[Ranma][NGE][HPL][AMG][Fusion][Fanfic] Sic Semper Morituri Chapter 17 -
Lessons From Your Enemy
Disclaimer:
I do not own any of the characters from Ranma 1/2, Neon Genesis Evangelion,
Ah My Goddess, or the Lovecraft Cycle involved in these stories. And I'll
put them back when I've finished with them.
C&C , MSTs are welcome
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I'm really a very bad man, but I'm a very good wizard.
- with apologies to Lyman Frank Baum
Chapter 17 - Lessons From Your Enemy
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Pen Pen
Pen Pen walked through the apartment and picked up the beer cans.
They provided a sufficient material for his purpose. The Children were at
school, Misato was at work. He assembled the cans on the patio, outside the
ward's protective magic, in a specific pattern, he'd done it often enough
before, through repetition, he could do it in his sleep.
The penguin closed his eyes, bowed his head, "Waak," he said
softly. "Waaak!" with more force, "WAAARK!" he screamed, raising his head
and flippers high.
There was an answering rumble, Pen Pen flopped down on his belly,
his head bowed. A small cloud of gray fog formed over the collection of
beer cans. Another rumble from within, Pen Pen stood instantly. An
interrogative rumble from within the cloud.
Pen Pen's head bobbed up and down rapidly as if in apology, then he
stood perfectly still. Another rumble.
Pen Pen squawked furiously, running in a circle, a rumble, Pen Pen
continued his frantic squawking but was alternating between a deep note and
falsetto.
A rumble. Pen Pen drew a flipper across his throat. A rumble of
approval, then another that questioned.
"Wark!" Pen Pen mimed pushing glasses up his nose, "Waak, waark!"
A rumble of approval, a moment of consideration, then a rumble that
sounded almost like a cash register. Pen Pen picked up two cans, placing
one on his head and another under his arm. Dumped them off a moment later.
An angry rumble. Pen Pen stepped back, glancing around. He picked
up a pair of cans again, putting them back on his head and under his arm.
He walked back and forth with firm purpose.
Another rumble of approval. Pen Pen hopped up and down, squawking
frantically, he ran to the kitchen pointing to an area on the kitchen floor,
in front of the oven. The linoleum peeled back. A rumble of grudging
approval and the hidden metal pattern altered slightly. The linoleum
flopped back and sealed to the floor. The cloud headed to the other points
Pen Pen indicated, and made similar changes. It paused above the pile of
beer cans in the living room, another interrogative rumble, so carefully
neutral it couldn't be anything except a rebuke. Pen Pen kicked the pile of
cans and hung his head in defeat. A soft rumble that went on for some time.
Pen Pen nodded occasionally in agreement.
The fog vanished as Pen Pen scattered the cans on the patio. Deep
in thought, he walked back to his refrigerator to consider, his progress,
and his failures. A pair of legs blocked the entry. Pen Pen looked up at
the suited figure, a can a beer replacing the ever-present fedora.
He screamed, "Wark!!" and jumped a good meter backwards.
"Feathers, we have to talk," Jeff told the penguin. Pen Pen hung
his head in defeat.
----------------------------------------
Ranko Learns
Ranko had both hands around Raccoon's throat as she leaned close,
Raccoon's lips were skinned back in an odd snarl.
Nabiki glanced at Ritsuko, across the dining room table, who was
watching with intense interest and expectation. Nabiki was nervous,
something had to work, something had to break the deadlock that had
developed.
"Loch, lock," Raccoon intoned, "Bach, bock."
Ranko shifted her hands, nodded, losing not one bit of her
ferocious intensity.
"Loch, lock, Bach, bock."
Ranko twisted to each sides, peering closer to see Raccoon's tongue
and teeth, nodded.
"Loch, lock, Bach, bock."
Ranko released her grip and leaned back against the dining room
table they were all sitting around. "Roch, rock, Bach, bock."
"Loch, lock."
Nabiki relaxed, Ranma had progressed more in one session, than two
weeks of their frustratingly, fruitless efforts.
"Okay, we'll work on the l's and r's."
Ranko resumed the seeming-death grip on Raccoon's throat and
peering at his mouth.
"Luscious lemon-yellow lollipops, rarely remain red." He repeated
himself several times as Ranko looked, front, left, right, shifting her
hands, even skinning his lips back herself, to get the nuances of the
pronunciations.
Then she quietly mouthed the sentence, with Raccoon saying it
softly.
"Luscious - lemon - yellow - lollipops - rarely - remain - red."
"I think she's got it."
Ranko repeated herself with greater speed and confidence, running
to and hugging each of her tutors in turn. Nabiki thought she was lingering
a little longer with Raccoon.
"How?" Ritsuko asked.
"Ranma-san said he could learn any move easily, and I watched him
do it, a few experiments with Ranko determined she could too, and it wasn't
just Martial Arts, it was any body movement."
"Kinesthetic Eidetic Memory," Ranko said proudly, although she
clearly didn't know what it meant, she was giddy she could pronounce it so
easily.
Nabiki felt a little stab of jealousy, when Ranko hugged Raccoon
again, despite Raccoon's slight discomfort at the demonstrative aspects of
Ranko's joy. She was beginning to look on him as a rival, although
logically, Raccoon would only be a rival for Ranko, not Ranma. What hurt,
was she'd never seen Ranma/Ranko so happy, even back in Nerima nobody had
made him so happy. She idly wondered what would happen if Ranko actually
kissed Raccoon, what Ranma would do, what Raccoon would do, what _she_ would
do. The way Ranko was carrying on, they might all find out.
"Ranko," Raccoon said gently, when she didn't stop, more harshly,
"Ranko-san!"
She stopped, stricken.
"Show the good Doctor what else you learned." The two exchanged
grins.
Ranko ran through all the major bones and muscle groups in her arms
and legs. She'd touch the area of the bone, or flex her arm or leg to make
the named muscle do its job, then pronounce the name and if the muscle was
extending or contracting.
Ritsuko was open mouthed at this.
Ranko was giggling with delight at her accomplishment.
"It's not a panacea," Raccoon explained, as Ranko's hug nearly
dragged him out of his chair, "But it should help with English and some
other subjects that involve movement, writing for example; Math and
Literature . . . well, I'm working on it."
"Again," Ritsuko demanded, "How did you do this?"
"Doctor, I've been earning a living teaching for four years, at
Harvard, and I was studying to be a military intelligence officer, that
means dropping into enemy territory, and training the local resistance into
an effective fighting force. I studied how to teach."
"So you could make a 5th Column to blow us all up?" Ritsuko asked
sardonically.
Raccoon only shrugged.
Nabiki hugged the delighted girl back, as Ranko came around to her
on her celebratory circle. She was shocked when Ranko kissed her on the
lips, then rubbed her cheek against Nabiki's, then bounced off to hug
Ritsuko.
"Don't get too happy," Ritsuko hugged Ranko, "We still have math to
do."
Ranko's joy turned to disappointment and dread.
Nabiki wished Ritsuko had let Ranko keep being deliriously happy,
for just a little while longer.
"Algebra," Raccoon considered, "Katas, bits and pieces that don't
make sense initially."
----------------------------------------
An hour later.
"Raccoon, you looked like you've been fighting with Ranko," Nabiki
chuckled at that, he did look exhausted and slightly punchy, as he glared
back at her.
However, Ranko was grinding through the math homework, with an
expression that would have promised untold mayhem to any mortal opponent.
Ritsuko had objected to the rigid procedure, Ranko and Raccoon had overruled
her. Ranko explained she'd learn when to drop the steps from the procedure.
Nabiki was amazed at the progress she was making, this success silenced
Ritsuko's objections.
"We still have to do Literature," Nabiki said, laying her head
exhaustedly on the table. The only one of them who hadn't gone through the
wringer was Ranko. She looked grim, but still happy. Nabiki noted Ritsuko
looked nearly as bad as Raccoon.
"Enough," Raccoon stood, "We don't have to win everything in one
night. Accept you've won, and let's get some sleep." He walked drunkenly
away from the table.
"I can - " Ranko was unwilling to stop now that she was winning.
"No," Raccoon told her tiredly, angrily, he paused to get his
temper under control, "Besides, with you working at the table, I'll never
get any sleep. Which I clearly need." He headed for the bedroom.
"How do you figure that?" Ranko asked, putting away the papers and
books.
"Well, I already changed the sheets and turned the mattress, you
can sleep in Ranma's bed. I'll sleep out here."
"What about your bed?" Ranko asked.
"What about it?" he dropped a pile of blankets and sheets on one of
the couches.
Ranko was confused.
Nabiki just shook her head, as she stood and stretched, she was
having almost as much trouble moving as Raccoon, Ranko of course would get
the bed, and it wouldn't be `proper` for him to sleep in the same room, she
summarized the entire argument in her head. It was a predictable
side-effect of Raccoon not believing the curse.
As he laid out the makeshift bedroll, Ritsuko went into the
kitchen, and started running the hot water.
After he'd settled in, Nabiki walked over, checked him closely,
"Don't bother, Doc, he's dead to the world."
"It's not fair," Ranma pulled his hand out of the hot water.
"Well, you want to move him?" Nabiki asked, lifting, then dropping
an arm, "I don't think anything will wake him up."
----------------------------------------
>From the Journal of Jeffrey Kevin Davis
I think I'm in real trouble. I learned that the Staff revealed
itself to Ranko, that is serious, but by no means fatal. She'll keep the
secret.
However, I also learned that Ranko used the Staff to rescue
Ayanami. This would not be a problem if,
1.) Ranko or Ayanami was within 3-4 degrees of consanguinity,
2.) I had transferred ownership with informed consent, after all, Kavon lost
the bet, and I got his Staff,
3.) The scary one: Consummated marriage, in dragon-terms that requires the
sincere intention by both parties to produce and raise baby dragons.
Dragons mate for life.
Now I suspect that the spirit bound within the Staff might bend the
rules if necessary, Kavon was a wily old dragon, and a trickster, as well as
a good friend. But all that would only extend it to this:
1.) 6-8 levels of consanguinity, which still limits it to my relatives in
North America, England, Scotland, or the Ruhr district of Germany, so Ranko
and Ayanami don't qualify. Unless there's something my parents didn't tell
me.
2.) Temporary loan, there is no way I could have given any kind of consent,
informed or not.
3.) This one could be pushed slightly into the future, and changed to human
offspring. With the differences between dragon and human gestation times,
then the Staff scanned all possible futures it could, and it is certain that
in _all_ of them, that I will impregnate Ranko or Ayanami, sometime in the
next five months, and the pregnancy will go to term, producing at least one
live offspring. While this means it is possible that in some futures I
partnered with Ayanami, in others I partnered with Ranko, or both. That
small variation does _not_ fill me with joy.
Frankly, Ranma would kill me if I got Ranko pregnant, with Nabiki
and Dr. Akagi bringing up a close second. The Ikaris, likewise for Ayanami,
and I cannot determine any reason I would get close enough to either
(physically or emotionally) to even make the attempt.
While the possibility of a future unforeseen exists, I think it
would be best to avoid them both for the next few months. This
unfortunately, still assumes that I would be the initiator. As humiliating
as it is to contemplate, I could not match either in hand-to-hand combat,
without resorting to lethal force. I think such an event completely
unlikely, except I ran the prognostications myself. The chance the Staff is
right: 16 nines: 99.99999999999999%, I have 1 chance in 10 quadrillion to
get out of this.
Even if I agreed with this destiny/fate, now is not the right time
to start and raise a family, I'm definitely not ready, neither Ranko nor
Ayanami are, and the idea of having a Child of the Children anywhere Gendo
Ikari could get his hands on, that is enough to give _me_ nightmares. And
I'm not the least romantically interested in either of them.
That leads to the second half, Ranko asked for some very special
help. I am suspicious of the coincidence. Even though I suggested the
operation initially, I am no longer comfortable with the level of intimacy
it entails. Her plan is simple and relatively foolproof, Captain Katsuragi
should take lessons. But not completely without risk, or complications.
But to refuse for these reasons, would undermine the trust she has
in me, and she has too few she can trust now. Hemmed around with enemies
and false admirers, and threatened directly by Ranma, it would not do to
abandon her because of something that I fear _may_ happen.
Who knows? Ranko or Rei may be a relative, then I'd be worrying
for nothing. Testing for genetics would provide the answer, and be
prohibitively difficult, even with the additional help I could get, they
were supposed to be expert geneticists after all. We all have different
blood-types, but that doesn't automatically rule everything else out, and
there are no records of the parentage of either.
It's in my nature to worry, so many things can go wrong, but this
complication is completely unexpected. And unwelcome.
----------------------------------------
Playhouse Beguilement
The school day began, Ranko steeled herself to do what she had to,
what she herself had planned. She entered the classroom and walked over to
Raccoon's desk. "Davis-san," she said quietly, coquettishly. She was aware
of the rapid reduction in volume, as every eye tracked to her and him. "I
wanted to thank you, thank you so much." She moved closer, took his face in
her hands, "Let me know how a lady can expect to be treated." She leaned
down and touched her forehead to his. She was aware of the tension in him,
without reading his ki, she couldn't be sure if it was real or feigned.
"Relax," he said so only she could hear, "You can get through
this." "You deserve no less," he said louder, "You are a real lady."
Ranko ignored Asuka's guffaw, that Hikari's elbow converted into a
squawk. She was trembling now, it made things seem more real. They had
agreed she would set the pace. It's just an act, it's all fake, she
reminded herself, brushed her lips against his, immediately pulled back,
blushing furiously. That too, would add to the effect. She leaned forward
again, brushed her cheek against his, "There's more," she promised. Hoping
he'd understand, and the others would misinterpret what she meant.
That wasn't part of the plan, but she hoped he was as good at
improvisation as he claimed. She took his thermos, clutched it to her
breast and left, giggling and hugging the token. She heard dozens of heart
shattering as she ran from the room, pausing at the doorway to stare at him
and wave shyly, before she disappeared.
Behind her, the room exploded with noise, everyone was demanding to
know when this had happened, what had happened to make this occur. Toji
tearfully accused Raccoon of conspiring to steal her away. Raccoon
countered that _she_ had made the decision, had pursued the relationship,
not the other way around. The girls thought it was all so romantic, except
Asuka, who seemed to have gone into hysterics. Pouring the thermos over her
head, started the second, completely improvised, and most important act.
"Davis!" Ranma slammed the door to the classroom open, "Ranko told
me everything." The room fell silent, Raccoon stood up. The battle that
had been discussed, speculated about, and feared, was about to erupt in
their midst. He threw the empty thermos at Raccoon. Right over the plate,
he saw Raccoon smoothly catch it, and set it aside. Their gazes locked and
held for several moments, neither looked away, then Ranma advanced on a
straight path. People cleared out of his way, he bulled through the empty
desks.
"Teaching her to be a real lady, huh," he shouted, "What else have
you been teaching her?!"
"I was a perfect gentleman, if you had been, perhaps she would have
stayed with you," Raccoon stood his ground, answered Ranma's fervor with his
own glacial demeanor, "Why is it your business?"
"You made it my business." Ranma glanced at the window, was glad
Raccoon got the idea. He punched, brushed Raccoon's cheek as he twisted
out of the way, and smashed the concrete wall behind him. Raccoon slammed
both fists into Ranma's ribs, throwing him through the desks to the window.
Ayanami scrambled out of the way, she looked ready to intervene.
As Ranma stood, his elbow brushed open the window catch, "What else
did the little tramp do? Huh?"
Raccoon brushed the thin stream of fake blood Ranma's punch had
painted across his cheekbone, "You take that back, Saotome. Right. Now."
He drew his walking stick, held it like a sword.
"That's what she is, marry you to get your money." Ranma expected
the shout of rage and the tackle that pushed both of them out the window,
"Go limp!" He felt Raccoon forming his AT field to further reduce the
impact. Ranma knew he was a lot tougher than the other boy, so he could
take the impact. He did.
"What you said - " Raccoon said groggily, but with real anger.
"_She_, wrote it," he replied, dragging Raccoon to his feet, making
it look like they were wrestling, choking each other.
"Who wins it?" Raccoon asked as he broke away.
"You!" Ranma shouted, charged, his `punch` picked up and threw
Raccoon right to his walking stick, as the class poured out onto the field.
Ranma came to a dead halt as Raccoon rolled to a kneeling position, held his
cane tight in his armpit, like a rifle.
"You wouldn't use that, not on a human being, would you?" Ranma let
fear suffuse his voice, he glanced worriedly around.
"Are you a human being, or a bug, to be stepped on?" Raccoon asked
coldly as he stood, Ranma could almost believe Raccoon would kill him.
Time to end this, Ranma thought, he wasn't sure how long they could
keep this up. Nabiki was gauging who she could count on when she moved to
intervene, she had Rei, Asuka and Hiroko firmly on her side. With them, she
was ready to intervene at any moment.
"If you were a real man, you'd fight me fair!" His eyes twitched
to the side, he saw Raccoon's do the same.
"Your funeral, Saotome." He tossed the walking stick away, it
landed standing straight upright in the dirt.
Show off, Ranma thought, not sure if he meant Raccoon or the stick.
He made his screaming charge, then dodged sideways to grab the stick with
both hands.
"AAUURGH!" Ranma screamed as loud and as high as he could, before
he collapsed in a heap. The Navy and Marine security troops were arriving
now, jeeps full, the ones with mounted machine guns were in the forefront.
Raccoon walked over, stepped over Ranma, picked up the cane, "Did
you think I'd be stupid enough to leave it around unguarded? Idiot!"
With the fight over, the Navy troops and Marines weren't sure what
to do.
"Tendo-san, help me carry his carcass to the lab, maybe Dr. Akagi
can install some brains while she's at it," Ranma heard Raccoon shout, then
the two of them picked him up and loaded him in a jeep.
"What is going on?" Nabiki hissed.
"Keep a straight face, or I'll give you a reason to look somber,"
Raccoon told her as the jeeps drove back off of school grounds.
----------------------------------------
Ritsuko had heard from Security, that Ranma and Davis had finally
come to blows, to the point of throwing each other out a third story window.
She had the surgery prepared, as well as the entire medical staff. She had
a strong feeling that neither of the pair would give up the fight, until
they'd been torn to pieces.
She didn't know why Admiral Simson, and General Tomlinson had
decided to visit the med lab, today of all days.
The sounds of hilarious laughter from her two expected patients, as
well as the Security guards, wasn't what she was expecting. Neither were
the smiles from the American `brass`. Although Nabiki's expression
indicated she might soon need medical attention, or people around her might.
"Me!?" Davis's affronted dignity, "I overplayed my part? I didn't
decide to jump out a window!"
"You still did it," Ranma countered.
"Why didn't you tell me you were going to do that?" Nabiki's tone
threatened Hell, Death and Damnation, if her question wasn't answered.
Right, NOW!
"It was Ranko's idea, give it ver - vera - veris - "
"Verisimilitude, truthfulness," Davis corrected, "It also let's you
keep your title as undisputed best fighter, although I did hold my own,
barely."
"Then what's this?" Ritsuko rubbed the red liquid on Davis's cheek,
it didn't feel like blood.
"Fake, I put some under my fingernail, dabbed it on as my fist went
past," Ranma was obviously very proud of himself.
Ritsuko decided she could dismiss the medical teams, then she was
going to get to the bottom of this. She also hadn't decided what or if
punishment was appropriate. _Someone_, and she could guess who, had told
Security and the Military what was going to happen, but the boys had
neglected to inform - her. She considered that, was she angry because, like
Nabiki, she'd been kept ignorant when her boys did something foolish, or was
she thinking about the danger to the project. She didn't know. At least
Davis and Ranma seem friendlier now than they have been. Although Miss
Tendo looks mad enough to chew armor plate. She could tell, the prankster
in Ranma had been awakened, as long as she could put up with their bragging,
she'd get the whole story.
----------------------------------------
Rei cowered in her apartment, she had thought of her sanctuary was
inviolable. She needed a quiet evening, after the odd occurrences at
school. But she had a new intruder, the Cthonians were better somehow, only
she would be destroyed by them.
"Your relationship with Ikari Shinji concerns them," Belldandy told
her.
"Yes," Rei felt her world ending, she needed to be with Shinji-kun,
if she could no longer . . . she also believed that ending it would hurt
him.
"I do sympathize, but you agreed to this," Belldandy gently
reminded her, "You can still meet with him in dreams."
"Yes," Rei bowed her head, she had made her agreement, she now
suspected she had made it badly.
Belldandy was looking around, "We will speak again later." The
goddess left through the door, the reason Rei made sure there were no
reflective surfaces anywhere in her apartment, or the ones immediately
above, below, or to either side. She knew her agreement would save
Shinji-kun's life, and many others, but at what cost to her?
----------------------------------------
Jeff lowered his telescope, "Well, isn't that just lovely. One of
_them_._" He looked to the sky, "God, you are my God, and you Sir, are
having too much fun at my expense. Another useless distraction," he
wondered how he could untangle this latest complication. He finally got
some trustworthy back up, they just bought Ranko some breathing room, then
this happened.
"I should have let the Dragon kill them when he was here," he
sighed, "It would have simplified things."
----------------------------------------
Jeff walked along the river, consciously retracing the steps the
Dragon had taken, for the same reason, to get away from witnesses or
collateral casualties, if it came to violence. Unfortunately, only Rei was
getting close.
Cowards, he thought, then turned and marched towards her, intent on
confronting the ones hiding behind her.
She caught his arm as he walked by, "Please," she said desperately,
glanced at him, looked down.
"Are you such cowards, you have to hide behind a frightened girl?!"
he shouted at them, he couldn't see them, but he knew they were there. They
were always there, being without doing.
"Please," Rei turned him away from the confrontation.
"Rei-san, the word angels means literally: messengers. They have
no more understanding of the actual message, or right to interpret it, than
has the piece of paper a telegram is printed on. Any interpretation of what
they told you, is up to you, their reading of it, can be discarded," he
paused, continued more quietly, "Don't assume they're omniscient. They can
be wrong, they can be stupid, and they can lie."
Rei stared at him in utter disbelief. He nodded, trying to
reassure her. He didn't want to go into _how_ he knew, but he'd seen it,
been the victim of it.
"Yes, they can betray, in small things and large, and they can be
killed."
Rei's eyes went wide with shock.
"I'm not just talking, I've seen it. Their loyalty is not to us,
but they demand our loyalty, because they answer to a Higher Power. Or some
claim to. They could be lying, about who they work with and for. Some of
them switch sides, I've seen that, too." Jeff was aware that Rei's grip on
his arm was becoming painful. But she had to learn, those things had many
of the failings of humans, hubris, was practically an epidemic among them.
In few cases, did they deal well with the seeming insanity of
humans. Jeff also knew that they'd left the mythos problem for the humans
to deal with, for reasons no human could adequately understand, the frames
of reference and priorities of the two groups were just too different.
He'd leave who was actually right up to God. In his experience,
neither side got it right all the time. Sometimes both got it wrong, he had
a few scars from that happening too. Humans could rise far above or fall
vastly below, scaring a girl until she was too petrified to move, hardly
seemed an efficient way to operate.
"They said . . . " Rei stopped, unwilling to continue.
"Yes, I know," All those defenses against magic and eavesdropping,
bypassed by a dime-store telescope and lip reading! "It doesn't mean
anything," he realized she was crying. "All it means is they are concerned,
not _how_ they're concerned," he wiped her tears away, "Why don't you two
come with Tendo-san and me this Sunday, we're going to a restaurant, you
might want to give young Ikari-san a chance to see how pretty you look in
one of your new dresses."
"Shinji-kun picked them," she admitted.
"Well, you can show you appreciate his help, or are they all
terrible?"
Rei shook her head.
"Well, if you have to think about it that way, consider it a
learning experience, practicing a social skill you don't have."
She nodded, released the deathgrip she'd had on his arm, stepped
away.
He thought she wanted to say something, then she turned and broke
into a run. He doubted, even with his enhanced speed, he could have kept
up. Instead he rubbed some feeling back in his arm, while he scanned the
area, he wished he could find his target. He wasn't sure what he would have
done, too often they underestimated `mere` humans, forgetting that `mere`
humans, also contained the Breath of God.
Jeff pulled his coat around him, he suddenly felt very cold. He
was in a foul mood now, but he smiled, he knew how to lighten it. It wasn't
exactly legal, but _he'd_ enjoy it. He walked off smiling.
----------------------------------------
Nabiki wondered why she'd been told to come here, then Raccoon and
Rei had their odd confrontation. Different from the last time `Rei` and
`Jeff` had confronted each other on the same spot, when the real ones were
both in the hospital, a desperation and fright in Rei, and a rage at . . .
something, from Raccoon.
Whatever it was, Nabiki felt sorry for it. If Raccoon caught it,
he'd kill it, twice. Or anything _else_ nasty he runs into this evening,
Nabiki thought.
She debated which of the two she should follow. Rei was again
returning to her apartment, at a rate of speed that would do Ranma proud,
and again Raccoon was heading for the Naval Base at a determined walk.
She decided she'd follow Raccoon, actually get inside the Base
ahead of him, she'd lost the other one when it entered the Base.
If I can get there first, Nabiki thought about the best place to be
in position, to observe what happened next. She hoped he didn't stay out
too late, Ritsuko would be in a temper if they came in too late.
----------------------------------------
Belldandy watched her three `targets` head off from this
rendezvous. She had to admit, sometimes she _didn't_ understand humans, and
sometimes she received orders that made no sense what-so-ever. This had
been both. A specific sentence to Ayanami Rei at a specific time, following
a phone call to Tendo Nabiki, with another very specific message. Now,
suddenly, eight major objectives were advanced, without any further action
on her part, or revealing her presence to any of their enemies. KamiSama
was KamiSama, and she was not, but the subtlety of this maneuver had
completely escaped her, until a few moments ago. All her concerns had been
fully answered, she now followed Tendo Nabiki unseen.
She had heard stories from El Nureenen's War, about the 35 who had
forsworn both Heaven and Hell to join him. She'd discounted the stories as
impossible, always spoken as rumors. They were finally brought down, by the
Hosts, and the hounds. The best, most capable, clever and driven, some
would say obsessive, warriors they, and their fallen brethren, had to offer.
Still, the rumors also claimed the 35 were harried, coursed, and chivvied
from their sanctums, onto the killing grounds, by a band of humans.
Like many others, she honestly believed that no human could have
done what they reported, not even true sorcerers, but they told the stories
in the Angelic Tongue, and a lie simply could not have been spoken. She
knew enough to realize a great deal could be left _unspoken_.
----------------------------------------
"Where have you been?" Dr. Akagi asked angrily, it was nearly
eleven o'clock, she was already cross with Nabiki, who'd arrived only
fifteen minutes earlier. She'd warmed up on Nabiki, and was going to let
this young man have a piece of her mind. This day had been shocking enough
already.
"I was hunting down the darkest, plagues of fear and the night, and
slaying them according to their kinds." Jeff told her in the super polite
form, he bowed formally, "I humbly apologize for losing track of time. But
I was behind my monthly quota, now I can stay home for the rest of the week,
to concentrate on homework."
Dr. Akagi's mind ground to a halt, he was so earnest and serious
about it. He's telling a story, he must be. Platitudes were all her mind
could manage for the moment, "If you're going to be out, you should call and
tell me."
"Understood, again I apologize." He bowed slightly, and headed for
the bathroom.
Dr. Akagi was still nonplused, her anger was gone. Nabiki had been
better, she'd been evasive. Was Jeff being evasive? I think I'll have
Commander Ikari put an additional tail on him for the immediate future.
----------------------------------------
In the bathroom Jeff laved off the day's sweat and grime with cold
water, Stupid saying something like that. It aroused her suspicions, she'll
be more wary now, limiting my actions.
He sighed tiredly, he had to admit, he was still a kid, and kids
sometimes did kid things. Still, the look on her face was _priceless_.
I'll have to impress the image on a piece of film to capture the moment
properly.
----------------------------------------
Nabiki stared at the ceiling of the bedroom she shared with
Akagi-sensei. She heard Raccoon come in, and Dr. Akagi's angry
confrontation, worse than the one she'd gotten. He'd said something too
soft for her to overhear, it had calmed the Doctor immediately. He was in
the bathroom now, and would soon join Ranma in the room they shared, the
Doctor apparently hadn't moved. Maybe she's just stunned, Nabiki considered.
She'd trailed Jeff onto the base, and what she saw simply amazed
her.
Nobody that young, could be that good. She'd seen professionals
who could exceed him for technical prowess, but no one she'd ever seen could
put their heart and soul into it like he had. Forty Marines and sailors, a
tough crowd, hardened professionals. They hadn't stood a chance, a few left
before he really got going. _She_ was crying by the end of it, and she
_never_ let things get to her like that. He'd finished, tipped his hat,
collected his coat with a real spring in his step. He was positively
beaming. She hadn't been able to stay and watch the aftermath, not if she
was going to beat him home. Whom could she tell, who'd believe her?
"Can I make some money off it? Should I even try?" she wondered
aloud. Too much to think about, she concluded, Make a plan in the morning.
----------------------------------------
Ferreting Out Wildcats
Have you considered doing that in front of an audience? I followed
you to the base last night, have you thought of going professional? Last
night was incredible, could you . . . Nabiki was frustrated, normally she
could broach any subject with anyone, now she was getting tongue-tied, Maybe
it's not the what, but the who. She couldn't get around her anger at being
pitied, at being considered less than fully capable. Maybe it's genetic,
she laughed inwardly at that, Akane was always proclaiming she was a martial
artist, too, although she was clearly the weakest by far, of all those who
classified themselves that way. Here it's me, she thought, Look at me, I'm
clever. But not brilliant like Dr. Akagi, Asuka, Raccoon, or even Rei, in
her areas of interest. I'm sneaky, but ditto. And _that_ bugs you, doesn't
it? She discarded that line of thinking. Yesterday she'd been
outmaneuvered and left in the dust, by plans and schemes of others, even
RANMA'S! Now this, something _else_ she didn't know about, like Hiroko's
'special friend', until reality thrust it in her face. Then, going back
over things, it had been there all along, like Ranma's skills. Nobody's
been approaching Hiroko while I've been spending time with her, she thought,
Did I scare them off?
I need to do something completely different, something 'un-me',
just to keep up and shake myself loose of my presumptions, she looked at her
fellow pilots, Right now, I want some answers.
She finally had her opportunity, after the others had joined them
on the walk to school. Asuka was defiantly following Ranma on his walk
along the top of the fence. Nabiki had absolutely _no_ idea where that
impulse had come from. She wasn't teasing Ranma, saying nothing to him at
all, but was managing to match his pace, if not his poise. Shinji and Rei
were up ahead, enjoying each other's silence.
"I followed you last night," she said carefully.
"And?" Raccoon asked neutrally.
"What you did, on the base, I mean, it was like nothing I've - have
you considered doing that professionally. It was just incredible."
"As good as Saotome-san, even?" he asked, "He's supposed to be the
best at everything, as long as it's a contest."
"Don't be jealous, if Ranma wanted to, he could be as, well,
skilled, but it wouldn't have the fervor, the fire of last night. People
want to see that."
"People would pay money for that you think?" he asked sardonically.
"Are you kidding? That was fantastic, magic even, I could get an
audience no problem."
"There is more truth than you know. The answer is 'no'." He kept
his voice low, but she could tell, the conversation was over as far as he
was concerned.
"Why? Renting a hall can't be that expensive. There'd be a lot of
people who pay a lot of money for the experience. We could do it for
charity."
"Tendo Nabiki-san, you are an intelligent and observant member of
the species, more so than most. What part of 'no' escapes your
comprehension? I chose to do what I did last night, when I choose, when I
find a group I think deserves it. When _I_ need to do it. To employ my
skills elsewise is - not what I would desire."
"Why you hide what you can do, is what I don't understand," Nabiki
retorted angrily.
"I could get in a great deal of trouble for it, for one thing. I
don't want it common knowledge, for another. Some of those men had a taste
of what I could do, why do you think they left? Some people can take it,
some can't, I won't force anyone to stay, if they leave, more power to
them." He took her arm, "Some secrets should stay secrets. This. Is. One.
If you want to be told when the mood strikes me, that I can do. And do us
both a favor, don't throw words like `magic` around so casually. There are
important truths, to which you'll be made blind."
"Thanks, Yoda. I wish I could have recorded the whole thing."
"Bing Crosby's company developed a machine to tape such things,
audio and visual, the equipment is truly immense and the tapes are the size
of an office dictionary. Somebody has got to improve the technology."
She could sympathize with his confusion when she burst out
laughing.
"By the way. I'll need your assistance dealing with a problem that
Ayanami-san and Ikari-san have gotten themselves into. Don't tell
Saotome-san, either of them. I think our two shrinking violets need some
quiet, supervised time, and prickling Saotome-san's curiosity should advance
things between you two. Perhaps the ballet with Ranko, next Saturday, will
help further," Raccoon said.
"What do I get out of it?" Nabiki asked, How is he going to get
Ranma to agree to go to the ballet?
"Very well, my treat, you can even bring Hiroko along as a
chaperone, on Saturday."
"Oh, in that case of course!" Nabiki said with sarcastic
enthusiasm, "You know money can't buy happiness." Especially where Ranma's
concerned.
"No, but then you hire tutors, like any other professional
service."
Now who's teasing who? Nabiki frowned.
"Besides, who wants to be happy," Raccoon told her, "I'd rather be
useful. Wouldn't you?" he smirked and picked up the pace.
Nabiki frowned at his receding back, Like I'm not now?
----------------------------------------
"This looks like the reverse of the Marine Raider battalions,"
Colonel Stedman looked over the proposed table of organization of the Ready
Reaction Force. "Where are we going to get the engineers this needs?"
Colonel Stedman looked over to Admiral Simson and General Tomlinson, who
were with him in his office at NERV.
"Some of those `engineers` are going to be trained and equipped
with flamethrowers and satchel charges, they won't be true engineers.
Actually, we'll only double the number of true engineers in the formation,
the rest will be specially-trained riflemen. That shouldn't put too much
strain on our other formations. Sea Bees can make up the lack in non-combat
formations," Admiral Simson explained, he hardly needed their approval, but
he wanted to see if they could knock any holes in his idea.
"How many battalions are we talking about?" General Tomlinson
asked.
"Three Army, two Marines. Combined with several tank battalions
all with flame guns, it will reduce the number in our regular battalions,
but we have a large number of the old M3 Satans, we'll be using those with
the Flame Shermans, in the Ready Reaction Companies."
"It seems a risk to concentrate our formations this way," Stedman
said, "But I don't see we have any real choice. My only suggestion would be
to designate a squadron of fighter-bombers: Corsairs and Thunderbolts, to
each company. Also armed with rockets and incendiaries. Also you'll want
to get the gunners of your ships trained up, even the secondaries of the
Coral Sea."
"I agree, the 12 and 16 inchers may be overkill," Tomlinson said,
"The 5 inch guns will be more useful in the city. Getting them to do a TOT
will be a lot easier with the broadside from a Navy ship, instead of
individual guns. That's if you swabbies can actually hit a target, that
isn't bobbing around in the water."
"Are you saying the Navy is going to have to start shouldering more
of the load?" Simson smiled.
"If you squids want part of the glory, you at least have to shoot,"
Stedman replied with mock gravity.
"All right, if none of you have anything to add," Simson waited for
both men to shake their heads. "Our Miss Ayanami had a visitor, one that
evaded security on the way in, and on her way out. Frankly, I expected the
FUBENS to screw-up that way, not our security people. Considering how
agitated Miss Ayanami was when she ran out of her apartment, I want that
person designated as hostile, I want a clear photo or drawing that can be
distributed to the Tokyo Police and our security forces. This person is to
be detained, if _possible_, if they offer any threat or resistance, they are
to be shot on sight." He glanced at the other two, "The pilots are under
enough strain. I want _no_ repetition of this incident. Is that
understood?"
"Yes, sir," both said.
"Miss Ayanami might not be ready to deal with, or give a
description of our intruder, so we have to deal with it. The last thing we
need is some crazed fan putting her in danger."
"Agreed," Stedman said.
"How far do we go in capturing someone like this?" Tomlinson asked.
"We need to be concerned about cultists. I'm not talking about the
usual nuts walking around, but nuts who are now considering the pilots as
objects of veneration," Stedman told them, "To our chagrin, we didn't
uncover that, Miss Ayami and Miss Matsuda discovered that, they also had the
good sense to agree to keep that from the pilots."
"That's even more frightening, have these 'neo-cultists' been
harmless, or real religious zealots?" Simson asked.
"Mix of both," Stedman explained.
"Just great," Simson sighed, "Okay, we'll have to look into that.
How did we miss that?"
"We aren't used to thinking like madmen," Stedman suggested,
"Teenagers don't have those distractions. I also think that Miss Tendo has
been assembling a cult of personality, members of that `cult` may be very
rigorous in defending the object of their devotion."
The three smiled at that, remembering their high school days, and
their children's, as well as the people who stayed with general officers as
they rose.
"Keep an eye on it," Simson told them. He handed out the briefing
prepared by ONI.
"Okay, let's go international: The French situation in Indochina
and Cochin China has been deteriorating. The Vietminh are giving them the
same headaches they were giving the Japanese."
"Idiots, let them be," Stedman said, "China Burma taught us that."
"GOOD GOD!!" Tomlinson shouted, "They can't be serious!"
"I think the General found the salient passage in that entire
paper. The French are preparing to send their EVA to 'engage these
bandits.' They are preparing the Bearn to support her, with a couple of
heavy cruisers for gunfire support," Simson told the two stunned officers.
"Yes, I know the risks of letting people see the real effect of EVAs on
ground troops, even if they are irregulars. The last thing we want, is
someone developing tactics for normal, combat troops to defeat EVAs. Our
enemies don't need any of our help showing them how to win."
"If I commanded the Navy around here," Tomlinson stood at a chart
of the waters of East Asia, "That French fleet might have a dreadful
accident, in water shallow enough to salvage that EVA."
"The French are our good, dear friends, and always will be, just
ask General Eisenhower," Simson replied, "That's not showing the proper
attitude."
"Of course, sir."
"Besides, that's what Marines are for," Stedman said, "I don't
think there's been a boarding action against a capital ship in a while."
"We're all assuming they can make the conversions. Their shipyards
are probably as shocked about the news as we are. I'm guessing, it's all
saber-rattling. I'm more concerned that they may demand our assistance in
reinforcements, expendables, power-packs, etc."
"Not without a hand-written note from Truman, himself," Tomlinson
growled.
"I'm just warning what may be coming down the pike. I don't want
anyone surprised," Simson said.
----------------------------------------
Search and Rescue
Nabiki walked out of the locker room. The testing had been short,
for her and Raccoon, just long enough to ruin an otherwise beautiful
Saturday afternoon. Once it was proven, again, she and Raccoon were the
lowest ranked, the other four went to hours of testing in the simulators,
and she and Raccoon could do whatever they wanted, except get the training
they both thought they needed. Nabiki didn't like that she'd been in an EVA
only once, and that had been just backing up Shinji and Asuka. She worried
that with her low sync rate and inexperience, her first real combat sortie
would be a disaster.
That Shinji's had been successful didn't raise her mood, Shinji was
an EVA pilot, the same way Ranma was a Martial Artist, born to it. Ranma
had had help every time he went out, Raccoon and Asuka had known the others
were there to help. Nabiki still had nightmares about going out alone, and
the EVA simply freezing up, pleas, threats, bribes had no more effect than
the controls. Fortunately, the `monsters` had been anticlimactic, Akane's
escaped cooking, a giant Shampoo deciding that the EVA was her new glomp
toy/Airen, or Happosai deciding he'd 'Never seen a girl that BIG!'
Fortunately without power, the nerve connections didn't work either,
whatever happened to the EVA, she didn't know about it.
Nabiki watched Raccoon watching the training in the sunken
classrooms, squared-off pits, surrounded by a railing, a stair leading down
into them. She remembered his comment that they'd taken a bombed out area
and simply paved over it, instead of filling in the craters, then paving.
He sensed, rather than heard her approach, since she knew she wasn't making
any noise.
He turned to face her, "You and your friend Saotome-san are so
skilled at sneaking up on people, one wonders to what end such training took
place."
Nabiki smiled, Raccoon's insistence at forever using the super
polite form still gave her the impression of Kuno, a samurai from ancient
times lost in the modern world. Raccoon carried it off better, aloof and
alien, and in an odd way, more honorable.
"Are you always so insulting, to defame me and Ranma-san?" she put
on her most aggrieved tone and face.
"My apologies, Tendo-san." He bowed mockingly, "I look for patterns
throughout the world, some sense that there is something greater out there,
taking an active and beneficent hand in our affairs. You and your comrade
do not fit the pattern. It is as if you both dropped out of the sky
somehow. But who dropped you, ally, enemy or - what amuses you so?"
Nabiki was laughing. If he only knew. "Can we switch to English?
It's like talking to his Majesty's private investigator."
"Very well, although court jester is more accurate. The one who
can say what needs to be said, and escapes harm by hiding behind humor and
wittiness," he said in English, "What about you? Don't you want to be more
than first backup, admittedly that puts you ahead of me."
"No, I do want to do something. Something that will make a
difference. You're right, I'd rather be useful than happy. Don't you get
tired of being strange?"
"Estranged," Raccoon corrected loftily, "I had to do that at
Harvard. Keep people a little off-center, so they'd quit treating me as
'just a kid'. I didn't fit expected categories, so they'd have to treat me
like an individual, after they realized I was helpful and friendly."
"And so modest," Nabiki said.
"Yes, true, but true greatness needs no advertisement."
Even in English he can still `Kuno`, Nabiki smirked.
"There was one upperclassman, he terrorized all the freshmen and
sophomores. So at two in the morning . . . "
"Can I help you two ladies?" the Japanese Marine captain teaching
the class yelled up to them.
"Oops." Nabiki hadn't thought they could be heard.
"Opportunity," Raccoon started down the steps, out of curiosity,
Nabiki followed him.
"As a matter-of-fact, good Captain, you can be of immense service.
Tendo-san and I seem to be permanently relegated to pilots-in-waiting,"
Raccoon said in Japanese, "Since it seems this will continue for the
foreseeable future, and since honor demands that such a threat to humanity
be met with maximum effort, we wish to join your class and become fully
trained in rescue procedures."
"Rescue, huh?" the man repeated the one thing he seemed to
understand.
"While success at rescue may keep us as auxiliaries, if our
compatriots are better, they are better. We are still doing an important
and honorable job."
Nabiki kept a straight face, the Captain seemed to be having some
trouble parsing Raccoon's use of the Captain's own language. She hadn't
volunteered to take the training, but he was right, it was doing something.
Well, I wanted to do something 'un-me', Nabiki thought, Pulling people's fat
out of the fire is pretty 'un-me'!
"Besides, looking over your fine lads, I realize Tendo-san and I
can do something few of them could, and I doubt you could do at all,
especially in a hard hat suit."
That pricked the man's pride, "Oh! And what's that?"
"Squeeze through a 50-centimeter hole." Jeff held his hands apart,
slightly more than shoulder width.
The Captain looked at the burly men of his team, and the slim
youths, and quickly laughed, "Okay, point taken. But you need to be
certified expert divers to qualify."
"I trust the facilities for this training are available here. You
will find Tendo-san and I eager and attentive students."
"Okay," the Captain relented, as much overwhelmed by Raccoon's odd
use of the language as his logic, "Welcome to search and rescue. You've got
a lot of catching up to do."
"I believe that is my permanent condition," Raccoon admitted. The
others laughed.
----------------------------------------
Nabiki sat in front of Rei. She was glad Raccoon had left a camp
stool for her, along with his makeup kit, before he went out this Sunday
morning. Predictably, Ranma had followed him, allowing Nabiki to slip out
unseen.
Rei didn't have any chairs or tables in the place. Rei was sitting
on her bed, with the make-up case next to her. If Nabiki had doubted
Raccoon studied the theater at Harvard, the makeup case had destroyed those
doubts. There were more colors and other things than she'd ever seen
before. To ease Rei's fear, the two of them were playing with all the
equipment.
Nabiki held up the mirror, she still didn't know why Rei didn't
have one in her apartment. "Well, what do you think?" Nabiki kept a
straight face as Rei stared at the strange creature looking back.
Rei smoothed down the moustache, looked at the violently red
lipstick and looked at the twelve concentric rings of eyeliner, all of
wildly clashing colors. She immediately removed the fake mole that was in
the same place as Ritsuko's. Rei stared at Nabiki with a quizzical
expression.
"Don't worry, we can clean it off," Nabiki told her.
"Yes," Rei said.
"I just wanted you to see the limits of what we could do," Nabiki
explained, as she stood up, to get some wash cloths to clean Rei's face.
She noticed that Rei immediately put the mirror back in the case. She
wondered if she should as ask her about that.
"What we're going to do, is just enhance what you already have,"
Nabiki told her, "Add a little blusher, give your cheeks some color. Give
you a little different hairstyle, a little lipstick. You want to look
really pretty for Shinji don't you?"
Rei nodded, Nabiki couldn't figure out why she looked so guilty.
Nabiki pondered Rei as a blank canvas, the only thing keeping her
from humiliating the girl, to repay her for the bathroom incident, was her
own decency. It wouldn't do any good to look better than Rei, after all,
she wasn't dressing for Raccoon, the way Rei was primping for Shinji.
Nabiki tried a few hairstyles, discovered without a _huge_ amount of styling
gel, the hair wouldn't stay. Rei would have to grow her hair out a bit for
it to hold any style, and change whatever she was washing her hair with,
make it less dry and stiff.
"What, how do you wash your hair?"
"Soap."
"Not shampoo? Special hair soap?"
"No," Rei looked at her.
Nabiki looked at her watch, she had plenty of time. She dug
through the case, "Yes, thank you, Raccoon. Rei, I'll demonstrate the
important difference." She led the girl into the bathroom.
----------------------------------------
Nabiki watched Rei checking her hair, running her fingers through
it. Enjoying the different feeling.
"This is . . . pleasant," Rei said.
"I think you'll find you can style your hair differently now,"
Nabiki combed Rei's hair into a few different styles. This time they held
together.
Rei walked over to the case, opened it and removed the big walrus
moustache, "I like this."
Nabiki kept a straight face, "I think you shouldn't wear that to
see Shinji," Nabiki told her, "Although, you might talk to Raccoon about
when it would be appropriate to wear it." Nabiki could imagine what would
happen on Halloween, if Rei went all out.
But right now, Nabiki wanted to get a dress on her, so she could
help Rei with the make-up, then get home to wash and change into a dress
herself.
----------------------------------------
Gunshot
Ranma walked along the top of the fence, and looked down on his
fellow pilot, in more ways than one.
"This is what I'm talking about, Saotome-san," Raccoon told him, "I
never asked for your presence here."
"But you need it," Ranma replied.
"I don't see how you made that leap. I didn't tell you where I was
going, I didn't ask for your help. You're here for yourself, not for any
other reason."
"What do you mean by that? Hey, wait!" Ranma shouted as Raccoon
headed off perpendicular to the fence. "You're no fighter. You need me to
look after you."
"You mean you're hoping I'll walk into trouble, and you can show
off. You're completely narcissistic Saotome-san."
"Is that bad?"
"Narcissus was so beautiful, he caught a glimpse of his own
reflection and starved to death, because he couldn't bear to be away from
something so beautiful," Raccoon lectured at him.
Ranma grimaced at the stupidity of this Narc . . . "Why didn't he
leave, get something to eat, and come back?"
Raccoon sighed, "Why didn't he marry the beautiful nymph Echo, who
was after him? Because he was stupid, Saotome-san, too wrapped up in
himself to think straight. Like someone else I won't mention."
"Hey, I'm doing a job, I'm helping save the world," Ranma replied
defensively.
"You're doing it to show off," Raccoon replied, taking another
seemingly random turn. "Not for us, not for the world. Shinji-san and
Ayanami-san at least are doing it for others."
"So what are you doing later?" Ranma asked. Raccoon and Nab-chan
had been very evasive about their Sunday activity. He hopped up on another
fence paralleling Raccoon's path.
"I haven't told you, I don't intend to tell you."
"How are you going - ?"
"Saotome-san, let me tell you a little something about `honor` and
your `noble` Bushido code. I had two cousins, I loved them both dearly,
note the use of the past tense. They were Conscientious Objectors, they
didn't believe in fighting, at all, for any reason. I thought they were
stupid believing such a thing, but I could accept the courage of their
conviction."
"Not fight, yeah, that's dumb."
"Somehow I knew, you'd interrupt me with that. Since they were
liable for the draft, they volunteered for military service, as Navy
Corpsmen, the medical guys you've seen helping the doctors and nurses.
Well, they were both sent to the Philippines, to serve with the Marines.
Being battlefield medics are the corpsmens' main job. Well, when the
Americans were _ordered_ to surrender, by their commanding officer, your
Bushido-inspired, honor-bound army, showed how much they valued civilized
behavior and their word in keeping the Geneva Convention. One of my cousins
made the unforgivable mistake of asking a Japanese officer about the malaria
medicines, according to reports, they took a ten-foot bamboo pole, they
shoved one end up his ass, and the other in a hole in the ground so he hung
there, until he died. I think that's an exaggeration. They probably just
crucified him upside down. Although he was just as dead."
Ranma shuddered at that, he'd heard stories about that, but had
dismissed them. No honorable person would _ever_ do stuff like that.
"My other cousin was carrying a doctor who had a broken leg. The
Japanese told him to let the doctor walk on his own. When my cousin made
the mistake of discussing the situation, they beat his feet with steel rods,
until they broke most of the bones, then they quick-marched him up and down
the column, until he died. They were only two of the few thousand murdered
that way, so those aren't isolated cases. I can give you the names and
addresses of the officers who did this. I can guide you to them, let you go
talk to them, discuss their honorable service. The Bushido code is like
every other `warriors' code`, it describes what atrocities you can commit
against whom, and when."
Ranma writhed at that, he'd overheard some other stories like that.
>From other soldiers who didn't know he spoke a little English.
"The Bushido Code merely says that as long as you are serving your
lord, and eventually, the Divine Emperor, you can rape women, abuse the
helpless, or murder anyone designated the enemy, or of low enough social
standing, at any time. And, due to your certainty that you serve the
Emperor on the divine missions to unite the eight-corners of the world under
his August rule, anything is acceptable. Those soldiers had `honor` just
like you. Also, since the Bushido code assumes surrender is impossible, the
only choice left to the soldiers who _were_ captured, was to switch sides.
So if you truly are what you claim to be, I'm rooming with someone who'll
betray us at the first appropriate defeat, and having done so, will follow
any order including assault, rape and murder, without hesitation and without
regret, because the orders would be of divine origin, direct from the
godhead. That's why every time you start spouting about `honor` and the
`code`, I want to reach for my pistol."
"You can't really believe that!" Ranma angrily protested, as
Raccoon changed directions again, forcing Ranma to jump off the fence to
follow him. "I'd never do anything like that! No one would!"
"It's already happened, Saotome-san, countless times in the past
few years alone," Raccoon replied coldly, "Samurai were allowed to kill
anyone they chose, as long as they were a lower social order. Other samurai
could be killed too, but had to be given a warning. Shouting as you kicked
open the door to their bedroom, was considered sufficient. If your people
had delivered the Declaration of War even a minute before the first bombs
struck at Pearl Harbor, the samurai-officers would have been mystified at
the Americans labeling it treachery. That's the code and honor system you
_allege_ you subscribe to, Saotome-san. Your treatment of Shinji-san, the
way you talk about Ranko-san, show you do accept at least part of it."
Ranma was furious at that. What Raccoon was saying, turned
everything Ranma believed in on its head. Unfortunately, Raccoon would have
studied the question, That's not the same as actually following the code!
Ranma fumed.
"Besides, why would a _martial_artist_ follow Bushido anyway? I
mean the samurai had all the weapons, had the automatic right to kill any
farmer, peasant, monk, artisan or woman of lesser rank. Those people
developed martial arts, as a counter to that, to fight back without using
banned weapons, not to fight bandits. It makes no sense to follow the
philosophy that caused the problem in the first place, it would be like
curing polio by infecting everybody, it makes no sense. The technique works
for smallpox, because it uses a weakened version. The martial arts
community would develop their own, very different, philosophy."
"I'm sure you've got a `code of honor`, like those gunfighters,"
Ranma said morosely.
"That's as big a myth as the Bushido Code, the real Code of the
West was just people trying to survive, and your only resource was your self
or your neighbors, so even if you don't like them, your survival may depend
on them, and theirs on you. If Max Bad saunters into town, intent on
shooting the place up, several of the citizens are likely to kill him before
he ever gets off his horse."
"You evaded my question, do _you_ have a code of any kind?"
"Yes," Raccoon stopped, stared at Ranma with an oddly frightening
expression on his face, "I keep my contracts. I give every chance for you
to back off and leave before everything starts, and you've got one chance to
dig in and get the job done, because you aren't getting a second." Then he
gave Ranma a cold smile, "Don't worry, Saotome-san, I don't think you're
honor-bound or a follower of Bushido."
"WHAT?!" Ranma shouted, getting ready to pummel Raccoon for the
insult.
"You sure wouldn't be here if you were."
That stopped Ranma, it made absolutely no sense at all.
"You see, with your higher sync rate and superior combat skills,
samurai honor and logic, would dictate that you are infinitely more valuable
to Humanity than I am. Hey, I don't claim to follow it, I'm just telling
you that as it's actually practiced, you're operating contrary to it's most
important dictates, enlightened self-interest. Or in the vernacular:
Covering your ass from the big boys."
Ranma was trying to sort out what Raccoon was saying, all he was
getting was a headache. "So, I'm dishonorable because I'm helping you."
"Well no, first you aren't helping me, second you aren't
'honor-bound', that's not the same as honorable. Nabiki-san and Ayanami-san
are honorable, although neither follows any code except their own. You act
more like a musketeer from the movies: Never back down from a challenge,
defend those you assume are weak, defend women, until you've charmed them
into your bed. Like Errol Flynn."
"Who's Errol Flynn?"
"_DIE_!_" the man leapt out of the alley, knife held high.
Ranma saw the gleam of the knife in the shadows, before the man
attacked, The gleam was black! "Magic," he realized, stepped in front, to
guard Raccoon.
The lone gunshot flipped the assassin back onto the ground, where
he twitched slightly, then lay still.
"I need _you_ to protect _me_?_" Raccoon asked as he pulled on a
pair of gloves, and collected the shell casing, to put it in a film can. He
kept his pistol aimed at the man the entire time, "I hardly find that
likely, Saotome-san," he glanced around, "Let's get out of here, I don't
think he was reacting to your ignorance of Mr. Flynn, although, sometimes
I'm tempted."
Ranma stared at Raccoon, the dead body, at Raccoon walking away.
He glanced at the body, Raccoon dragged him away, Ranma felt as if the man's
death was contagious. "You, you, you . . . kill, kill . . . ed." Raccoon
pushed/dragged him along at a fast jog.
"It's interesting," Raccoon said as they jogged, "The term fan,
comes from fanatic, which means 'of the temple'. It makes the term
religious fanatic, to a degree, redundant, don't you think."
Ranma could only stare at him.
They stopped several blocks away, at a payphone.
"We've got to do something, we can't just . . . " Ranma's mind was
awhirl, shocked by the cold anger Raccoon showed while they'd been talking,
but the boy's words paled in comparison to his actions.
"Please, I'm on the phone. Yes, Tokyo police. Yes, I'd like to
report a dead body." Raccoon patted Ranma's shoulder, smiled politely at
him.
The `friendly` Raccoon chilled Ranma even more, than when he was
angry.
"Gunshot, one shot. Yes. Yes. This morning while I was combing
my hair. Yes, I shot him. Certainly not, I have an appointment. It should
be over at say, 22:00 hours, would it be more convenient to come at that
time, or early in the morning? Very well, you also should coordinate with
NERV Security and ONI, since two of the EVA pilots were involved. The two
NERV pilots involved, they got away without being injured. Certainly.
Well, I certainly made sure they didn't remain in the area."
Raccoon patted his shoulder again, Ranma could only stare, I can't
believe he's doing this! Ranma thought, He's blowing off the _police_!_
"22:00 hours, which station should I come to, and whom should I ask
for? Shima station, just ask for the desk sergeant." He wrote it down.
Ranma kept staring in horror at the other boy. The cooling body
just a dozen blocks away, and he wasn't going to alter his plans.
"Oh, I'll need to bring the pistol. I don't want to alarm anyone,
so how should I package it? Paper bag? Certainly, no problem. Oh, I'll
have to wash my hands, will that interfere with the paraffin test?" he
paused, "Yes, it is my gun. Oh, no problem. Thank you, thank you very
much. I'll be in later." He hung up. "Close your mouth, Saotome-san,
you're catching flies, let's get out of here, in case there are others."
Ranma noted he waved to their security guards, as they started
home.
----------------------------------------
Ranma stayed close as they walked, an armored car in front and
behind, "You're just leaving the body?"
Despite the escort, Raccoon was scanning everywhere as they headed
home, keeping Ranma moving, "Well, I don't really care if someone steals it,
there's nothing I can do to help him." He stepped aside and pressed Ranma
back out of sight, as the police car raced by. "It is hardly my fault that
idiot decided to commit suicide, now is it?"
Ranma considered hailing the police, but was still too tongue-tied.
Security knew, and weren't doing anything.
"I made a promise, I intend to keep it. That's what I was talking
about before we were interrupted. Yes, it'll be more inconvenient later,
but the others need the - well, I'm going ahead. I take it you want to
spend time letting the police ask lots of questions, gather their evidence,
analyze it and ask still more questions."
"Yeah." Ranma couldn't imagine doing anything else.
Raccoon shook his head, "Why not let them gather their evidence,
frame their questions and get a good dinner for themselves, then go in? I
mean isn't it better for everyone? Well, except me. After all, it's not
like they are going to charge me with anything."
Ranma's mind was racing, "I have to tell Dr. Akagi."
"Oh, I'll tell her, you're hardly in a state to. Besides, Security
will probably inform her before we get home. She'll need to know why I'm
late. I frankly wouldn't trust you to tell her when you calm down, I
haven't figured out how telling her will assist your internal
self-representation. That's the real problem, deciding how your
self-interest will cause you to act. You don't do good things without a
motive, that while it appears sinister, may very well be solely unlearned."
"You just shot somebody!" Ranma yelled at him.
"I should have let him hurt or kill you?" Raccoon asked, "Such a
thing is not done. If he'd threatened just Saotome Ranma, I'd probably have
withheld my assistance. However, he threatened the safety of this entire
world. Like it or not Saotome-san, as a pilot, you have a terrible load of
responsibility. Your success or failure as a pilot has nothing to do with
`honor`, it has everything to do with doing right for the Human race. Honor
is inherently selfish. 'I do `X` because it makes me feel good', rather
than 'I do `X` because it is the right thing to do.'"
"Honor is about more than feeling good - "
"No, it isn't," Raccoon cut him off angrily, "It's about not
wanting to be _accused_ of being dishonorable, whether the allegation is
true or not, you're trying to avoid the _defamation_. It makes you
incapable of making the hard choices, choices adults _have_ to make."
"Like shooting a cultist?" Ranma felt a touch hysterical.
"Certainly, but also dealing with problems in more permanent ways.
This wasn't a street punk you could pummel unconscious. That was an
assassin, who would kill us, given another chance. You leave someone like
that alive - "
"I'm not a killer!" Ranma retorted.
"Then you've decided to put the rest of us at deadly risk, for your
precious `honor`. None of the rest of us could disarm that man without
injury. That blade was a patch of darkness, darker than the shadows around
it. That's how I felt it. What do you think the merest scratch from that
blade would do?"
Ranma shook his head, magic was something he tried to have nothing
to do with. He still felt disconnected from reality. He'd watched a
murder, and they were arguing about it, and why it was acceptable, while the
murderer escorted him safely home. Ranma had never killed anybody, that he
remembered. Angels weren't people, but how could anyone kill with such a
serene temperament. He'd envied the tranquility, now he was repelled by it.
"Come on, Saotome-san, we can discuss this later," Raccoon gently
took his arm, "I apologize, this is the wrong time to be debating this.
Let's get you home, you look terrible." He helped him onto the rear deck of
the armored car.
Ranma stared at him, but allowed himself to be driven home, the
insults stopped from both of them, silence reigned. Ranma noted that
Raccoon sat close enough to make sure he stayed safely seated on the
vehicle.
He shot someone, no thought, just boom! And no regrets afterward.
He just goes on as if nothing's wrong! Ranma was having severe problems with
that, but couldn't center himself to make a protest by word or deed.
----------------------------------------
They arrived at the apartment, despite the ever-present cats, Ranma
was less uneasy here, except he was usually uneasy about the cats. Raccoon
sat Ranma at the dining room table. Ranma stared at the patterns in the
wood of the table. Focused his mind on them, to recenter himself
"I'll call Dr. Akagi. Don't stare at me that way, I said I'd do
it."
I didn't think I was staring at him at all. Ranma listened to the
conversation, He's going to be later than he planned, no details.
Ranma watched Raccoon fix a quick snack while he was talking, he
put the okonomiyaki in front of Ranma with an admonishment to eat. Then he
walked into the bedroom, leaving Ranma alone with his thoughts.
He blows someone away, tells the police he did it, walks me home,
and makes me a light supper, Ranma wolfed down his favorite food, What kind
of nut is he?
----------------------------------------
Captain Ramsey checked with the guards that would be surrounding
the Children during their 'date'. It made him smile that Davis had proposed
the `operation`, and suggested the security be tightened, incidentally that
the soldiers who'd been slogging after the kids as they did the things kids
did, would get a meal at arguably the finest restaurant in Tokyo, because it
would disturb things if all the people around them weren't eating.
Now that security was in deadly earnest. He didn't know why Davis
had walked the streets around the restaurant, or why the crazed man had
allowed security patrols to pass by without revealing himself, but attacked
the pilots at such a disadvantage. The Admiral had overruled Ramsey about
canceling the entire `show`. Ramsey had argued his point. In retrospect,
the Admiral was correct, only Davis and Saotome had seen the cultist, and
the method of his dispatch had Saotome more worried about Davis than the
attack. The others had to be able to relax, and unwind a bit, or there
would be a disaster.
He stepped into the kitchen, of the regular employees, only the
senior chef and two assistants were present, the rest of the staff was still
being checked, as replacements they had some of the best cooks from the
South Dakota, Coral Sea and the Base's officer's mess assisting. One senior
chief, who'd been cooking longer than the chef had been alive, meandered
over.
"Captain, he's a stuck up martinet, but I don't think he's any
threat to the kids," the chief looked at the chef screaming at someone for
slicing the radishes too thin, "Us on the other hand . . . "
Ramsey nodded, "Do your best, keep smiling no matter how much it
hurts," he headed outside, the riflemen were in position. Each armed with a
50-caliber machinegun with a sniper gun sight. A small ready reaction force
was standing by, out of the route of approach, to extricate the Children if
anything happened. Ramsey looked over the preparations and sighed.
"If I'm missing anything, I can't see it," he wondered why the
Admiral had sent a radar F7F to Kyoto in such a hurry. He did want to be in
on the debriefing of Pilot Davis by Tokyo P.D. and ONI. He knew Pilot
Saotome wouldn't be included, he suspected that they would downplay the
presence of the other pilot, to protect Saotome. He wondered why the
reports about the incident had not surprised the Admiral. The Tokyo P.D.
guys had been shocked by the phone call and the dead body, they calmed down
considerably when ONI had descended on them in force. Suddenly a murder
victim and a manhunt, was changed to a treason and security investigation.
Ramsey was just nasty enough, he'd insist on letting the Tokyo P.D. see
Davis shoot. Ramsey still hadn't forgiven him for fleecing him out of $50
using a pistol to shoot skeet, while Ayanami used a Garand rifle to do the
same.
He checked his watch again. Walked the perimeter of the
restaurant, low wood buildings, no place someone could hide that weren't
covered by at least two machineguns. It all felt useless, if the security
was good, the cultist would have never got past them earlier. He was coming
to think the pilots themselves, were the only adequate security for the
pilots.
----------------------------------------
Employing Grit
Nabiki sat in the apartment bathroom, in her shirt and shorts,
impatient to get dressed to start this evening. She stared at this thing
looking out at her from the mirror, What am I so nervous about? she
wondered, Rei's out in the living room, learning how to help a guy tie a
tie, looking better that she's ever looked before. Thanks entirely to me.
And I'm in here, botching a simple make-up job on myself. "It's not like
this is a real date," she mumbled, tried to figure out what she was doing
wrong.
Finally she gave up, I'm not Saotome, I can ask for help, "Raccoon,
can you get in here and fix your make-up kit? It's broken."
"Sure," he entered, closing the bathroom door behind him. "Ah, I
can see your problem."
She frowned, "If you say 'your face', I'll kick you so hard,
they'll hear you in Boston. Because you'll be landing there."
"Actually," he stood her up, facing the mirror, "The problem is . .
. " he covered half her face with the kit's large hand mirror, "The duckling
can't decide if it wants to be a swan," he moved the mirror to cover the
other side, "Or a falcon."
The difference in the two sides shocked her, one looked like Kasumi
might, the other a vamp from the silent film era.
"My suggestion," he held up a wash cloth, "If I may."
She nodded.
He began removing the make-up, "Since this is young Ikari and
Ayanami-san's night, we tone this down. Saotome-san seems to have taken to
his bed, so I doubt all your efforts will have the desired effect."
"What did you do to him, anyway?" When Nabiki had gotten back with
Rei, Raccoon was on the phone to Captain Ramsey, and Ranma had already gone
to bed, before the sun was down.
"I told him what I thought of him and his honor code," Raccoon
selected a lipstick, "Believe me, it wasn't polite dinner conversation. I
don't know why he feels compelled to follow me around, like a balloon on a
string, but I don't like it." He added blusher, and eye make up.
Because Ranko's got a crush on you, and only you two can't see it,
Nabiki thought jealously, Ranko's joined the 'sigh, oh sempai,' club with
Maya. "Maybe he's bored." She wondered if Rei felt like this, a subject for
someone else, possibly a victim.
"Well," Raccoon stepped out of the way to let Nabiki look at
herself in the mirror, "Why don't you go give him a good night kiss, and get
him interested in something else."
Nabiki stared at the image in the mirror, it was her, rather than
the somebody else she'd been trying to be, and she was very pretty. She
blushed, turned away, "It took me an hour-and-a-half to get Rei looking that
way."
"And a very good job too."
She curtsied, "Sir, is just too gallant. Anyway, you took about
two minutes."
Raccoon sighed, "When I studied at Harvard, do you think I was out
on the stage? They wouldn't even cast me as one of the dead bodies strewing
the earth. No, I was make-up, a prompter, fixing the electrical systems,
painting flats, building scenery, heck, I even _wrote_ an entire play, with
stage direction. Some of my classmates are in Hollywood now, doing this
professionally, or teaching other professionals. As for Ranko, a couple
more lessons, and she could be almost as good as I am. Better, if she'd
hang up the 'It's all girly-stuff,' nonsense."
And you can't see why she has a crush on you? Nabiki thought, If
Akane had been half as patient or accepting, they'd be married by now, she
sighed, and divorced. She got angry at the stupidity of it all.
"Now, that's a good look for you, I'm Tendo Nabiki, and I'm going
to bite off your head, and spit it down your neck."
"You, sir, are hardly the one who should talk about biting," Nabiki
shot back.
"I think Saotome-san really enjoyed it, bleech, and I should know,"
Raccoon replied as he left.
Nabiki shook her head, He couldn't have meant _that_, could he?
Nabiki shook her head again, trying to erase the image he'd put there. He
did that on purpose! she realized, as she entered the boy's bedroom.
Ranma was wide awake, staring up at the bunk over his head. "Hey -
Nab-chan, you look like a real girl."
Oh, you are going to _pay_ for that, Saotome, she thought as she
knelt next to his bed, kept her smile friendly. "Since you got kissed the
other day," she didn't alter her smile at his wince, she leaned over slowly,
"I've been jealous, and so I thought you'd like to kiss a girl, see if you
liked it . . . as much." He opened his mouth to protest, and she struck.
She kept it firm but gentle, feeling him finally relax, then she broke off
the kiss. "Well, I'm off on my date. She you later, Ranma, maybe much
later." She got the door closed just before his frustrated shout of
'GIRLS!'
----------------------------------------
Nabiki looks across the crowded restaurant, she realizes most of
the customers were Americans or Europeans.
"You're looking lovely, Ayanami-san," Raccoon tells their other
dinner companion as he pulls out the chair for Nabiki.
Shinji takes the hint, pulling out the chair for Rei, "You look
good too, Nabiki."
"Any trouble?" Nabiki asks.
"Well, I shot someone to make sure Ranma didn't barge in, but Ranma
should be back to normal in the morning."
"You're kidding?" Shinji asks, "Right?"
"Shinji," Nabiki tells him, "Even Raccoon wouldn't shoot someone
for no reason."
Rei glances at Nabiki, both _hope_ he's joking, but he might not
be.
The waiter arrives, the four of them are too young for real
cocktails, Raccoon acts as host and orders Shirley Temples and Virgin Marys,
one for each. The waiter bustles off.
Nabiki notes Shinji winces slightly, she guesses Raccoon kicked him
under the table.
"Ayanami-san, you look very nice," Shinji manages.
Rei nods, "Thank you." She looks at the twin stares, "You look
nice too."
Well, it isn't the script we rehearsed, but it's more sincere,
Nabiki thinks.
There is little small talk, Rei seems _extremely_ uncomfortable
talking about something other than `work`. Shinji is uncomfortable period.
The conversation goes to music, Now I'm the one left out, Nabiki thinks, I
don't know about fingering, string tensions, etc.
But Rei and Shinji are comfortable talking about it. Classical
music styles, baroque, neoclassical, Beethoven, Bartok, Musgorsky.
I can't even nod intelligently, Nabiki looks around, I wonder if
they are keeping me out of the conversation, to teach me how it feels.
----------------------------------------
They order the food, the utensils are western-style: knife, fork,
spoon. Raccoon of course . . . but there are a half-dozen of each utensil,
which goes with which dish? Nabiki looks around, trying to get an idea from
the other patrons, who seem to accept it all naturally.
"If the table setters and the food delivery is done correctly, you
start with the outermost and work in," he confides, easing Nabiki's
dis-ease, Rei and Shinji's near panic.
Salad, soup, bread, main course, which Rei has an eggplant dish,
ice cream for dessert. Both Rei and Shinji relax considerably with a
nonjudgmental audience. Nabiki and Raccoon correct them gently on
etiquette, and the two of them work together to keep the conversation light
and moving. Rei tends to monopolize, and Nabiki notices she still doesn't
make transitions, even when she's relaxed. 'I saw that stray dog the other
day. The Second seems to like her hair long. Do you think you'll have to
shave soon?' Nabiki had to supply the transitions that the dog's red tail
looks like Asuka's hairstyle, and both Shinji and Raccoon are growing peach
fuzz on their cheeks.
No wonder she limits herself to single sentences, Nabiki thinks, If
she talked like that normally, people would laugh at her, and be very
confused.
Nabiki decides to roleplay a little scenario, "Since you said you'd
be friends with Asuka, if ordered, Rei, you should go over to Asuka and talk
about shopping, movies, hairstyles, cosmetics. And when Asuka is totally
confused, ask her if the two of us can give you an order that you have to be
friends with her, since she really doesn't have any."
Shinji about chokes on the drink he was sipping, "Please don't. I
have to live with Asuka."
Rei agrees, "I do not want to be cruel to the Second Children."
In my, not so, humble opinion, Nabiki thinks, Calling her Second
Children or the Second, is cruel in its own way, when you call me
Nabiki-chan, Jeff: Roku-kun, and Shinji: Shinji-kun. Although you call
Ranma: Saotome or the Fourth. The differentiation can't be lost on Asuka,
it's probably lost on Ranma, but you treat them differently.
----------------------------------------
Admiral Simson led the smaller man into the morgue. He didn't want
to let on about his connection, but he needed answers, and he needed them
now.
The filing cabinets for the dead were all closed, a coroner opened
the one he'd been told to. Then he left, he didn't like it. However, when
a Marine Captain with a platoon of armed Marines backing you up, gives you
an order, you follow it exactly. Even if they take pains to make it sound
like a request.
The body was worse than Simson expected, the face was undamaged, he
thought it was thoughtful of Davis to kill this man, and still leave him
identifiable. But the ugly wound in the throat, and the missing back of the
head made it a grisly scene.
His son-in-law looked at the body, frowned, turned away. "I've
never seen him before."
Simson walked to the clear plastic box on the coroner's desk.
"They had to put it in a box to move it. The blood stains are from a police
officer, he touched it, and then tried to knife himself to death. It took
fifteen other cops to subdue him," Simson looked at his son-in-law, "Sound
familiar?"
The younger man picked up the box, looking at the engravings on the
knife, "Yeah, Ansiwari sect, assassins, the best. But I thought they only
operated in the Dreamlands, and even there, few have ever heard of them."
"I think we've figured out why, the knife is forged, some poor slob
has it slapped in his hand, and instant assassin. The body was a janitor at
Tokyo University, no criminal record, no marks against him in his war
record. Not social, not a loner, textbook example of average." Simson led
his son-in-law, Anthony, out of the room, the coroner slipped by them to
close everything up.
"Someone or something crossed over," Simson told Anthony, "The SD
was here, a pack of Corsairs actually got a sighting, and some gun camera
footage."
They waited until they were back in the Admiral's car and had some
privacy, he'd dispensed with the driver, letting his son-in-law drive, for
tonight.
"Well, he's back now," Anthony said, "And not too happy with the
security procedures you had in place, and not too pleased he couldn't find
out who did this."
"We were none-too happy ourselves," Simson admitted, "Is that . . .
thing, really as big as a B-36."
The other man nodded, "Just as big and ten times as nasty, and
that's letting the B-36 carry its nuclear payload. He's good people though.
That knife, the runes, I recognize them: Moonbeast. That definitely
confirms that somebody from the Dreamlands crossed over to the Waking World.
It's perfect cover, they have some to all the memories of their Waking World
counterpart. There's no record of them anywhere, and depending on who they
are, they might have training the counterpart doesn't."
"I thought that wasn't possible," Simson pointed out.
"There are a few devices, the Crystallizer of Dreams is the best
known, but there are others, that would let a dream stay real in this world.
Until you kill it, or find the device and reverse its effects."
"Another needle in a haystack," Simson stared at the city going by.
"There is one other possibility, a physical gate, that means
anything can just walk through. Most things will just dissipate the instant
they're in the Waking World. But there are legends of gates that make
things dreams going one way and real going the other. If they have one of
those, they could bring other things through the gate."
"What kind of 'other things'?" Admiral Simson asked.
"Giant worms, for one."
The Admiral was wide awake now.
----------------------------------------
The evening ends, Nabiki, Raccoon and Shinji walk Rei back to her
apartment. The suggestion that an evening properly ends with a goodnight
kiss embarrasses both her and Shinji. It's cute, Nabiki thinks, Both of
them embarrassed like that.
"At least kiss each other on the cheek, we won't watch," Raccoon
drags Nabiki around the corner and out of line of sight.
Nabiki is irritated, "Well, I can't photograph the moment. Are you
going to give me a kiss?"
"I'm afraid I'll have to be ungallant, but I still have an
appointment tonight," Raccoon admits.
Before she can probe further, a blushing Shinji rejoins them.
"How was it?" Nabiki asks.
He blushes even more at her question.
"So what's the appointment?" she asks.
"Oh, Top Secret stuff, clandestine meeting with the police about
murders." He smiles as he tells them.
"If you don't want to tell us," Shinji complains.
I'm beginning to wonder, Nabiki thinks.
----------------------------------------
Reviving Reverberations
Raccoon arrives back at 2:00 A.M. with Dr. Akagi. Ranma can hear
from her voice, that she's out of sorts, but not angry at anyone in
particular. She orders him to shower and get some sleep.
Ranma sees him after he's hanging up his suit.
"Why are you still awake?" Raccoon asks, he sounds concerned.
"I can't get it out of my head."
"I could suggest a good cleanser, but then they could accuse me of
brainwashing."
A long pause, Was that a joke?
He shrugs and leaves, showering quickly and returns to climb into
the top bunk.
I can't believe he isn't disturbed by that, Ranma thinks, Murder,
cold-blooded, he'd obviously thought about it, the move was well practiced.
And it didn't bother him. All that philosophical talk and he just kills
somebody, boom. How can someone be like that?
----------------------------------------
Ritsuko stares at the ceiling again. Nabiki, a silent lump a meter
away. The victim was a cultist, the knife was enchanted with a lone fatal
spell. And one of my kids shot him, Ritsuko runs the incident over in her
mind, again, Just below the jawline up through the skull. The man was dead
even before he hit the ground. Jeff showed no remorse, he was defending two
pilots, therefore it was a military action. A military inquiry would be
appropriate. The detectives had all the evidence for an airtight
manslaughter case, gun against knife. She and ONI, Office of Naval
Intelligence, had to explain to the police about security concerns for the
Children, she'd never thought that her `cowboy` would walk around armed,
until a few days ago. She'd confronted ONI, they knew and approved. It was
understandable. Rei and Ranma were as deadly unarmed, as an armed gunman,
but not willing to kill. Well, maybe Rei, but not Saotome or the others, she
considers.
The reports on the rescue of Rei from the Cthonians came back. She
discounted the reports as impossible, at the time. Now she has to worry.
How much danger were the other pilots in? she worries, Ranma was always
pushing Jeff, but he seemed content to absorb the effects.
Now she has a clue, He was intentionally letting Ranma do what he
did without reacting. Yet what if he cracked? How much danger was there?
What did she need to do?
She'd talked to him, had the points she could verify. He
understood her concern over the incident, but was more concerned that there
was no alternative, other than himself and Ranma being a victim, which he
was unwilling to do. He'd take the protection of the pilots seriously, the
reason he'd taken it on himself to sweep the area.
She wonders if she should run a psychological profile test. She
knows what they'd established as the criteria for pilots, she'd never
expected those outcomes, Shinji's aggressiveness in combat, Rei's interest
in the other pilots were unexpected side-effects, if this is the same? She
is beginning to realize she is going to need a greater knowledge of the
psychology of adolescents. Commander Fuyutsuki would be of little help. He
needs the pilots at a certain state, she finds she needs them in a very
different state. The warrior Children versus stable children in her home.
It isn't a comfortable balancing act.
----------------------------------------
Jeff didn't have nightmares, no truly experienced dreamer did. But
sometimes he remembered, in perfect clarity, with all the nuances and
sensations there had been at the time, and only with extraordinary effort,
could he get away from those memories.
With some of his experiences, the difference between the truth and
a nightmare, was too small to even consider. This was one of those times.
When he'd seen that _thing_ coming out of Ayanami-san's apartment,
all the memories came crowding back from the unmarked grave he'd thought
he'd thoroughly buried them in.
The El Nureenen War had taken on the characteristics that would
define it until final victory, a siege against an enemy with seemingly
unlimited resources, who only fought when it chose. A sweep of an entire
section of the huge mazelike complex would turn up absolutely nothing except
dust, corpses and vermin. They removed the corpses for burial in hallowed
ground, the rest was left to fend for itself. Five minutes after the main
force left, a smaller group could be virtually annihilated by battalions of
things that literally weren't there minutes before.
The 35 were the worst. It seemed nothing could stop them, 17
dragons and 53 mages took on one of them, and were blotted out, except for
one very, junior mage. It was not the first time this had happened, it was
theorized that their powers couldn't affect certain types of souls.
Jeff firmly believed, the sadist wanted him alive to spread the
word. In the waking World, it was February 1942, the Allies were losing
absolutely everywhere it seemed, Russia, North Africa, the Pacific, China,
Burma, even the Atlantic. When the chance to hit back against the 35
arrived, Jeff was among the first to volunteer, and one of the few accepted.
It seemed those who'd had extensive experiences with the spirit world,
especially those who'd functioned as a psychopomp, however unwillingly as in
Jeff's case, could feel those things. They would locate them, and call in a
special strike force they hadn't been allowed to meet.
There had been 60 of these hunters, on this thin information, Jeff
and several dozen others, had sought out advice to develop tactics.
Langley's great-uncle Sigmund was a U-boat commander, after having lost
nearly a dozen friends to those things, he was more than willing to explain
what worked, and what didn't, when hunting an unseen/unseeable enemy. He
knew, he'd died in the Waking World by underestimating sonar and a British
Captain. Others had gathered similar insights, and plans and procedures
were drawn up.
One other thing was happening. Friends, longtime messmates, even
lovers, had begun to refer to the 60 as if they were already dead, to avoid
their presence, no longer speaking their names aloud. It was logical, in a
very human way, perhaps they were already dead. For three months of
Dreamlands time, they had been going into the very darkest places, with the
intention of locating the screaming, flaming death, everyone else tried to
avoid. Treating them as if they'd already died, made it easier on everyone
else.
Jeff remembered those days, walking through the ebon corridors,
effectively alone, where sometimes only days before, platoons and even
companies had been wiped out. The nearest person was a dozen yards away,
also alone in the darkness. Because a single person wouldn't attract
attention. They carried no light, because it might attract attention, and
never spoke or sang or laughed, because it might attract attention. The
only sound, was the footsteps of distant others, transmuted by echoes and
imagined fears into the scratchings and tappings of entities trying to break
into the world. Walking through the corridors alone, your spirit stretched
thin and sensitized until you supposed you could feel every ripple, every
nonmaterial texture, every emotion a place contained. Like someone slowly
dragging their fingernails across the inside of your skull. Feeling the
outstretched spirits of the others around you, as well as your own.
That was why they wanted psychopomps, because they could also feel
when something interrupted that coverage, like detecting the radar signal of
another ship, even if they couldn't detect you by the reflection. That was
the way they found the first of the 35.
Sixty walking dead men, thrust their heads into the trap, and by
luck, skill, or the grace of God, 60 dead men walked out. As the 35 became
the 34, the 33, the 32, the others in the camps started looking at and
treating the 60 differently, not better, just different. In some ways it
was worse. Some discovered the identity of the strike force, and the 60
literally became those who daily walked where Angels feared to tread. He
NEVER told Langley how much her change in attitude had hurt him, that, more
than the war in the Waking World, had driven a gap between them. A gap
neither could bridge.
As the 35 became the 18, even the Killers, for the 60 were now 'the
Hunters', spoke of them with a fear that bordered on respect. They were
still dead men, conversations would falter, even brawls would cease, as one
of them came in sight. No one challenged them, because no one wanted their
job, except the foolish and the suicidal, who were manifestly unwelcome.
When the 35 were down to the 6, an attempt was made to get all of
them at once. The Killers had refined their tactics and practiced, letting
the 60 catch two or one time three at once. The battle that erupted was a
total free-for-all. Not all the Killers were from the same `side`, some
were from the Heavenly Choirs, others were of the bands of Demons, even
among their own kind, the teamwork was often lacking. Alliances between
sides were uncertain things, but held, old friends or old rivals standing
together without regard to original `regiment`.
Jeff stopped the trip down memory lane for a moment, extended his
spirit around him. The trick had other applications, something the 60
hadn't shared with their `allies` the Killers. Saotome was asleep, or so
close, the difference was unimportant. As Jeff let the nightmare/memory
drag him back, he wondered if the reason he'd been so brutal with Saotome
and his damned `honor and `code`, was he'd already met too many things who
spoke the same words, and cared nothing at all for humans, individually or
collectively, they served a code, like Saotome. It didn't stop them from
desperately needing humans to do their leg work, it didn't stop them from
`withholding` important information. Both sides did it, after a while, you
learned the difference. There might have been members of their groups, who
gave a tinker's damn about humans, but he hadn't met any. All that mattered
was their code, their honor, not even their mission, as they looked down
their noses at the rest of Creation, who didn't share it, or live up to
their standards.
Yes, Jeff thought, I know what it's like being told 'You're
Expendable', by things that desperately need you.
----------------------------------------
Ranma stared at the now-occupied bunk over his head. He hadn't
really slept, since he'd laid down here. He'd gone over and over the
incident in his head, the argument had advanced some. The procedure for the
math homework and the procedure for running experiments had taught him that
running the same argument over and over in your head did some good, if you
changed the parameters, and carefully watched what else changed and how.
It had begun simply enough: Raccoon's a murderer. He killed to
protect _you_.
It still bothered Ranma, that the accuser in his head had _his_
voice, and the one who defended Raccoon, had Ranko's. During the hours of
going over it, he had come to some uncomfortable and disturbing conclusions.
One, Raccoon was madder at Ranma, than he was at the man he shot. Two,
Raccoon had been acting to protect Ranma, every step of the way, from
shooting the man, to dragging him away from the scene, to not involving him
with the police, to getting him home safely. Lastly, while he'd been
insulting honor and the Bushido code, he never insulted Ranma for following
a code and honor, he'd insulted his ignorance in not understanding what his
_words_ meant, what _actions_ those words predicted, actions Ranma would
ever take. Raccoon was angry for Ranma not understanding.
Arrogantly not understanding, `Ranko` amplified it.
He joked that my ignorance sometimes made him want to kill me,
Ranma considered.
He also kept you out in another important way, `Ranko` continued,
You had _nothing_ to do with the man's death. You intended to engage him
hand-to-hand, and he didn't tell you he was going to fire. Your hands are
clean, you aren't a murderer, and you're still alive.
Ranma didn't like all that implied. He laid and stared at the bunk
and the ceiling. He heard the occasional squeak and rustling above him,
that actually worried him. Raccoon usually slept like a rock. Not that he
was hard to awaken, but he didn't move, didn't make noise. Considering how
heavily built the bed was, the idea that Raccoon was moving around enough to
make it squeak was worry-some.
And so what are you going to do about it? Ranma wondered, he knew
he couldn't even _find_ Raccoon's dreamscape, and wasn't all that eager to
go looking, considering what happened last time, and was waiting for him. No
comments from `you`? he asked the other voice that had been in his head, it
was completely silent.
The sound of a fist hitting the pipe railing brought Ranma back to
the here and now. "What now?" Ranma threw off the covers, he heard the
sound again and again. He stood and saw Raccoon's bloodied fists hitting
the railing. Ranma was disgusted, even asleep he knew how to throw a punch
that didn't hurt himself. Ranma grabbed Raccoon's wrists and pulled them
through the railing, grabbed a shirt and tied Raccoon's hands to keep them
there.
Now what? Ranma thought, there was an obvious answer, but it didn't
attack the real problem. "Raccoon wake up!" Ranma shook him. Nothing
happened. "At least I can clean those wounds."
Ranma headed for the bathroom, to get a clean cloth and some
bandages. While he walked, he also thought back over what Ayanami had done,
put herself at risk for him. That was the one thing that Ranma had agreed
made Raccoon's dream, as Ranma, a real nightmare. The closest he had to
anyone he could count on, was Gendo Ikari. If that wasn't a nightmare,
Ranma didn't know what was. As much as Ayanami and Raccoon hated him, they
didn't want him seriously hurt. The fall onto those spikes would have left
him dead or permanently crippled, if Ranma had had to kill that man, or if
the murderer had escaped to kill one of the others, Ranma would have been
destroyed in a way he'd never recover from. Both of them knew exactly what
would have happened, and took it on themselves to protect _him_, without any
real regard for their fate or the cost to them. That was not something he
was comfortable with, Everett had sacrificed himself to protect Ranma and
the others. Ayanami and Raccoon seemed willing to do the same, it wasn't 'a
martial artist's duty', that drove them to it, he didn't know what did.
Ranko carried the cold, damp rag and the bandages. She carefully
cleaned the wounded knuckles, despite the twitches and mewling of her
patient, "The first thing I'm going to teach you, is how to punch." As she
packed gauze over the injuries, she heard the door open, glanced back at
Ritsuko who was entering.
"You can do that good a job dressing wounds, in the dark?" Ritsuko
asked.
"You can see me doing it, in the dark?" Ranko asked, smiled at the
doctor's discomfort, "I had to do something."
"You aren't the only one worried about what happened," Ritsuko
smirked at the improvised `handcuffs`, "I won't tell him how Ranko tied him
up. You aren't the only one worried."
"Why are you worried, they didn't save _you_?_" Ranko explained her
conclusions, she saw Ritsuko rubbing her own hands.
"You aren't the only one, believe me," Ritsuko patted her shoulder,
"And I don't understand it either. Someone you don't like tries to . . .
maybe their not liking you doesn't have anything to do with their code of
honor."
Ranko shuddered at that.
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