Cologne sped through the Tokyo night. Whatever had happened, had happened by now, but she could still affect the ending. Maybe. She mentally cursed Mousse for his wagging tongue, and fate for his poor choice of confidants. While she was in that mindset, she included her great grand-daughter, who seemed not to have any common sense at all. Too direct, Shampoo was. She wasn’t making good time, but that was to be expected... she used her feet to propel her from roof to roof, her staff clutched in her left hand. The right held an empty scabbard, mate to Shampoo’s sword. Cologne swallowed back her gorge as she thought of the cheery, goodhearted Tendo that had handed it over... servility was an admirable trait, in MEN. And for a woman to not have understood the implications... it would truly be a waste to allow her son-in-law to mingle his blood with such debased stock. The directions she had been given were simple enough, and led her to an apartment complex a few miles from Nerima. Going inside and confronting them directly was not an option. If Shampoo had succeeded in killing the youngest Tendo, then she would be faced with a homicidally enraged son-in-law. If she had failed, she was either subdued and humiliated, or dead, making the entire mess a moot point. Besides, it simply wasn’t DONE, breaking into a mother’s house to kill a potential daughter-in- law. If Shampoo had survived, she was going to get a strict lecture in the propriety of such things. Cologne looked up at the side of the building, counting up and over until she came to a pair of windows, one open. Nothing was moving around inside. Obviously, whatever occurrence had happened here was over already. Unlikely that Shampoo remained in a darkened apartment. Not even son-in-law was that trusting, and his mother was doubtless formidable in her own right. She suspected that Shampoo had not been killed, either... she saw none of the cars with flashing lights, police tape, or bustle characteristic of her favorite television dramas. A single leap carried her up the four stories to the open window. Outside, on the balcony, she noted a shattered earthen pot, still damp from the water that must have been inside. The inside of the apartment was still... television, speakers, recliner... a lot of litter, come to think of it... Her eyes moved to the couch, for a moment not registering the presence of its occupant. A head shifted, and it sat up. Iridescent scales glittered in the dim light from the window, on his chest and back. His eyes flashed open... She jerked herself off of the ledge, throwing her body across the street. She flashed into the gap between two buildings, narrowly missing an air conditioner out of one window. A single moment of concentration, and she buried her staff in a wall. It stopped her momentum, the ancient wood creaking in protest, and she kicked it free as she dropped to the alley below. She hadn’t dared set a landing in that jump... There had been no recognition in the youth’s eyes. He had seen her, yes, but only as a darkened silhouette, and then a blurred image. For the first time in months, Cologne breathed a sigh of relief. THAT had truly been unexpected. If Shampoo had encountered Pantyhose Tarou... the incongruity struck her. There was NO reason for him to associate with Ranma OR his mother. If she’d had to guess, she would have placed him in pursuit of Happosai, or perhaps tangled up somehow with NERV’s machinations. Something to ask her son-in-law later, she thought. It wasn’t really a comforting thought. If Tarou had learned how to mask his presence so well, even while sleeping, it spoke of hard training. He was already a fearsome opponent, even for a warrior as skilled as her. She started to make her way from the alley, then paused. She could hear a faint yowl, the exact noise she would expect to hear if a mangy cat had been stepped on... a quick glance down told her that she had done exactly that. It took her a moment to recognize the jumble of yellow and purple as her grand-daughter’s cursed form, another to separate the huge blonde wig from Shampoo’s jewelry. A veterinarian Cologne was not, despite the skills gained over a century of rural life. She didn’t need that sort of skill to note some of the injuries. "So, you DID run afoul of Tarou." Cologne clucked twice, scooping the injured cat into her arms and setting out for home. "Most foolish of you, great grand-daughter. Now I’ll have to see what can be done with this mess..." --- Paradise Lost, part 16 Fan Fiction by Andy Kent All characters copyright Rumiko Takahashi or Gainax, respectively --- "Everybody else off to school? Suckers." Tarou smirked and opened the door to the apartment. "Hey, Tarou..." Tarou paused at the door. "Excuse me?" "Just wondered where you were headed..." Misato shrugged and took a gulp of beer. As if it were any of her business. "I have a few things to do. I haven’t given up on hunting him down." Tarou turned, leaning his back on the doorframe, and crossed his arms over his chest. "Oh, okay." Misato nodded to herself, the beer can following the motion. "Just be back in time for dinner. I’ve got this recipe..." Tarou made a mental note to make sure that he’d be late for dinner. The thought struck him as odd. "Just out of curiosity, why do you expect to ever see me again?" She blinked, although it could have been due to the sunlight coming through the door as easily as it could have been surprise. "My cooking isn’t THAT bad, you know." "That’s not what I meant... I mean, why should I come back at all?" "Why wouldn’t you? You have some place else to stay?" Tarou resisted the temptation to point out that he didn’t particularly need one. "No, although it wouldn’t be any trouble. It’s your family." "My... family? You mean Ranma?" He nodded, sneering on hearing the name. "And his father. No offense intended, but there’s some bad blood between myself and fem-boy." "So?" "Well, I don’t particularly want to live with him. I don’t want to be around him. I’d be just as happy if he was hit by a large and speeding bus, preferably one with a really spiky front grille. Are you starting to get the picture here?" Tarou smiled at the mental image of Ranma’s body being flung across a street. Misato finished her beer can and flung it at him. One of his hands flashed out, catching and crumpling the metal. She rolled her eyes toward the ceiling. "Well, there’s that. Except for the fact that he doesn’t live here, it makes sense." Tarou’s grin fell off of his face. "Doesn’t live here? Um... of course. The marriage and all." "Yeah, there’s not much point in bringing him in here, especially given that he’ll be out of school in another year. Besides, I don’t think Ryoga’s very fond of him either, and Ryoga HAS to stay here." She snorted. "Exactly what made you think he was moving in here?" "A stupid assumption, one I shouldn’t have made. That’s one less reason to leave." Tarou shook his head. "Of course, even given that fem-boy won’t be coming, I doubt that pig-boy would be too happy to see me again." "Really? I hadn’t noticed." "I think that what little mind he has available has been busy with other things... but he’ll remember, sooner or later. I’d hate to have to pound him into little pieces. Well, not really." Misato leaned back in her chair. "Well, Asuka certainly seems to like having you around." "What, strudel girl?" Tarou wasn’t blushing. No, he refused to blush. Absolutely not blushing at all. Now if he could just get his cheeks to stop burning... "You’re crazy. She hates me more than fem-boy does." "Sure, sure." Tarou briefly wondered how Misato could make such a short phrase into such a suggestive comment, just by tone and inflection. "You’re telling me that she has no interest in you at all? I believe you... SURE I do." "Look, forget it, alright? Damn. Next, you’ll start calling me by name too." Tarou arched his shoulders at the thought. "Look, I’m going. I honestly have no idea if I’ll come back here or not. If we don’t see each other again, could you smack your son over the forehead for me?" Tarou smiled and turned around. "Oh, and tell Rei that she’s right. She’ll understand." "Well... that’s the first time that I’ve ever heard you call somebody by name." Misato laughed to Tarou’s back. "Name? She’d say that it doesn’t matter." He walked out the open door, stretching his stride into an easy run. Three jumps took him down the stairwell, and shortly he was outside, running in the fresh air. Not very fresh, given all of the cars around, but still, it was nice. "Hm..." Tarou mumbled under his breath as he vaulted an intersection. "Now, if I were a perverted martial arts master, where would I be this morning?" --- On waking, Shampoo immediately thought that she’d already made one mistake that day. Waking, that is. EVERYTHING hurt, although it wasn’t nearly as bad as it had been last night in the minute or so before she’d passed out. She tried to get up and couldn’t; tried to flex her hand and couldn’t. A quick sniff brought to mind herbal mixtures more common to her village than to Japan. "So, you’re finally awake. Impetuous of you, to try to take on Tarou alone. Impetuous," Cologne said, narrowing her eyes as she bent over Shampoo’s bed, "and very, very stupid. You yourself told me about that young man." "Pantyhose boy? Shampoo... didn’t know." Last night was still hazy... there had been the apartment. A lot of people she hadn’t known. And the one fighter. "No, Shampoo did not see him." Cologne arched an eyebrow three-quarters of the way up her forehead. "You mean that son-in-law did this to you? Or..." "Shampoo not see airen or violent girl either. Stopped by someone else." "Not Tarou, not Ranma, not the Tendo girl... who?" "Shampoo not know. Not tall, but blond hair. VERY skilled. Did not even hit him once." Shampoo coughed, hurting her ribs where she’d hit the rail. Cologne chuckled for a moment, then sat down on the bed. "Be that as it may... you do realize that you would have been put to death for that kind of stunt back home. As it is, they’ll probably just exile you for the rest of your life." Shampoo grunted in surprise, but Cologne continued. "You entered the house of the Saotome matriarch to challenge somebody there without even SEEKING combat with the mother herself! Her only son, yet! The words "breach of etiquette" don’t even begin to cover your offense, great grand-daughter." "What... what Shampoo do now, obaasan?" "Normally, I’d hand you a knife and expect you to do the honorable thing. After all, you’ve single-handedly ruined any chance you had left with son-in-law, committed the most heinous possible offense against good order under our laws, and somehow you managed to get beaten into a pulp at the same time!" Cologne threw her hands up in exasperation, her voice almost shouting. "Quite frankly, at this point I’m just a bit glad that you won’t get to reproduce!" Shampoo half-curled under the sheet, the pain preventing her from taking a fetal position. "You... you say ‘normally’. This not normal?" Cologne didn’t answer for a second, then calmed herself. The struggle for control must have been purely internal, as no sign of her anger touched her voice or her face. It was to be expected of a matriarch, but... "No, this is most definitely not normal. Your situation before had only come up a few dozen times in my lifetime, and in most of those cases, the man in question was deliriously happy to marry one of us. So, you see, you were already an exception. "Combining it with this, though... not only have I not SEEN such a mess, I have not once HEARD of one, nor read about it in the tribe’s records. I congratulate you, great grand-daughter... you have managed to create a unique situation after three thousand years of Chinese Amazon history." Cologne took a deep breath. "I advise you to sleep for now; if you need a potion for the pain, I’ll see what I can whip up. Don’t worry, I’ll go talk to Mrs. Saotome this afternoon. Perhaps she won’t ask that I tear your heart out and feed it to her herds." Shampoo inhaled sharply, wincing at the pain. "Tear your heart... out..." Cologne winked. "Just a joke, dear. That only happens if you had succeeded. Not that she’d have any herds anyway..." --- The teacher bounced a piece of chalk off of Ryoga’s head. "Wake up, there! How can you learn to appreciate the sacrifices of your elders if you’re asleep during the lecture!" Asuka snickered as Ryoga failed to notice. Nor did he notice the eraser, the teacher’s edition of the history textbook, or the wooden pointer that the enraged sensei broke over the lost boy’s head. As he returned to the front desk, reaching for a decanter of water, Asuka typed a quick message into her desk terminal. To: Kensuke Subject: Wake up call Content: As funny as that would be, I think we’d better wake him up now... She looked over at Kensuke, who blinked, shrugged, and started pounding at his keyboard. Five seconds later, Ryoga’s terminal shrieked, like a fire alarm being tortured to death run through the amplification system at a Disaster Area concert... directly into his ear. "WHAAWHAAAAAA!" Ryoga bolted upright, quickly enough to send splinters from the shattered pointer into the ceiling. He looked around the classroom, eyes wide and chest heaving with an adrenaline rush. "Ah... ahh... um..." The teacher smirked. "Good to see you’re still with the living, Hibiki- kun. Another second and I’d have had to soak you with this, you know." "Yessir. Sorry sir. Won’t happen again, sir." Ryoga bowed from his desk, his head nearly touching the surface. "I’m wide awake now, sir." "Oh good. Then I don’t suppose you’d mind reading the next passage?" Ryoga shot Kensuke a dirty look... hey! The fink was pointing straight at her! What kind of stool pigeon was he, anyway? --- Misato pulled the car into her parking spot and headed up the stairs. She had a couple of hours to kill before she had to return for the kids’ synch test, and she intended to spend them both away from the rest of humanity. She briefly wondered if she’d ever been as much of a pain in the butt to Ritsuko as the scientist was being to her now. She’d nearly have a fit if she heard something drop off a desk. Any more, and Misato would formally request that she be given a few days off to sort through things. Not that Ritsuko would get it, of course. After all, they’d be in a world of hurt against the Angels if they didn’t have her technical genius handy. Even if she didn’t tell Misato everything that she should have been telling in the first place. Misato punched the key pad five times, opening the door to her apartment. It was still relatively clean from the party... after all, few people could stand the amount of clutter that Misato considered normal, and at the few social functions that she hosted here, her guests would usually take it upon themselves to do a little tidying. No problem, really, it’d get properly messy again soon enough... she noticed the open window to the room. A second later, she noticed the form in that window... "Good afternoon, honored Saotome. May I enter?" Misato’s right hand went into her jacket as she looked over her visitor. Old, that’s what she was. Short, shrunken, wrinkled as the face of a pug. For all that she looked like she’d been in a grave for a hundred years, though, she stood up straight. There was some kind of stick in her right hand, not lifted in any kind of threatening way. "Who are you?" The old woman grinned. "Don’t mind me, I’ve only come to talk with you, honored Saotome. No need to draw your silly toy. I am Cologne." "Quit calling me that." Misato removed her hand from the hilt of her pistol and moved into the kitchen. She grabbed four beers, then remembered her guest and stacked another two on top of them. She returned to the living room and sat down, heavily, in the recliner. "And yes, you might as well come in already. Beer?" "Um, no, thank you, honored Saotome." Cologne bounced off of the window sill - there wasn’t really any other word to describe the motion - and perched on the arm of the couch. "Don’t CALL ME THAT!" Misato hadn’t meant to shout, but it came out rather more forceful than she had intended. "You ARE the mother of Ranma Saotome, correct?" Cologne’s eyes narrowed. Ranma’s mother? Yes, but... "Oh!" Misato laughed. "Yes. My NAME is Misato Katsuragi." "Ah yes." Cologne sank back into the cushion on the couch. "On occasion, we also have the need to rid ourselves of troublesome or useless husbands. I had simply assumed that he had taken your name, as it is done in my homeland." "You assume much, Cologne." Misato opened and drank one beer, without stopping for breath. "I assume nothing. I have met Genma, and my impression cannot be conveyed in polite company. The man is..." Misato cut her off. "I know damned well about that piece of... well, if I ever see him again, I’ll strangle him and leave the body out for dogs." "Heh. If I see the unfortunate coward again, I shall relay this to him for you." "You have me at an advantage." Misato was hardly used to the formal atmosphere of the conversation, but found herself falling into step with the old woman’s speech patterns. "My apologies. I had assumed that my son-in-law... excuse my presumption. That Ranma had already informed you." "You’re Akane’s mother?!" Misato’s eyes bugged out. "But... you’re a hundred years old!" "No, I am actually one hundred and nineteen years of age. And not a Tendo." Cologne chuckled, dry as dead leaves. "It is merely a term of affection; I am the great-grandmother of Shampoo, who you may have met yesterday." "Shampoo? Purple hair, long, not much for conversation?" The chuckle repeated itself. "The very one." "Yes, she broke in and Hyuuga threw her out. Not that I really expected him to..." Misato almost choked on her beer as the withered Cologne bent almost double, her forehead brushing the bottom of her robe. She straightened out again. "I apologize for her inexcusable intrusion. If you wish to deal with her yourself..." "Nah, forget about it. We got the door fixed this morning, and it’s not like she stayed long... exactly why was she here, though?" "Really? You didn’t know?" Cologne’s eyes, which took up almost half of her face, blinked twice. "She was attempting to kill Akane Tendo, to prevent her marriage to your son." "Oh." Misato finished her second beer. "I don’t think he’d like that. I don’t think I like that either." "If you request, there will be no further attempts. After all, it just wouldn’t do." "No, really, please. Um, sure. I, uh, so request." Cologne nodded. "That’s it? You don’t want her drawn and quartered?" "Huh? No! Jeez, where are you people from?" "An ancient village of Chinese Amazons, actually. Well, if that’s all... I must confess to some curiosity. What is Pantyhose Tarou doing here?" "Tarou? He’s... just crashing, really. Looking for some old pervert." Cologne almost snarled at that, her lip curling in contempt. "Happosai. I wish him success, but it won’t be nearly enough... that plague on humanity has as much experience as I, and he’s just a bit more evil." "Ah heh. Well." "Yes, quite. I’m surprised he didn’t finish Shampoo off himself... there’s no love lost between those two." "Um, I think he was up on the roof then, and most everybody else was in the other room." Misato gestured towards the other apartment. "Other..." Cologne’s glance followed Misato’s finger down the hallway. "I must say, that hole is very much like the blast from a bakusai tenketsu attack." "So, that’s what you call that. Yeah, Ryoga did that a couple weeks ago, I’ve been meaning to do something about the edges... what?" Cologne’s eyes popped fully open. "Ryoga? HIBIKI? Lost boy, bandanas..." She swallowed. "Robot pilot?" "You didn’t know, huh? Maybe I should introduce myself a bit better." Misato grinned. "I’m the Operations Director at NERV." "I should have expected that the son would favor the mother, especially in this case. Well! Who would have thought." Cologne stretched, the joints in her arms popping like firecrackers. "I take it that the young man didn’t become too distraught? His depression can be... rather spectacular." "I don’t think he knew that she was here." "I’ve certainly taken up enough of your time, then... what did you say his name was? The young man that stopped my great grand-daughter? He IS young, right?" "Who, Hyuuga? Yeah. Makoto Hyuuga. He’s one of the staff at NERV..." Misato paused. She would have sworn that the old woman had a predatory gleam in her eyes upon hearing the name. "Though, to be honest, I think he was as surprised as anybody else." "Yes. I see... Thank you for your hospitality, honored Sao... er, Katsuragi. I may visit you again." With that parting, the woman shot from her seat to the window, and again to the roof of the adjoining apartment building. --- "Yes, yes, what is it, Misato? You KNOW I’m busy getting ready for the test..." Ritsuko slumped down to a chair. The stress was starting to get to her. She’d nearly run screaming from the sound of her cellular phone. \"Doesn’t matter, Rit-chan. You HAVE to hear about this... I just had the weirdest conversation of my life."/ "Weirder than the one with Kaji about the Biblical origin of the automobile?" \"Much weirder."/ "I’m listening." --- Ryoga winced. He really didn’t like the concept of the decontamination shower in the first place; what could possibly be so clean that you had to be washed off with a high-pressure blast, several times, just to go in? It should have been relaxing, it should have been a nice massage, but all it managed to be was annoying. Perhaps if there wasn’t a spigot at eye level on all four sides of the stall... He chuckled to himself softly. At least it was warm water. Ritsuko’s voice came over the intercom. \"Okay, everybody, into the entry plugs."/ To his right, Ryoga heard Asuka’s shout. "Whaaaat? You mean... naked?" \"Exactly. We think that this type of connection will be able to raise your synch ratios by five or six points, without you having to actually DO anything."/ "But... I’M not going out in front of THAT pervert!" Not likely that Asuka was referring to Rei, was it? Ryoga turned to his right, opening his mouth to reply... whoa. The frosted glass of the shower stall hid, well, not much at all. He yanked his gaze forward and ducked his head, trying frantically to forestall a nosebleed. \"Don’t worry. We DO respect your privacy, after all. I’ve already turned off the cameras to this part of the complex."/ Asuka’s voice was low, more growl than human speech. "Ryoga, if you look at me ONCE, I swear, I’ll kill you so badly they won’t be able to find all of the parts!" "Um... ah..." That could be a problem. Despite his devotion to Akane, battered as it was, Ryoga seriously doubted that he could make it from one end of the hallway to the other without seeing either of his fellow pilots once. Not that he wanted to look, of course. After all, he’d seen Ranma in the nude on several occasions. The thought was enough to exterminate the last shreds of his libido, freeing him for constructive thought. "Asuka? Don’t worry about it. I think this will really work." --- Misato spit a mouthful of coffee back into her mug. "What is THAT?" "It appears that somebody needs to remind Ryoga about the definition of clothing. Soon." Ritsuko held her forehead in one hand as she stared at the monitor in front of her. It held the unlikely image of one Ryoga Hibiki, wandering blindly down the hallway, with a bandana pulled down over his eyes and another two or three twisted into an impromptu loincloth. "You know, Misato..." "Yeah?" Ritsuko sighed. "He looks pretty good in that." Misato dropped her mug, splashing a few ounces of coffee on a stack of supply requisition forms, and fell to the ground laughing. "I... I..." She regained some measure of control. "I thought that you said that men were all pigs." "Did I?" Ritsuko rolled her eyes. --- Aoba tapped furiously at his terminal, fingers flying over the keys in frantic haste. Only one more minute, and he would have reached the ninth level of the dungeon. He loved synch tests. The regulations said that all bridge technicians had to be on station, but without any actual Eva to keep track of, Aoba was really a fifth wheel on the staff. Hyuuga and Ibuki got stuck with all of the real work. Ritsuko frowned and paced from her station to stand over Ibuki’s shoulder. "Well?" "There’s a difference, but it’s not really all that much. Maybe a fifth of a point." Maya leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms. "I don’t get it." Hyuuga piped up from the technical console. "All three pilots normal. Ever since we fixed that feedback error on Asuka’s simulation Eva, there’s been nothing special going on." "Another five minutes and we’ll pack it in." Ritsuko leaned over and checked Maya’s monitor. "This is odd. There’s a temperature variation over that section of wall..." Aoba hit the "boss key" and zoomed a camera in to inspect. "It looks like... corrosion." "Corrosion... did ANYBODY get around to fixing that moldy wall sample we found in the 82nd protein layer last week?" "Checking... No, it’s on the work schedule for tomorrow." Hyuuga looked at Ritsuko. "Should we stop the test?" Ritsuko snorted. "What, do YOU want to be the one who tells Hibiki that we broke off an important test because we were worried about some rust? He’d rip you apart." Maya nodded to herself, absorbed in her own station. "The variation is increasing... it’s... getting hotter. Spreading..." Aoba had seen a time-lapse picture, once, of a sheet of iron left under a plant mister for two days. Whatever was happening to the wall of the test chamber, right now, looked exactly like that. Well, the... stuff looked much more green and blue than reddish-brown, but the spreading effect was the same. "Deploy the polysomes, NOW. Clear it off the wall." Ritsuko’s voice had lost the tired-end-of-shift tone and had assumed the obey-or-we-all-die quality it usually held. "Ready?" Hyuuga nodded. "Laser firing." The squat polysomes, small drones created specifically to prevent things like this, were armed with a blue-green five-hundred-kilowatt laser cannon. Ridiculously overequipped, for something intended to clean algae off of a tank wall. Better that than to take chances, the designers had thought. The first burst lit up the inside of the murky tank, throwing highlights over the three simulation Eva bodies. A section of growth disappeared in an actinic flare, as water steamed from contact with red-hot metal... the flare distorted weakly, and then the laser refracted, redirected by a hexagonal array of glowing force. Aoba turned to his screen. The designers had also thoughtfully created a nice override into the operating system used by the Magi, giving maximum priority to the detection and response of the Angels. Aoba’s ninth-level barbarian warrior vanished, replaced by just such an override. "That’s an AT Field!" A wail cut in over the communications link with the pilots. It took Aoba a moment to register the voice as Rei’s, another to recover from the shock, and a third to notice the convulsions of her faux Eva. \"It’s... there’s something..."/ The words were lost in a shriek. Ritsuko’s face hardened. "Get them out of there, now!" Maya reached down, flipping a red-striped protective panel back from next to her knee, and pulled a lever. Instantly, the backs of the three Eva simulation bodies explodes as their entry plugs shot free, passing through a blast door on their way to the Geofront’s lake. --- "It would seem that it has begun." "Quite." Gendo rested his elbows on the desk, white-gloved hands folded at his chin. Fuyutsuki leaned up against the wall of the office. "You know, the scenario calls for you to be elsewhere right now." Gendo nodded, and Fuyutsuki left the room. Obliquely, he had reminded Gendo that the same scenario called for him to be present at the tests. Gendo laughed, bitterly. The scenario had already been shown to be flawed; his presence or absence now would be irrelevant. Of course, he was still pretending to follow the scenario, so that Fuyutsuki wouldn’t panic. After all, it’s much easier for your subordinates to perform at one hundred percent if they really believe that they are assured of success. It was unfortunate that he was constrained from using that method with the pilots. That opened its own can of worms, but given the unpredictable and horrifying nature of their enemy, Gendo doubted that he would find overconfidence to be a problem. It was just a side benefit, anyway. He HAD to appear to be following the scenario, flaws and all. The scenario was SEELE’s creation, a step- by-step plan detailing their operations. Too bad, really. It would have been pathetically easy for him to derail the stated scenario. Now, he was left to improvisation and chance. There WAS another downside. If the scenario was already broken, then so were its assurances of success. He couldn’t afford to leave it to chance, this time. --- Ryoga drained the LCL from the entry plug. Whatever had gone wrong, he wasn’t going to worry about it. He had his own problems now... the first one being, how could he get anywhere with no clothes on? The plug, emptied of its fluid, was floating in something. He found the escape hatch, paused for a second. Yeah, it was on top. While turning into a pig would solve one of his problems, it would open a host of other problems. Ryoga blew the hatch. Yeah, there was a lake outside. He looked up at the orange-bright glare of the Geofront’s lighting. Rather pretty, really. Nobody had bothered to tell him what was going on, as usual, but it was fairly easy to assume that the other two plugs in the water contained Asuka and Rei. The hatch made a fine paddle, so long as he was careful to avoid splashing himself, and he made good time getting to the other plugs. The first one had a large "02" stenciled on it, making it much more than likely that Asuka was still alive. He reached out, placing a hand on the rescue hatch, and tugged. The metal tore free, and... he turned to see a hand flying toward his face. "You PERVERT! Get away from here!" He winced, realizing that she’d be hurt much more than him, but he didn’t want to tick her off even more... The realization hit him an instant before Asuka’s hand covered his eyes. She wasn’t... she was... um... he felt his cheeks burning as he turned his back, jerky as a puppet. "I... uh..." He loosened a bandana and held it out behind him, relieved not to have accidentally brushed or hit anything. "Um... here!" Asuka snorted, snatching the bandana from his hand. "Oh, great. You better have washed this thing recently. Here, gimme another." Another? Oh, yeah, right. He unwound a second one, passing it to her without looking. For some reason, Ryoga couldn’t seem to think straight; he should have realized that one bandana wouldn’t be nearly big enough for... no, no, don’t think about it, Ryoga, just wait until she’s done... "Okay, you can look now..." Ryoga turned around, and saw Asuka’s head peeking out of the hatch of her plug. "I know what you were thinking. Don’t try anything out here, or we’ll have ham tonight." "I’m sorry, I didn’t... um... never mind." He pointed toward the other plug. "Uh... shouldn’t we get Rei?" "Sure, let’s... ack!" Asuka waved her arms in front of Ryoga’s face, blocking his view. "Don’t look! Don’t look!" She twisted, shouting in the direction of Rei’s plug. "Y...y... what do you think you’re DOING, Wonder Girl?" OH. Ryoga sat down, bringing his line of sight below the hatch of his plug. Outside, he heard Rei reply, "Swimming. The crews can recover the plugs later." "But you’re... not wearing anything!" Asuka’s voice was full of shock, with a small dash of... something. Ryoga couldn’t place it. "Yes." "But that’s... indecent! Really!" Rei sounded puzzled. "It is? Why?" "It just is, all right? Hey, porker! Pass a couple of those things up here. And DON’T you DARE look!" After a minute or two, long enough to get Rei clothed (barely, and Ryoga still averted his eyes from the two girls) and aboard Asuka’s plug, he proceeded to row/push the plugs to shore. "This is great. Look at me. I’m a fashion nightmare." Asuka turned, noticing Ryoga’s glance. "No, don’t LOOK at me! Geez! Couldn’t you at least have some decent bandanas? Or do they all look like this?" "They’re all the same." Ryoga felt like muttering under his breath. It’s not like they were INTENDED to be used as swimwear, after all. Besides, his mom had made them for him. --- Ritsuko wasn’t breathing. Well, that was not technically correct. She WAS breathing; she was not, however, cognizant of the fact. Nor, at the moment, could she possibly have cared. In all sorts of physical endeavors, the participants widely acknowledge the existence of a special state of awareness. Martial artists call it inner peace; basketball players refer to it as "the zone". Whatever the name, it refers to the same condition; physical action without thought, mental resources free to operate at full capacity, moving and reacting while time seems to slow and tunnel. It is the ultimate in concentration, and allows for feats that seem inhuman. Ritsuko was not a martial artist, or a basketball player. In fact, she was not much for any kind of physical exertion. While she was an accomplished scuba diver, she practiced it almost exclusively in the Eva cages, inspecting her charges. She’d played a bit of croquet in high school, as well. Nothing high-impact, at all. Still, though, if computer programming was a physical event, then Ritsuko had entered her zone. The Angel had suborned the three simulation bodies, then used their links to invade the MAGI computer networks. Doubtless, it wanted to scan the files therein. Perhaps, it would use the defense or self- destruct function to send the entire complex to kingdom come, as it were. Ritsuko shifted the defensive patterns, scrambling the signals yet again... for three minutes, she’d managed to stall the Angel’s intrusion, preventing it from making contact with Melchior, the first of the supercomputers that controlled the entire NERV operation. It could learn, the Angel. It learned and used its new knowledge ruthlessly. Software encryption, dummy entries, firewalls, none of the standard defenses were worth mentioning now. Ritsuko frantically shifted from one protocol to another, changing to her fifth one-hundred-twenty-eight bit coding key. She had designed the anti-intrusion measures herself, then gone back and ridiculously overdesigned them, and then doubled the whole works. It was a good thing... as it was, the Angel had already suborned the first four, and she had only one more key prepared. If it managed all six, then it would be in the computer banks no matter HOW fast she could respond. Thoughts fluttered outside the programming language. It learned and remembered, all right. Twice, she had barely managed to spot her own pattern, shifting it just before the Angel exploited the weaknesses. A third time, it had found the pattern first, Ritsuko unconsciously repeating an earlier defensive swirl of data, and bludgeoned its way further in. She was imaginative, she was intelligent, and she was going to lose this. Even without a mistake, it would only take another four minutes for it to finish off both the current key and the reserved sixth key. Ritsuko felt eyes on her. Without looking up, she knew the expressions: Aoba, his jaw hanging as he tried to follow her hands on the keyboard, their speed almost blurring the eye. Hyuuga, just sitting there looking, and his face full of the pain he would be feeling, the inability to help. Ibuki, her face a mixture of wonder and adulation, a student watching the master at work. Her mind, the small part not busy holding the Angel at bay, wondered at her next move. From inside one of the MAGI, it would theoretically be possible to manipulate the data directly, without the cumbersome command protocols... that might offset the natural speed and power advantage of the Angel. Even without all three MAGI, she still had a chance... Ritsuko felt it happen before it did. A stumble, a slip, a "g" pressed when "h" was needed, and the Angel was on the key, unraveling it in a display of sheer processing power that would have made Ritsuko weep with envy, another day, when she wasn’t about to die. She snarled, mentally, and fell back to the final key... The display went blank. For a moment, the lights did as well, before backup generators kicked in. Her terminal resumed, and the flow of data continued across the screen... No Angel. It was gone... "Akagi-san! Look!" Aoba gestured, waving at his command console, at a picture of the Eva simulation bodies. The distinctive printed circuitry pattern wavered, blurred, and exploded in a mad cacophony of red and gold shifts. For a week afterwards, she would swear that, in the maelstrom of its death agonies, Ritsuko perceived an image... of a hand, with a single, upraised middle finger... --- Fuyutsuki caught up with Gendo in the hallway. "The situation..." Gendo nodded, clearly impatient with the formalities. "Has been rectified, I know. Issue a public denial of the events, and then seal every record you can find. The results must remain confidential." Yes, of course. He’d have done that, even without the orders. "You should have seen her, Hibiki-san. Akagi was... impressive. It was a close thing, though..." "Not nearly as close as the scenario." Gendo smiled. Smiling? At the thought of a flaw in the scenario? Sure, he’d been a bit... different... over the last few days, but this? "I’m still not sure exactly what happened. The timing seemed rather fortuitous." Fuyutsuki shrugged. Puzzlement and concealment, you eventually got used to them around this man. "You didn’t..." Gendo’s facial expression changed again, to one completely unknown to the aged professor. Whatever it meant, it had none of the steel of his ordinary mien. "I had trouble finding it, of course." As soon as it had come, the expression faded, leaving behind the ordinary mask of resolve. "Contact me in the morning, and we’ll start the damage control." That was Gendo’s way of telling him that he should, quietly of course, bug off for the night. Naturally, it was a spectacularly bad idea, and Gendo would likely end up in the Ozarks before they caught up to him, but how could you say that to the man’s face? Fuyutsuki grunted his assent and turned down a side corridor, headed for an elevator. --- Gendo lay on his back, resting in the grass, and sighed. The stars were beautiful... of course, it had been late at night and more before he’d made his way free of the Geofront, and he seriously doubted that he’d managed to get more than a mile away from the city before he’d tired. Funny, that. Gendo remembered a time when traveling did not tire him, when he could wander for days between camps. A time long past, though. The business tonight had been closer than he had wanted to risk, far closer than he preferred to risk. It was amazing that Ritsuko had held up for as long as it had taken, with him sprinting down hallways and corridors. He had almost passed the main cable junction between the Pribnow Box and the main trunks leading to the MAGI before he had noticed. Compared to the time spent finding the thing, it had taken only moments to reduce it to a broken pile of electronic parts, and the cable itself severed easily enough. They would find the fire ax buried there in the morning, still hanging out of the wall. It had almost taken too long. The curse, that was why, of course. Gendo breathed deeply, attempting to impose a calm that he did not feel. It didn’t do any good to rail against his fate. Nothing productive could be gained from memories of a wife long lost, a family he hadn’t known in a decade or more. A family he couldn’t possibly be bothered with now. Gendo lay, in the grass, in the dark, under the stars, and recalled those memories. For a long time. "Fancy meeting you here." The voice, dry as old sandpaper, startled Gendo out of his pleasant reverie. It was the Joketsuzoku, the one from the diner and the other day, the one that knew his son. He didn’t really feel like having a conversation... but he had few such opportunities. "Should it be?" The withered thing sat, only lowering its eye level by six inches, and gazed at his supine form. "Not particularly. After all, the Hibiki wanderlust is legendary for a good reason. It was merely the fortuitous timing." "Fortuitous, is it?" Gendo smirked. "That means that you have some kind of request, or other. I can’t recall any other reason that you would want to find me." "Am I that transparent?" The old woman barked out a laugh, dry leaves crackling in fire. "No, I suspect that I will not need your assistance in my endeavor." "Then why stop here? It’s late, we’re in the middle of nowhere..." "This is Central Park, you fool." Gendo blinked. Come to think of it, the landmarks DID seem remarkably familiar. Regardless, he didn’t let the interruption stop him. "And I have had a full and busy day." "Don’t we all." The Joketsuzoku matriarch... her name was Cologne, wasn’t it? She sighed, quietly. "I suppose all that I really need is a person to tell. Since you know a few of the interested parties... and you’re here... and I sincerely doubt that you will flap your mouth..." That last, her eyes had lit with an inner fire while speaking it. The accusation took a moment to sink in to Gendo’s fatigued consciousness. A small moment. Then, the utter incongruity of the charge left him laughing, holding his sides to keep them from splitting with the humor. He gathered himself back, falling limply against the lawn. "I suspect that my discretion will be MORE than adequate." "Good. You ought to teach that skill to that wastrel son of yours; he has a tongue and no brain, at times. This... are you familiar with our tribal customs?" Gendo nodded, then qualified the nod. "I have some understanding, although it’s as much hearsay as experience." Cologne waved one arm, dismissing it impatiently. "The marriage custom, surely you have heard of that!" "Of course. What would be of more import to a lone male traveler..." Gendo’s breath became a hiss. "You don’t mean that Ryoga..." "Settle down! I never met your boy before coming here. This has to do with my great-granddaughter, and a boy by the name of Ranma Saotome." "Katsuragi’s lost child." Gendo rolled his eyes before returning them to the heavens. "Go on." "Lost? She found him a week ago. For a man in your position..." Gendo’s fist tightened, tearing grass from its roots. "Go on, I said." "Very well. Over a year ago, the young Saotome entered my village, accompanied by his tramp father. There, he defeated my Shampoo in hand- to-hand combat. There was... some confusion..." Gendo took the Joketsuzoku name in stride. "I am surprised at that. One would think that you, old as you are, would have the drill down well by now." "It’s not that easy!" Cologne let out an exasperated sigh. "Both father and son were under the effects of a Jusenkyo curse at the time." Curse? JUSENKYO curse! Gendo’s mouth opened into a wide grin, and he hastily coughed, trying to hide his rising glee. Misato’s child had managed to become afflicted with a Jusenkyo curse, now? "Are you listening to me, you brainless directionally-challenged fool?" "Oh, er, yes. Keep going." "Well. Once we had that sorted out, Shampoo set out to wed him. I, of course, assisted her in any way that I could." "Naturally." Gendo allowed himself a small chuckle. "And that has gone on for a year now." Gendo whistled. Well, puckered his lips slightly and made a noise that sounded something like a whistle, anyway. "And he’s lasted for a year? Are you sure he’s not gay?" "Don’t teach your grandmother to suck eggs, boy. That was one of the first things we tried." Gendo honestly found himself unable to recall the last time that he had been referred to as a "boy". Of course, compared to this woman, he WAS a boy. "He’s just managed to get himself into a marital tangle that I won’t bother with. He is resolving it, though." "Marrying your Shampoo?" "Marrying one of the others." Gendo’s eyebrows quirked once at the mention of "others", and again at Cologne’s frank admission of defeat. "And, to be more than honest, I’m sick of the whole ordeal. He’s not going to marry my great-granddaughter unless we tie him up and move him to China in his sleep, and that’s not an option." "Really? I thought that you... people... didn’t balk at such things in the past." He felt a rushing, a breeze, and then the impact of hardened wood against his forehead. Half twisting around in the grass, he regarded Cologne, but noticed no change in her posture. Fast, VERY fast. "In case you hadn’t noticed, boy, I am OLD. I can beat him... now... barely... sometimes. And he’s still getting better, whereas I am losing more every day. No longer does the knowledge make up for the flesh. Another five years, and I will have to... give up the Art." No question as to which Art she was referring; all Joketsuzoku practiced various styles of fighting. "A trifle, your problem." "What’s that? YOU have no worries, no regrets that you are aging, no long slide into oblivion?" Gendo shook his head, answering (for once) completely truthfully. "I have no such problem, nor such a worry." Cologne’s grin was wry, and rather hideous, considering the frame. "Of course you don’t." Her tone was patronizing, with a touch of something else. "At any rate, I’d just as soon be rid of him, and better for it. What I need... what I needed... was a pretext." Gendo nodded. "Some reason to break it off, something I could use for my own ends." "And?" Cologne inhaled, the action doing nothing whatsoever for her appearance. "Last night, my great-granddaughter provided one. She attempted to take matters into her own hands." "I almost feel sorry for the winning girl in that..." "Don’t; she’s homely and violent to boot. Heaven knows why it was HER. I always had my money on the okonomiyaki chef. Anyway, she was intercepted on the way... by one of your employees." Cologne’s plan flashed into Gendo’s mind, as clear as if she’d spent an hour explaining it. "I don’t think that Kaji will be overjoyed at the prospect. Besides, poaching on Misato still involves you with this Ranma." "Kaji?" "Yes. Ryoji Kaji. Doubtless Shampoo’s attracted to him too, but..." The old woman’s voice cracked like a whip. "She said nothing of a Kaji. I need to know about Makoto Hyuuga." "Hyuuga? He’s a bridge technician. Mousy little guy. Thick Coke-bottle glasses." Wait a minute... "When you say ‘intercepted’, you mean..." "It was euphemism for ‘beat within an inch of her life’, apparently so quickly that the others did not even notice her presence. A powerful martial artist, this Hyuuga?" "I didn’t think he had it in him." Gendo chuckled, softly, while looking up into the sky. "No, not in the least. I’d have expected him to wet himself first." "Lesson number one. You, Hibiki, are a poor judge of character." "Granted." Well, no, not really, but it never hurt to seem more humble than he really was. "At any rate, I filled Shampoo’s head with a great deal of fantastic terrors about what a horrible thing she’d done. She was never a great student of custom, and Joketsuzoku law is almost as complicated as your tax codes, so it was easy to convince her. A quick conversation with the Katsuragi woman, and everything is set." "Why are you telling ME this?" "Mostly because it’s much less fun to be devious if you’re doing it by yourself. That, and I did want to ask your permission to attach my great-granddaughter to one of your employees. After all, I would hardly want them to be... occupied... at a critical moment." Gendo sat up in the grass. "His job is highly useful, though not absolutely critical. Just keep this Shampoo away from the office, though. Wouldn’t do for her to get shot." "No, it would not at that." Cologne faded, her sense retreating before he realized that her form was no longer before him. He lay back down in the grass, laughing quietly to himself. "Hyuuga... I wouldn’t be in your shoes." Of course, given the proper wishes, he wouldn’t be in his own, either... but such was life. --- End of part 16 Questions, comments, and sundry go to akent@pdq.net