbors help . . .she cringed, remembering
how Papa had yelled at Mrs. Oson when she'd tried to talk to
him about his 'medicine.'

    Akane was gone.

    The police . . .she knew what papa would say if she
called the police and her tears fell faster.

    Akane was gone.

    Mama was gone.

    Papa was gone.

    Akane was gone.

    And she didn't know what to do.


    "Can I have another bun?" Nabiki had learned to grab
what she could today, because tomorrow might not come.

    Mechanically Kasumi moved to get another bun and
something crinkled in her pocket. Reaching inside she pulled
out a crumpled paper. Smoothing it out revealed a map.

    The puppy!

    "Get your coat," Kasumi commanded, reaching for her
own. Nabiki shrugged and grabbed her coat, pausing to stuff
the remaining buns into the pockets.

    "Where we goin?"

    "To get your sister." *Please Kami-sama.*

*****

    It wasn't a very good map, done in a childish scrawl
on the back of a scrap of clinic stationary, but it was all she
had. She didn't even know Ayumi's last name. Only that she
was a girl Akane had met at the clinic, and she had a puppy.

    "I'm tired," Nabiki whined, again. "I want to go
home."

    "Not until we find Akane," Kasumi said patiently.
Nabiki was only eight, too young to be out this late, she thought guiltily,
never considering she was only two years older.

    "Wait here a minute," she walked across the street and
bought a strawberry crepe and some tea, describing Akane to
the vendor and asking if he'd seen her. Getting a promise from
the man to have Akane wait by his yatai if he saw her, Kasumi
re-crossed the street and handed the treat to Nabiki.

    "Wrr eee tmk buff?"

    "Don't talk with your mouth full." Kasumi said
automatically, desperately scanning the streets.

    "Why don't we take the bus?" Nabiki asked, washing
down the last of the crepe with some tea.

    "Because the map isn't drawn with bus directions."
And because Akane had never traveled by bus before.   She
fingered her own transit-pass nervously. The system was
confusing, even for seasoned travelers, which is why she had
to take Nabiki to and from school. If Akane _had_ managed to
get on a bus somehow, she could be anywhere. She might not
even be in Nerima, anymore.

    "We just have to keep walking, until we find her." Or
find someone who had seen her. A little girl pulling a bottle of
oxygen shouldn't be hard to remember. But even if someone
_had_ seen her while she was walking (if she was walking)
they were long gone. Kasumi's best chance was someone who
would be on the streets and in one spot,  like the man with the
yatai. But those old-fashioned vendors were few and far
between.

    "I wanna go home." Nabiki dragged behind Kasumi,
really tired now. Kasumi was getting tired herself. Maybe she
should have left Nabiki at home, but the thought of letting
Nabiki out of her sight was too terrifying to even think about.

    "It's not much further now," she coxed, not really
knowing herself far it was. "There will be puppies and cakes
and tea . . ." she enumerated all the treats in store.

    "I'm tired." Nabiki said simply, not even caring about
snacks and Kasumi knew she was in trouble.

    "I'm sorry, sweetheart. But just a little farther," she
pleaded, almost in tears. "Just a little bit, I promise." A chill
ran through her body as she caught a movement out of the
corner of her eye.

    Across the street a samurai-in-miniature pulled a green
bottle of oxygen in a cart.

    Step-drag-step-pause.

           In her other hand she dragged a mesh grocery bag,
almost as big as she was, and much too heavy for her to lift.

    Step-drag-step-pause.

    A small step, drag the mesh-bag a pace, a tiny step,
then pause to rest.

    "Akane?" Prayerfully.

    "Akane!"

    Dragging Nabiki by the hand Kasumi raced across the
street, heedless of traffic or pedestrians. "AKANE!"

    "N . . .nee . . .sama?" Akane gasped, smiling in glad
surprise. "I . . .got . . ." her face was grey with exhaustion, and
the small bottle of oxygen had run out hours ago. " . . .gro . . .
ceries." She smiled hopefully. "I . . .help . . .too?"

    Dazed, Kasumi looked in the shopping-bag, which she
recognized as her mothers. Inside was a package of rice, two
cups of instant ramen and an onion. And Akane's  Lucky Kitty
purse.

    "N . . .neesama?" Akane's hand went to the little
wooden sword at her waist as Kasumi fell to her knees,
sobbing. "Don't . . .cry . . .eesama. I . . .tect . . .you."



*****
  *****

    "Why can't I go too?" Akane complained.

    "Because it's too dangerous," Tendou Soun, said
patiently. "And you're too young.

    "I'm almost nine," Akane objected, indignantly. "And
Kasumi----"

    "Kasumi is heir to the Musabetsu kakutou
Tendou-ryuu," Sound explained, not for the first time. "It is
her duty to compete in tournaments."

    "But I want to watch! Nabiki gets to go."

    "I'm the manager," Nabiki replied with the lofty
superiority of an older sister. "I have to take care of equipment
and hotels and paperwork and stuff."

    "The trip would be too stressful for you," Soun
worried, "and this is a major competition. There will be a very
rough crowd there."

    Nabiki rolled her eyes. Kasumi was in a girls twelve
and under competition. They wore padded armor, strikes to the
head and below the waist weren't allowed and the rounds
lasted three minutes with a one minute rest between. The
roughest fighters there would be some of the parents, and they
weren't allowed onto the mat. But Tendou Soun thought his
girls were made of spun sugar. When he was sober, at least.

    "There really isn't much to see," Kasumi offered
softly.

    "I want to watch you win, 'neesama." Akane cajoled,
hoping to win over the real head of the house.

    "Oh, I'm afraid you would be disappointed. You've
won many more competitions that I have." She waved a hand
at the rows of trophies lining the wall.

    "Swimming," Akane dismissed scornfully. "Power-
lifting. I'm a martial artist too!"

    There was a moment of silence, then Soun exploded.

    "NO! Absolutely not. I forbid it. Martial arts are too
dangerous for you." He would have said more, but Kasumi
intervened.

    "We have to go now," She kissed Akane on the
forehead, "but Mrs. Oson has promised to look in while we're
gone. There's food in the kitchen and the emergency numbers
are pinned to the message board." A quick hug and she hurried
her father and Nabiki out the door, before they could agitate
Akane further. It wasn't good for her to get excited. Kasumi
had been reading about a new therapy in the magazines at the
doctors office that might help the inflamation in Akane's hip.
She'd have to make a trip to the library when they got back
and do some more reading.

    Akane watched them walk down the street toward the
bus stop until they were out of sight. "They treat me like I'm a
baby,"  She muttered, limping back upstairs to her room where
she dragged her already packed suitcase from the closet.
Patting her pocket to make sure her money was secure she
headed out the door, ignoring the oxygen cylinder gathering
dust in the corner.



*****

    Looking around the huge auditorium Akane
swallowed a little nervously.  The train ride had been exciting,
although she'd missed a stop and had to double back, but that
meant she'd arrived a little late. It was so noisy and so big she
couldn't even see the other side. And there were two other
buildings! How was she ever going to find where 'neesama
was competing?

    "Doujou?"

    "What?" Akane jumped as a man sitting behind a
table spoke to her.

    "What doujou are you with?" He gave a friendly smile
to the broad shouldered boy in jeans and sweat-shirt.  Kid
looked like a weight lifter.

    "T . . .Tendou. Musabetsu kakutou Tendou-ryuu!"
Akane stuttered.

    "Tendou . . .Tendou . . .oh, here it is." He looked
down the list. "You only have Tendou Kasumi registered,
though." He pulled out a thick packet of papers. "You'll have
to fill these out first.  Boy's Middle Division  is in building
two-west."

    "B . . .boy? But I'm -----" then the rest of his sentence
registered. "Competition?"

    "You are here to compete?" He hesitated, the brown
envelope poised half-outstretched.

    "Oh . . .oh YES!" She practically snatched the
envelope from his hand. "I'm here to compete!" Wouldn't
papa be surprised. He wouldn't teach her, but she peeked
through the door  when 'neesama was doing kata and then
she'd practice on her own when no one else was around. This
would be her first chance to actually try out what she'd been
learning.

    She looked at the papers in the envelop and frowned. It
had a lot of Kanji that she hadn't learned yet. She shrugged
and carefully printed her name at the top,  filling out the parts
she understood and guessing at the rest. She really _meant_ to
ask someone to explain all the big words to her, but in the
excitement of her first ever martial arts competition, she
forgot.


*****

    "You did very well, daughter," Soun told Kasumi
gruffly. "I am very proud of you."

    "She was eliminated in the sixth round," Nabiki
complained, a bit peeved since she'd placed  bets on the
assumption Kasumi wouldn't make it past the fifth round.

    "But she didn't get hurt," Soun replied. "That's the
most important thing. You didn't get hurt," he asked
anxiously, "did you?"

    "I'm fine papa," Kasumi assured him, a little sadly.
"I'm sorry I didn't win. I'll try harder next time."

    "It's the fault of those judges," he complained. "I don't
know where they get these people."

    "Yes, papa." Kasumi was too dutiful a daughter to
contradict her papa. But she just wasn't very good at sparring,
it was too noisy and competitive.  She much preferred the
gentle quiet of 'Forms'.

    A sudden roar attracted their attention.

    "Hey," Nabiki looked at a sign on the wall. "Boys Full
Contact, Middle Division. Let's go take a look."

    "Full contact," Soun said doubtfully. "I don't think it's
very proper for you to be seeing something like that."

    Kasumi tended to agree. But Nabiki would like it,
which Kasumi always thought strange. Her sister couldn't be
coaxed onto the mat under any circumstances, but she enjoyed
watching martial arts. She saw Nabiki pull out her wallet and
check the contents.  Of course, it might just be the betting she
enjoyed.

    "I'm going to check out the suck . . .errrr . . .the
competitors.  You get some good seats and I'll meet you in a
few minutes." Putting on her most innocent little girl face,
Nabiki prepared to hustle some proud, yet undiscriminating,
parents.

    Edging their way down the isle Kasumi and her father
found two seats together and one across the isle, which
Kasumi claimed for Nabiki by resting her gym bag on it.

    "This isn't good," Soun measured the competitors with
an expert eye, forgetting his earlier objections. "that smaller
boy's stance is all wrong." He pointed to a, dark haired boy in
a plain cotton gi. "His weight is too far forward, and the
placement of his left foot is all wrong."

    "He does seem a little awkward," Kasumi agreed. "but
he _did_ make it to the finals." She watched a tall, whip-cord
lean boy in metallic-gold silk, glide forward with panther-like
grace. His opponent shuffled sideways like a lame bear. There
was something vaguely familiar about that clumsy movement,
and she wished they weren't sitting so far back.

    "It's a disgrace," Soun muttered. "having someone so
obviously unskilled competing. Probably political connections.
Just like your opponent."

    "Oh, father."

    "The only connection that guy has is at the end of his
arm." Nabiki showed up, arms full of snacks. At Kasumi's
chiding look she reluctantly shared some of her bounty with
father and sister. "That guy screwed up all the odds," she
informed them disgustedly, around a mouthful of chips. "No
one's taking any bets on anything now. Don't know much
about him, name's Kenny or Kaneda or something.
Latecomer," she washed down the chips with some cola, "not
on the program. But he's been blasting through the
competition. Not much style, but he's supposed to have a hell
of a left." Soun gave her a dark look, and Kasumi mouthed
'language', both of whom she ignored.

    In the ring, the boy in gold lashed out with a spinning
high-kick which caught the dark-haired boy on the shoulder,
tumbling him across the matt.

    "Not going to do him any good now, though." Nabiki
tapped her program with an index finger. "That's Yamoto
'Super Foot' Kenjiro. Age sixteen and he's won the
championship every year for four years. This is his last year in
the Middle division and he's a chinch to win this one."  She
hated being at the mercy of 'wild cards' when she was betting.


    And indeed it seemed to be over quickly, as Kenjiro
controlled the fight completely, hitting the other boy when and
where he willed. In a few short moments his opponent was a
battered, bleeding wreck and the referee halted the fight.

    "Is it over," Kasumi asked hopefully, eyes closed
against the carnage.

    "Only if he quits, can't continue or is knocked out,"
Nabiki replied ghoulishly.  But, even when this guy got his
head broken, it wouldn't put money in her pocket.  Gambling
on sports was profitable, but she needed something that would
pay off no matter who won or lost.

    The smaller boy shook his head at something the
official said and the referee held up his right hand, indicating
the fight was to continue.

    Kinjiro lashed out with a bewildering combination of
kicks and savage strikes, some of which his opponent caught
on his forearms, but many of which he blocked with his face.
Six times the dark haired boy went down, and six times he got
up. Twice the fight was stopped, and once a doctor came into
the ring to check his condition. His nose  was mashed to one
side, his lips were split and bleeding and he peered through
two eyes that were black and swollen to mere slits, but he
wouldn't quit and he wouldn't stay down.

     Kenjiro, untouched as yet, was feeling the effects of
his continuous all-out attack. He was drenched in sweat, his
uniform was disheveled and he was smeared in blood, albeit
all his opponents. Worse, some of the audience were beginning
to boo him. Why wouldn't that stupid boy stay _down_!

    But Kenjiro hadn't progressed as far as he had by
being careless.  Centering himself, he started his slashing
attacks, once more. It would take time, but eventually his
opponent would go down, or the officials would stop the
match and award it to him on points. It was less satisfactory
than a submission or knock-out, and there was a reluctance to
decide a full-contact match on points. But right now, he'd take
what he could get.

    Half an hour later, Kenjiro was getting worried. He'd
never fought a match that lasted longer than fifteen minutes,
and fatigue was slowing him down. His opponent was still
slower , but the difference between them was narrowing ,
because his opponent continued to move in exactly the same
awkward but powerful manner he'd started the match. Time
was working against Kenjiro.

    Putting some distance between them, Kenjiro
considered his options. He was nearing the end of his strength
and starting to get sloppy.  A mistake could cost him the
match. He had to end this quickly.

    Contrary to his trademark spinning high-kicks, he
went in fast and low, feinting  with a savage side kick to his
opponents leg to force an opening, following with a spear-hand
to the belly that should have collapsed him like a burst
balloon.

    Instead, it felt as if he'd hit a bag of wet clay. The
other boy looked at him for an instant, as if to ask 'is that
all?', then a rock hard fist hit him just below the heart.

    A fireball exploded and Kenjiro felt his chest  collapse
against his spine.  The matt spun crazily and then he was
looking up at the ceiling while his brain bounced around in his
skull.  Moments later blurry shadows blocked his view of the
ceiling tiles as the referee and doctor bent over him, mouths
moving. But he couldn't hear anything over the thunderous
pain, couldn't breath, couldn't scream-----


    "Wow!" Nabiki came out of her seat, along with the
rest of the spectators, as 'Super Foot' flew through the air,
limbs flopping like a rag doll, hit the edge of the mat, and
bounced. There was a moment of stunned silence, then a roar
from the crowd as the doctor and referee ran to the fallen boy.

    A few more moments and the referee held up his hands
for silence.

    "Yamato Kenjiro, being unable to continue . . ." he
glanced questioningly at the doctor, who shook his head,
giving the official an 'are you crazy' look, " . . .being unable
to continue, this match has been decided by a knock-out! The
winner of the Boys, twelve to sixteen Full Contact Martial
Arts Competition" he took a deep breath " . . . representing the
Musabetsu kakutou Tendou-ryuu" He held up the dark haired
boy's hand----

    "Tendou!" Soun shot out of his seat like a samurai-in-
the-box "What is this," he stormed down onto the mat. "I am
the Head of the Tendou-ryuu and this imposter----

    "-----Tendou Akane!"

    Soun skidded to a halt, a stunned look on his face,
similar to that of a toad under the wheels of a truck.

    "My baby!" He whirled on the referee. "How could
you let this happen to my little girl!" he wailed.

    "G . . .girl?" the official fell back a pace, stunned.
Looking at the powerfully built figure who had blasted his . . .
uhhh . . ._her_ way through the entire division, he stifled an
urge to ask Soun what made him think this was a girl.  After
the first two wins by  knock-outs (and one hasty forfeit) the
referee had decided the name Akane was some bizarre training
gimmick, like that American song about a Boy Named Soo.

    "Hi papa!" Akane's battered face lit with a broad grin.
"Didja see me?" she slurred through puffy lips. "That was
_fun_!  Kasumi?" Her face fell. "Oh no! Is your match over
already? I wanted to see you win."

    "That's alright, Akane-chan," Kasumi said faintly.
"Your match was much more . . .interesting."

    "So . . ." Nabiki's conversational tones carried over
the murmur of the crowd as she spoke with one of the judges.
"I'm thinking of writing this essay for Asian Martial Arts
Quarterly, about a nine year old girl who whips the boy's
middle division champion." She smiled cutely. "But, I thought
I'd offer you first option to buy it."

*****
   *****

    "Are you alright, Akane?" Kasumi looked worriedly
at her baby sister.  At almost eleven years of age Akane's body
fairly glowed with energy and her densely  packed
musculature was more powerful than many grown men.
Despite these outward signs, Kasumi still saw a  frail child
who was left weak and gasping after a walk up the stairs.

    "Hmmm," Akane's head swivelled excitedly back and
forth, afraid she might miss something. "What did you say?"

    "I wondered if you were feeling ill. You look a little
flushed."

    "She's just excited," Nabiki drawled, wondering if she
could sneak away long enough to lay down some sucker bets.
It was a sure thing that she could find a lot of people who'd
never seen Akane fight and would take long-odds on her sister.
"There are weapons to buy, bones to break, sweaty, muscular
half-naked boys to wrestle into submission."

    "Nabiki!" Kasumi scolded. Sometimes she didn't
know what to do with that girl.

    "Yeah, it's great," Akane enthused. Nabiki sighed as
Akane, once again, missed the point entirely. "I've seen some
really strong looking fighters. There's even  an expert in Thai
Boxing."

    "Well, this is Thailand," Kasumi murmured.

    "Oh, yeah," Akane grinned sheepishly. "Anyway, he's
amazing, I watched him balance a stick on his foot, snap-kick
a twelve-inch thick oak plank in two, then catch the stick with
his toes before it hit the ground. He  broke three bones in his
last fight!"

    "His, or the other guys?" Nabiki asked, suppressing a
shudder. She didn't mind blood too much, as long as it was
someone else's.  But breaking bones . . .she shuddered again.

    "His opponents," Akane replied, seriously. "Thai
Boxing was supposed to be invented by King Naresuen of
Siam, that's modern Thailand," she said, face alive with
enthusiasm. "and it's got really strong high-kicks, but I'm not
very good at those," she admitted.

     Shifting her weight, she lifted her right leg parallel to
the ground, pointing to  a line of yellow callous just forming
along her shin. "And you build up your bones by smashing
them against trees and things until you can shatter your
opponents bones with a leg sweep-----"

    "That's alright," Nabiki held up a hand. "I don't need
to know all the gory details."

    "Oh," Akane sounded disappointed. "But it's a really,
really neat technique."

    "Are you going to have to fight this . . .neat person?"
Kasumi asked, faintly.

    "No," Akane kicked at the floor in frustration. "He's
in the senior heavy-weight division and they won't let me."
Kasumi hid a sigh of relief, knowing Akane wouldn't
understand her worries.  "But he said he'd spar with me
tomorrow afternoon." She added, brightening up, not noticing
the sudden shadow that darkened Kasumi's eyes.

    "Sorry I'm late," Tendou Soun came puffing up, a
large duffle clutched under his arms. "But the airport finally
found Akane's bag and I got us checked into the hotel."

    "That's alright, father," Kasumi answered, gifting him
with a large smile. "Akane has had fun exploring. Would you
like some help with that?" She shifted one of her crutches to
her other hand and reached for the bag.

    "NO," Soun flushed slightly as several people looked
his way, then said again in a more normal voice. "I mean, no,
I'm fine, Kasumi." He smiled, but couldn't meet her gaze, his
eyes instead straying in horrified fascination to the lightweight
cast on her left leg.

    "Are you _sure_ you don't need any help?" Nabiki
asked in a carefully neutral voice. "You might slip and fall
down."

    The blood drained from Soun's face and he looked
helplessly at his eldest daughter, afraid he would see
condemnation in her eyes, more afraid he would see
forgiveness.

    "Are you mad about something, Nabiki?" Akane
asked worriedly, looking between her sister and her father.

    "Nabiki is just a little tired from the trip," Kasumi
explained.  "Why don't she and I get something for everyone
to eat while you and father go take care of registration."

    "Yeah," Nabiki had the grace to look at her sister a
little shamefaced, "I'm just tired. "but her eyes held no
forgiveness for her father. "I'll see you two in a little while."
She hugged Akane. "Let me know if you see any good
prospects that might have been overlooked." She grinned at
her sister. "There's a new dress I've got my eye on, and if I
can play some short odds, I can clean up." She stood watching
her sister disappear down an escalator. Soun looked back over
his shoulder at his middle daughter, but she turned away,
refusing to meet his eyes.

    "You should show more respect to father." Kasumi
chided gently as they started to explore for restaurants.

    "Respect?" Nabiki snorted, " _him_!" She saw the
real hurt in Kasumi's eyes and instantly relented. "I'm sorry."

    "He is trying, you know."

    "I . . .Ok, he's trying." Nabiki was constitutionally
unable to understand  how Kasumi could be so forgiving.  At
least Akane got mad at people. Of course she got over it
almost instantly and neither she or Kasumi ever  held a
grudge.

    She, on the other hand, held a grudge until it died of
old age, then had it stuffed and mounted,  "I'll try, too."
Nabiki linked arms with her older sister and together they
headed for the office complex.  "Why don't we pick up some
beef bowl for Akane and father," she made a peace offering, to
Kasumi if not her father.

*****

    "I think we're lost." Nabiki looked around in
frustration, balancing a stack of Styrofoam containers in her
arms.

    "I think you're right," Kasumi searched for something
familiar, but all the signs were in Thai, which didn't help."but
we'll find our way back eventually," she added cheerfully.
"after all we can see the main concourse." She pointed over
the railing at the noisy throngs, two stories below.

    "Yeah, great," Nabiki said sourly, juggling the hot
food containers. "now if we just had a couple hundred feet of
rope, we'd be in business." She could see tiny lines of strain
around Kasumi's mouth as her broken leg began to ache.
"Why don't you have a seat, while I scout around for a way
out." She'd tired to follow their footprints in the dust, back to
the elevator that had brought them to this floor,  but somehow
she'd gotten them all twisted around.

    "Oh, no. I'm sure we'll find a working elevator or an
open stairway soon."

    "It's my fault," Nabiki said miserably. "I thought I
could save you from having to take the stairs, if we cut straight
across from the other building."

    "Just think of it as an adventure," Kasumi patted
Nabiki on the shoulder. "Let's try that way," she pointed down
a corridor "maybe we can find our way back to the
restaurant."

*****

    *Oneesama?* Akane watched the figure disappear into
the shadows, two levels above her head. *What are they doing
up there? Maybe they got lost.* she thought, limping toward
the fire-stairs. The door was unlocked, and the 'Under
Construction' sign was in Thai.

*****

    :Well, well, and who are you?:

    "E . . .excuse me," Kasumi said, bowing politely.
"But, we're lost. Could you please tell us how to get back to
the main concourse?" she spoke slowly, hoping she could
somehow make herself understood.

    "Lost?" The man, thin to the point of emaciation,
twitched his coat into line. "Well, that's easy to do in this
maze. All the construction, exposed wiring, blocked stairs,
elevators not working. You could wander around for months
without seeing a living soul."

    "Oh, you speak Japanese."

    "Also English, Dutch, French and Mandarin." he
smiled, holding out a business card:
'Rim of Fire Import/Export. J. Pang, Pres.'.

    "Jonathan Pang, call me Johnny. Let me help you with
that," he relieved Nabiki of her burden. "I think we can help
you find your way out."

    "We?" Nabiki asked suspiciously.

    "Just some friends of mine." Jonathan Pang smiled,
green eyes twinkling merrily as three men, one of them a giant,
stepped out of the shadows. "we were discussing some
business, when we heard you talking."

*****

    "HaaaaCHOOO!" Gasping, Akane fumbled a
handkerchief from her pocket and wiped her streaming eyes.
The dust was terrible, but at least she had a trail to follow.
She just wasn't positive it had been made by her sisters. She
was trying to decide if she should go right or left, when the
faint murmur of voices made her pause. A sudden terrified cry
hit her like an electric shock and she sprinted down the
corridor toward the sound, ignoring the sudden burst of fire in
her leg.

*****

    "Leave me _alone_!" Nabiki kicked futilely at the
giant who held her. "Let me go!"

    Johnny Peng  was in a good mood. He'd gone from a
shortfall, to being one-up, and his overhead on the deal was
zero.

    He liked the looks of  Nabiki.  About twelve or
thirteen he judged. Young and frightened brought good prices.
Pity she was Japanese, though. European and American
brought the best money. The other one might be a problem.
The fetish market was difficult to judge and he wasn't sure if
he'd get more from a client who liked to play with cripples or
one who preferred to make them. He looked Kasumi up and
down, uncomfortable with the way she just stared into the
distance, as if he weren't there. If she went catatonic, she was
no good to him.

    :Aaaaa! You bitch!:

    Johnny whirled toward the scream to see the giant,
Qui, jerk away from Nabiki, who had sunk her teeth into his
wrist. One of the two men holding Kasumi started forward to
help him. As soon as he dropped her arm, Kasumi spun one
crutch as if it were a naginata, dropping the man  holding her
other arm with a solid blow to the head.

    "Nabiki, RUN!" She shifted her grip on the crutch and
threw it  like a spear, catching the giant in the temple, forcing
him to release Nabiki entirely. Grasping her remaining crutch
as if it were a fighting-staff, he made a halting advance on
Peng, attempting to force him away from the door. Behind her
the other guard quickly reversed course, pulling a collapsible
baton from under his coat.

    :Crap! I don't need this shit.: Easily avoiding
Kasumi's clumsy lunge, he glanced over his shoulder to see
the giant snag Nabiki by the arm and yank her into the air, one
huge hand drawn back to smash in the teeth that had drawn his
blood.

    :NO, not the face!: Johnny yelled, seeing his profits
about to vanish under Qui's massive fist. The giant shifted his
target at the last minute and Nabiki folded around his fist,
falling to the ground, gasping and vomiting.

    Satisfied that at least part of his profits were safe, for
the moment, he looked back to see Kasumi fall to the ground
as Chong clubbed her behind her good leg.

    "KASUMI!"

    *Ah, shit,*  Johnny turned to see a dusty, disheveled
girl-child standing in the doorway, dress still swirling around
her legs from her run. *What is this, cripples on parade?* he
thought, looking at the heavy knee brace with revulsion. Well,
maybe she'd clean up nice and he could get a few dollars for
her. He opened his mouth to order Qui to grab her, and then
Jonathan 'Call me Johnny' Peng started to have a very bad
day.

    The first thing Akane saw was Nabiki, curled in a fetal
position on the floor, sobbing. Then a man  hit Kasumi. She
heard the meaty thwack of metal on bone, saw Kasumi's eyes
go dark with pain, the crutch fly from her hand. In slow
motion, she  watched her sister crumple and fall to the ground,
like a broken butterfly.  A loud screaming noise was coming
from someplace. Then it got very quiet and a red fog  closed in
until all she could see was the man standing over Kasumi with
a club. She took a step------

    With a scream, like a boiler explosion in hell, fifty-
three kilograms of fury burst into the room. Chong lashed out
reflexively at the shrieking thunderbolt, but his steel club
bounced off a rock-hard shoulder. He never had the chance for
a second blow, as iron-strong fingers grabbed him by the
throat and crotch and hurtled him through the wall. Or,
halfway through. Midway,  he stopped a four-by-six with his
face and decided to take a little nap.

    Qui was a master of Musti-Yuddha, Indian Boxing.
Six foot six, two hundred eighty pounds of meanness, he'd
killed nineteen men in single combat and once  wrestled a ton-
and-a-half of Brahma-bull for a fifty-dollar bet, breaking it's
spine with a single blow.

    He casually reached for Akane with a shovel sized
hand, unable to take an elementary-school girl seriously. Until
the school-girl twisted under his grappling hand and struck a
savage one-two combination into the nerve bundle under his
arm, a blow that would have  stunned or crippled a normal
human. Qui merely bellowed  in pain and slammed back with a
Red-Tiger-Fist.

    The blow spun her into the wall, snapping her collar
bone  with a sound like a pistol shot. Qui grinned in
anticipation, waiting for the look of fear and pain he liked so
much.  But Akane's look only said, *is that all you've got?*


    Qui had a brief glimpse of fierce  eyes, red with blood
from capillaries burst under an adrenalin surge, and then she
crashed into him like a wave breaking on the shore.  He fought
back desperately, slamming her with body blows that would
have killed a man twice her size, but she shrugged it off and
came back for more, kicking, punching and tearing at his
flesh, until he felt like he'd stuck his head in a meat grinder.

     Qui had a price on his head in three countries, he'd
finished off two knife fighters one-handed, holding his guts in
place with the other. He still carried three bullets in his chest,
from a Pakistani policeman who'd tried to arrest him, and  a
two-dollar hooker in Jakarta had bitten off his right ear when
he'd tried to leave without paying. He still had his head on his
shoulders, his guts in his belly and he wore the ear on a chain
around his neck. He'd pistol whipped the cop with his own
gun.

    Three minutes after Tendou Akane entered the room
he was crying for his mother and a minute after that, he hit the
ground,  looking like something the cat threw up.

    Johnny Peng dragged himself upright, from where
Akane's initial rush had thrown him, wanting nothing so much
in life as to be somewhere else. Anywhere else. He might have
made it too, if in his haste to escape he hadn't tripped over
Nabiki. Her cry of fright attracted Akane's attention, and
Jonathan 'Call me Screwed' Peng's last sight, before he woke
up in intensive care six weeks later,  was of Tendou Akane
coming for him like a starving wolf after a rabbit.

@@@@@@@
END Chapter 18 Excerpt



START

Excerpt Chapter 19

[Akane is back from the hospital and recuperating at home.
She is heavily bandaged and 'Ranko' volunteers to stay with
her while Kasumi and Nabiki are out of the house. ]

**********


"I really hate to ask you to do this," Kasumi fretted as
Ranko helped her on with her coat, three days later "But
Nabiki is at cram school and my chemistry professor wants to
talk to me about my mid-term project."

    "No problem." Ranko assured her, handing Kasumi
her briefcase.

    "I wish you'd let me pay-----"

    "We've had this talk before," Ranko interrupted,
wrinkling her nose in the disarmingly-adorable way she'd
perfected in front of the mirror over the last several weeks.
"you're letting me stay here while my father is gone. So the
least I can do is help out."

    "If you're sure-----"

    "GO!" Laughingly Ranko pushed Kasumi out the
door and locked it behind her.  As soon as the lock clicked in
place her open laughing countenance disappeared like water
down the drain, leaving a more calculating expression in it's
place.

    Things were going even better than he'd dared hope.
Ranko had access to a mostly female family that Ranma could
never have hoped for. Kasumi trusted him, Nabiki was coming
around and Akane . . . he re-entered the family room and
quietly watched her sitting and listening to the newly replaced
TV. Blind and almost helpless Akane was slowly, almost
imperceptibly coming under his control. It was exactly like
pop had taught him you trained a  hawk or other wild animal,
he thought, moving to stand behind her.

    *Blind  her eyes,* Onna-Ranma thought looking at the
bandages wound around her head *an' th' meanest  junkyard
dog'll be docile and submissive." He lay a caressing hand
along her cheek.

    "KiiiiiiYAAAAA!"

    The reverse-knuckle strike hit Ranko in the temple
like a pile-driver.

     "owieeee." she whimpered,  sliding down the wall.

    "Ranko?" Akane began to blindly crawl along the
floor." Ranko? Is that you?"

    "I like okonomiyaki best of all, pop." Onna-Ranma
muttered.

    "What?" Akane followed the sound, feeling around
until she found a warm lump on the floor. "Ranko, are you
Ok?"

    "Uhhhhh . . ." Ranko groaned, feeling as if the Red
Army Band were folk dancing behind her eyeballs.

    "You shouldn't sneak up on a martial artist  like that."
Akane said, scooping Ranko awkwardly into her bandaged
arms. She stood, pausing to think about what to do next.

    "Bathroom," Ranko whispered, wincing from the pain
the effort caused.

    "Wouldn't you like some ice from the kitchen?"

    "Bathroom," Ranko repeated. "Throw up first. Then
bath."

    "You navigate," Akane said, turning in the general
direction of the bathroom. "I don't think you should be
exerting yourself with a bath, though."

    "Not me, you." Ranko said faintly, wrinkling her nose
at the smell, instantly regretting the move as it felt as if her
face was going to fall off. "you stink."

    "You need to learn to be more careful around Martial
Artists. If I hadn't pulled my blow," Akane slowly shuffled
toward the bathroom under Ranko's direction. " you could
have gotten hurt."

    *Dammit Pop,* onna-Ranma thought, laying limply in
Akane's arms. *What th' hell happened to your sure-fire,
never-fail, lost for centuries secret Tame-the-Wild-Badger-
New-Bride technique?*

    *Heh, Sorry boy," he could hear Genma as clearly as
if he were in the same room. "I guess I should have read the
entire scroll.*

*****

    "I feel a lot better," Akane said from the side of the
furro, "you ought to soak for a while too. You'll feel like a
new woman."

    *I'd feel like a new something.* Onna-Ranma
suppressed a manic giggle at the thought. "That's Ok, I'll soak
later." Even with Akane's eyes still bandaged, Ranma was still
nervous around all this hot water. Ever since he'd fallen into
the cursed pool, he  sometimes felt as if water was alive.

    "If you're sure." Akane sighed, sinking deeper into the
steaming depths of the furro.

    "Watch those bandages," Ranko snapped, grabbing for
Akane's arm as it started to submerge.

    Unfortunately, he missed and plunged his arm into the
steaming water past the elbow, triggering the change back to
male. "Gaaa!"Bug-eyed he stared at his now masculine arm,
then at Akane, convinced she could see clearly through the
thick bandage.

    "A . . .are you alright?" Akane started to grope blindly
around the edge of the furro, "You sound strange."Ranma
shook off his paralysis as Akane's blind groping  just brushed
his transformed arm and made a leap for the washing stand.

    "I just----" Ranma's baritone changed abruptly "I
thought I heard something," to  soprano under a spray of cold
water. "I'll be right back."

    Dashing out of the bath-room Ranko took a
shuddering breath, pressing a hand to her thundering heart.
That had been close-----her head snapped up as she heard a
noise from upstairs.

    *What . . .?* She started for the stairs, just as a pimply-
faced boy in a baggy pinstriped suit stuck his head out of the
kitchen.
    "Psssst . . .Kenji!" he whispered harshly, "have you
finished yet?"

    *Ah, crap.* What are you little piss-ants doin' here?*
Ranko groaned.

    "Get her!" A voice called. From _behind_ her.

    Ranko rubbed the bridge of her nose, feeling a
headache coming on, as two Seiki-Juka rushed her from
behind. Twisting fractionally she lowered her hips and the two
young thugs stumbled past, falling to the ground.

     She needed a cup of coffee.

    Suiting thought to deed she changed direction toward
the kitchen. "Scuse me," she nodded politely to the pimply boy
and edged past him into the kitchen, where three more boys
were enthusiastically pulling apart the shelves and tossing the
contents on the floor.

    *I _just_ cleaned in here!* Ranko bent to pick up a
broken bag of flower as the three lunged for her. Their heads
met with a sound like ripe melons and they collapsed,
groaning. *Now where . . .* she rummaged through the debris,
triumphantly producing a tin marked 'Coffee', then started
looking for the pot.

    "What th' hell is goin' on in-----"

    "They heard us chief!" Pimply-faced stuttered.

    "Akane can't see and this one's no fighter." The
'chief' assured him.

     "We've got to get out of here!" Pimply-faced was in a
panic.

    "Not 'till we finish."

    Ranko glanced over her shoulder to see a chunky,
surly-faced boy in a suit that actually fit, berating Pimply-
faced. She turned on the tap and started filling the pot.

    "Hey you!"

    Startled by his sudden shout, Ranko spun around,
'forgetting' she held the heavy pot in her hand. Chunky-boy
dropped like a pole-axed cow.

    "Ooops."

    Carefully measuring out the coffee, she filled the pot
and set it on the stove, then started to straighten up. She'd just
found the broom, where it had been thrown in the corner, when
suddenly the kitchen was filled with a horde of pinstripe-suited
thug-wannabe's.

    "What did you do to the chief?!" A wannabe yelled,
striking at Ranko with something that looked vaguely like a
Karate front-knuckle-fist.  Ranko appeared mildly puzzled as
he broke his hand on the bamboo broom that she was holding.

    "Gotcha!" A heavy hand came down on her shoulder,
spinning her around. Unfortunately the end of her broom
slashed across the face of a boy coming up behind her.

    "Are you alright?" Ranko turned toward the sound of
his scream, as the boy holding her somehow lost his grip.
Moving to help the boy who was holding his hands to his face,
she shifted the broom out of the way, accidently driving the
end into the diaphragm of the boy who had been holding her
and he fell to the ground, whooping for breath.

    Moving the blinded boy toward a chair, he somehow
stumbled in the way of two boys who where just rushing into
the kitchen and they all tumbled to the ground.

    "I'm so sorry," Ranko apologized to a green faced boy
who'd broken her fall with his groin. "Are you alright?"
Pulling herself up by grabbing the edge of the table, she
inadvertently tipped the table and it's contents onto the
groaning tangle of bodies, who were abruptly quieted.

    "Ranko!"

    She looked longingly at the coffee which had just
started to perk.

    "Ranko? Is everything alright?"

    "Pardon me." Ranko edged past Pimply-face who was
frozen in the doorway. In the family room were four more
Seiki-Juka.

    *Damn, just like cockroaches.*

    "Ranko, what's going on. Who's here?" Akane stood
dripping water on the floor, heavily bandaged head turning
slowly back and forth.

     Ranko watched a trickle of water run down the deep
cleft made by massive pectoral muscles, divide and join
several times as it wound around the cobblestones of her belly
toward-----

    There was a tiny gasp from a boy standing to her right
and Akane turned heavily toward the sound, the muscles in her
back flexing like corded steel  as she brought her bandaged
arms up in a guard position.

    "Who's there!" Her voice held a bark of challenge and
Ranko was mesmerized by the sight of muscles and tendons
writhing  like giant steel cables as she settled into a ready
stance. "I'm starting to get mad." Akane took a step forward,
the hard hemispheres of her buttocks softening and tightening
as she moved, tiny diamonds of water glistening on her skin.

    Ranko shook off her paralysis as one of the boys
groaned, the sound cutting off abruptly as the redhead drove a
hard fist into his temple. "Pervert!"

     That broke the spell, and the boy closest to Akane
leapt on her from behind, wrapping his arm around her neck in
a full-nelson.

    "Don't move, or I'll break her-----" Akane shrugged
irritably, tearing the boy lose from his hold and flinging him
against the wall.

    "Ranko, what's ------owww!" She awkwardly raised a
bandaged hand to rub at her head. "That wasn't nice." she
complained mildly,  while one of the Seiki-Juka stared blankly
at the splintered bamboo staff in his hand.

    "Just some friends of Kuno," Ranko replied, kicking
the staff wielding idiot between the legs from behind, then
again in the side of the head as he fell.

    "Senpai?" Akane sounded puzzled. "What do they
want?"

    "I think they wanted to surprise you by cleaning up,"
the pimply-faced boy nodded vigorously, "and restocking the
kitchen," Pimply-faced was about to give himself whiplash.
He couldn't agree fast enough.

    "C'mon" Ranko took Akane by the arm and lead her
toward the bathroom. " back in the furro before you get a
chill."

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