[Ranma][Fanfic] Chasing the Wind - Part 9

[J. Austin Wilde]

-Chasing the Wind-
By J. Austin Wilde
Fission Park Press

J. Austin Wilde
Minister of Propaganda and
Super Critical Reactor Axe Man,
Fission Park Press
jau...@aloha.net

Synopsis

Ranma and Akane are caught up in the middle of a scientific
pursuit of global electromagnetic events. The event in Nerima affects
both of their ki's, causing them to lose martial focus and suffer
terrible nightmares. The only way to keep the nightmares at bay is to
stay in close proximity when they sleep.
Ranma contacts his friend from the Second Korean War, Hiro Ohata,
who is working for the scientists as a 'Man Friday.' Hiro arranges for
them to come to England. Ranma and Akane join Professor McFogg, the
leader of the scientists, in his search for events.
They also run into a mysterious woman who has been following them.
She calls herself Anazali, and hints that in the search for these
events, not only will it repair their disrupted ki's, but will also end
Ranma's Jusenkyo curse. After experiencing events in Maes Howe
Scotland, and Granada Spain, they receive strange and disturbing
visions.
Nabiki, Tatewaki Kuno, and Ukyo are abducted by agents of a
Russian research team led by Doctor Grigory Casimir. Casimir is unaware
of the abductions, which are ordered by his former KGB assistant, Ivan
Tarchenko. Tarchenko conducts an interrogation and torture of Ukyo to
learn of the whereabouts of Ranma and Akane.
Kuno breaks them loose and the three of them flee across the
southern Ukraine. They are pursued by the huge and vicious Ukrainian,
Fyodor. Fyodor nearly kills them along the Dniester River, but they are
rescued by a man named Palandir.
Palandir takes them to his brother Aerandir, who delivers the
three to his uncle aboard his ketch, Kelebros. Aerandir befriends the
three during their short journey to an island in the Aegean Sea. He
also tells them that he is an 8000 year old descendant of an ancient
and now destroyed civilization. He also warns them that his uncle is
attempting to harness the incalculable powers of the Earth, known as
the Heart of the World; an act that will surely cause a disaster for
the Earth. The Heart of the World becomes tangible in 88 year cycles,
and is fact the climax of the cycle of events the scientists are
chasing.
Aerandir takes Kuno and Nabiki with him to Monaco, with Ukyo
electing to stay behind and rest. Kuno seeks to fulfill his oath to
Ranma, and Nabiki accompanies him if only to 'look after him.' Aerandir
has an invitation to the Prince of Monaco's Grand Charity Ball.
Professor McFogg is also invited, and takes Ranma and Akane with
him to Monaco. Ranma and Akane are reunited with Nabiki and Kuno, and
exchange stories. That night at the Ball, Ranma proposes marriage to
Akane, but before either can share their joyous decision, they are
attacked by Fyodor. Fyodor succeeds in capturing Ranma, But is driven
off by Hiro and Kuno before he can get Akane. Doctor Casimir is
outraged by this act, and joins Professor McFogg's group.
Working feverishly to find where Ranma has been taken, the group
plans a rescue before Tarchenko finishes with him and has him killed.
Ranma is discovered to be kept in the Russian Embassy in Paris. A
rescue force of Hiro, Kuno, Nabiki, Akane, Clay, Ferguson, Aerandir,
and Anazali go after him.
A fierce battle is fought between all parties, including one
between the brothers Aerandir and Palandir. Fyodor pursues the escaping
Ranma and Akane to the Eiffel Tower, where he throws them over the
side. The two cling to the ironwork frame, hanging on for their lives
when the next event hits the Eiffel Tower. Fyodor is driven off, and
Ranma and Akane are rescued by Hiro and Kuno. During the event Ranma
and Akane receive a vision wherein the souls of the destroyed
civilization reveal that they are trapped within the Heart of the
World, but no attempt must be made to harness it to free them. They
tell the two that they must stop any attempts to do so. The rescue ends
with them flying back to England aboard the Catalina seaplane Bettie's
Dare.
Ryoga Hibiki wanders on through a jungle with no idea where he is.
He meets a strange golden-skinned man who offers him a meal and a place
to sleep. Ryoga accepts because he has nothing better to do.

Part Nine:
Gather the Storm

Chapter One

Ryoga Hibiki couldn't believe his luck could get any worse. He had
finally found someone in all of India (at least that was where he
thought he was) that he could talk to. The man had given him a
comfortable bed to sleep in, and the best food he had eaten in a long
time. (Even if wasn't Japanese cuisine.) But now he had gotten himself
lost. Again.
"Dammit!" He swore between clenched teeth. "I didn't even get a
chance to ask him where I was!"
**Much less even thank him...He probably thinks I'm some kind of
ingrate!**
He spent the rest of the day trying to find his way back to the
small little cabin where he had spent the night. There were no
landmarks to search for, there was only jungle, and it all looked the
same. He was just hacking through jungle now, he couldn't even find the
nominal game trail he had started upon in the morning
As the last of the sweltering day wore on, Ryoga conceded that it
was time to lay down to sleep. He wasn't asleep longer than an hour
before a familiar voice stirred him to wakefulness. He opened his eyes
to see the same man who had taken him in the day before squatting next
to him. His faintly golden skin glowed in the waning light of the day.
"Was my hospitality that poor?" The man asked him in a joking tone
of voice.
"No!" Ryoga blurted, happy to see him and a little embarrassed
that the man might think that.
"I was worried," he said with a chuckle. "I don't entertain guests
very often, and I feared that your disappearance was a reflection upon
my stale hospitality."
"Not at all!" Ryoga cried. Now he was really embarrassed. "It's
just that I uh, well, you see I kinda have this problem..."
"Problem?"
"Yeah..." Ryoga made a weak grin and tried to laugh it off. "I
sort of get lost easy."
The man nodded sagely and looked around the jungle. "Yes, I could
see where one could get lost in the middle of this quite easily.
Fortunately for the both of us I have lived here for a good while and
know the way."
He looked back to Ryoga.
"Are you hungry?"
Ryoga was in fact famished. He had been so desperate to find his
way back to the cabin that he hadn't eaten any of his meager store of
traveling rations. He bobbed his head in agreement.
"Well then, perhaps we should retire to my home. I have a nice bit
of venison roasting, and it should be quite tender by now."
He stood up and began walking up the slope of the gentle hill
Ryoga lay against. Ryoga hastily got to his feet and followed the man.
He wasn't going to let him out of his sight.
"Excuse me, sir?" Ryoga asked as he caught up with the man.
"Yes? What is it?"
"I uh, I never did ask you your name..."
The man stopped and turned to face him. He extended his hand to
him. Ryoga took it in his. He was about to shake it when he realized
the strange man had no such intentions. He simply clasped Ryoga's hand
in his for a moment.
"I am known by many names, but my given name is Minhiriath. A
small bit of humor on my parents' part. They were both named after
rivers."
Ryoga was pretty sure there was a joke in there somewhere, but he
was at a loss to find it. He tried to laugh, decided it wasn't
appropriate if he didn't catch the joke, and instead introduced
himself.
"I am Hibiki Ryoga."
The man smiled and released his grip.
"Am I to know you as Hibiki, or as Ryoga, or as Hibiki Ryoga?"
Ryoga wasn't sure how to respond. Did he really know this man well
enough to warrant the familiarity of first names? The man was his elder
though.
"Uh, Ryoga would be okay."
"Ryoga it is then! Come Ryoga! If I am half starved, then I can
imagine how your belly calls out to be filled!"
Ryoga followed Minhiriath up the hill. To his chagrin he found
that the cabin was at the top of the hill, and that he had been walking
circles around it all day. He just couldn't believe his bad luck!
Minhiriath opened the door for him and bade him enter. He would be
along shortly, and wouldn't he sit and make himself comfortable? Ryoga
stepped inside a little self-consciously. Minhiriath walked around the
corner of the cabin humming to himself.
The inside of the cabin was as he remembered it from the previous
day. Rather spartan furnishings, all made of wood save for a single
wrought iron chair that sat unused in the corner. A wooden table with
four chairs stood next to the simple kitchen and wood burning cooking
stove. Great bunches of red peppers hung from the high open beamed
ceiling to dry. Near the fireplace, which was cold and unused in a
great while, were two worn out but very comfortable old upholstered
chairs and a small finely crafted and carved coffee table made of oak.
Ryoga was no expert on trees, but was pretty sure there were no oaks
around here. A great many books and papers cluttered a desk in the
corner of the room farthest from everything else.
The place had a very homey and comfortable feel to it. Nothing
distinct, just a very reassuring lived-in kind of feel. The cabin
radiated well being. He watched the dust glitter through a glass window
in the kitchen alcove and sat down in one of the chairs. His weariness
was replaced with a sense of drowsy contentment.
Minhiriath appeared some time later with a sizzling skewer of meat
and several fired clay bowls balanced atop each other. Ryoga stood to
help him, but the gold skinned man waved him off. He set the food on
the table, which Ryoga now noticed had places laid out for two.
"We came home at just the right time," Minhiriath observed. "The
meat is so tender it's nearly falling off the skewer." He gestured to
the simple but inviting spread upon the table.
"Help yourself Ryoga, while I fetch the bread and the butter. Do
you drink wine or would you prefer something else? I have a very fine
wheat beer; I racked it into casks just last month and should be quite
drinkable."
Ryoga made his way towards the table.
"Water please," he told him.
Minhiriath clucked disapprovingly. "Are you certain? It's very
good wine. And the beer..." His eyes seemed to drift away dreamily at
the thought.
Ryoga shrugged. His host seemed to be very politely insisting.
"Well, a little I guess."
The golden skinned man gave him a toothy sparkling smile. "You
won't be disappointed my friend."
He stepped outside again.
Ryoga took a seat at the table. In spite of the invitation to dig
in from his host, he decided the polite thing to do would be to wait.
Minhiriath stepped back inside with a loaf of bread, a crock of butter
precariously balanced on the top of his head, and two large mugs of ice
cold beer. Ryoga could only conclude that the man had an ice house or
something like it around, as the cabin had no electricity.
Minhiriath set a mug of beer before Ryoga, then caught the butter
as it slipped off his head and placed it next to the bread. He took a
hit from his mug and then sat down across from Ryoga.
"I admire your sense of manners Ryoga, but if you don't start
eating I shall stave your skull in." He told him with a glint in his
eye and a tone of voice that seemed to say he wasn't kidding.
Ryoga took the hint. He carved a large piece of meat off the
skewer with a knife as Minhiriath began buttering a slice of bread. He
crushed a few dried red peppers over Ryoga's venison and then sat back
to watch him eat.
Ryoga knew the peppers weren't terribly hot, but had a rich and
lively flavor to them. He had been eating such highly seasoned food for
two months now, and had grown accustomed to it. He took a bite and
nearly melted with delight. The meat was so tender and full of flavor
that his tastebuds were about to explode with overload. It might have
been the dull routine of weeks of traveling rations, but the food was
absolutely amazing.
He washed it down with a drink of the beer. It was mellow and a
little nutty flavored. It was also ice cold. He took another drink.
Minhiriath laughed and began to eat as well.

Later, when the two of them had eaten enough for six grown men and
the sun had long since set, they sat at the table and drank more of the
beer and talked. Ryoga was happy to have someone to talk to, and
Minhiriath seemed to be of a similar mind. Ryoga talked about his
travels, his uneasiness at admitting his problems of misdirection
washed away with a few mugs of Minhiriath's beer.
His host for his part talked of his garden and his wine and beer
making, and of the local squabbles that sometimes shattered the peace
of the hill he called home. Ryoga was familiar with them as well. He
had made a few enemies among the bandits and mercenaries that wandered
down from the nearby mountains in his travels.
"I always thought India was a peaceful place," Ryoga remarked.
Minhiriath gave him a funny look.
"I'm sorry Ryoga, it must be the beer, but I thought you said
India a moment ago."
Ryoga began to get that sinking feeling again.
"Uh... You mean this isn't India?"
Minhiriath barked out laughter. Ryoga began to blush with shame.
"Heavens no, Ryoga!" He cried merrily. "You spoke of misdirection,
but you honestly thought this was India?" He laughed again, then
stopped when he saw how ashamed and sad Ryoga looked.
"I am sorry Ryoga. I know this must be terrible to have to listen
to. I regret to say that you are a continent or two off course. You are
in southeastern Peru. The closet thing approximating a city around here
is Puerto Maldonado about three days walk from here on one of the
feeder tributaries to the Amazon River."
The color drained from Ryoga's face.
**Peru? I'm in Peru? Where the hell is Peru?**
Ryoga raised his hand slowly, wanting to speak.
"What is it, man?" Minhiriath asked him.
"Where exactly _is_ Peru?"
Minhiriath decided that Ryoga was quite sincere in his ignorance.
There was no point in belittling him any further on it, the young man
had obviously suffered enough.
"The western coast of South America my friend. A very long way
from India I'm afraid."
"I'm supposed to be in China," Ryoga lamented. "How did I get
here? How?"
Minhiriath thought back to Ryoga's wandering tales.
"You said you did a lot of traveling in the dead of winter,
correct?"
Ryoga nodded sadly and took another drink of his beer.
"And you said you were sure you didn't cross any oceans, correct?"
Ryoga nodded again and took yet another drink.
Minhiriath thought about it for a moment, but there was only one
explanation, however unlikely it seemed.
"Well my guess is that you somehow blundered north into Russia and
then crossed over the Bering Strait into Alaska while it was frozen
over. Although how you came all the way south, passing through the
United States, and getting here without realizing that you weren't in
Asia anymore astounds me."
Ryoga blushed again.
"Well you see, part of my problem with me getting lost all the
time might have something to do with thinking about other things than
where I'm going. I do that a lot when I walk."
"You must have had something that weighed very heavily upon your
mind that you didn't notice the United States of America."
Ryoga stared down into his nearly empty mug of beer.
"Yeah... I guess you could say that..."
Minhiriath took Ryoga's mug and dipped it into the cask that he
had long since brought inside. He handed the full and foamy cup back to
him. Ryoga took another drink.
"I think this may be something you wish to talk about, but if that
is not the case then I shall make no more mention of it," Minhiriath
said quietly.
Ryoga nodded and drained half of the mug. His host declined to
fill it again for him; the young man had drank enough for one night.
Instead he sat there in the uncomfortable silence that followed and
watched his guest lower his head deep in thought. **Akane...** Ryoga
thought sadly. **Akari...** He sighed in his drunkenness. **I'll never
see either of you again...**
Minhiriath watched as Ryoga drifted away. He wasn't expecting the
man to roll forward and spill his mug of beer all over himself. He
certainly wasn't expecting what followed.
Ryoga began to squeal in drunken rage within the folds of his
clothes. When the little black pig stuck his snout out from under the
dirty olive drab tank top with a cursing grunt, Minhiriath's eyes went
wide for a second. Ryoga began to blush shamefully as best as a pig
can.
"Good heavens, Ryoga!" He cried. "It appears misdirection is the
_least_ of your problems!"
Ryoga squealed and nodded his head. His little eyes were beady and
bloodshot.
"Is there anything I can do? Does this wear off in time?"
Ryoga shook his head and tried to grunt an explanation.
"I'm sorry, I'm not following you... Wait just a moment. I'm just
a little out of practice with this."
Minhiriath squinted a little and seemed to stare into Ryoga's
skull.
^Now what changes you back?^ He thought into Ryoga's mind.
Ryoga scooted to the back of the chair in surprise.
^Calm down Ryoga, if I wanted to eat you I would have done so when
you were a man. There's more meat on you that way. Now I asked you what
changes you back?^
Ryoga wasn't sure what to make of this development, but thought
back in response:
**Hot water.**
Minhiriath nodded. Ryoga was just a little drunk, and his thoughts
were scattered and slurred, but hot water seemed to make sense; as cold
water (or beer) had changed him in the first place.
"There! That wasn't so difficult. Wait right here and I'll put a
kettle on."
Minhiriath got up and set a kettle on the cook stove to boil.
Ryoga squealed dejectedly and settled into the folds of his clothes.
With the shock of his transformation over, he was starting to feel the
beer again (in his bloodstream anyway). He began to pass out.
^Would you prefer we wait until morning to change you back?^
Ryoga nodded sleepily and passed out.
When the young pig was fast asleep, Minhiriath picked up him
gently and carried him to one of the chairs. He noticed the bandanna
around his neck and thought it was a little silly that it should have
stayed on him when he had lost the rest of his clothes in the change.
He set a thin wool blanket over him and retired to his desk where he
lit a few oil lamps.
As Ryoga began to make piggy snoring sounds, he poured over his
books and papers. Taking a calculator out of a drawer, he began
punching in numbers and scribbling the results on a large chart. With a
compass and straight edge he began tracing out lines that if one looked
out the window, would approximate the tracks of stars moving across an
ancient sky.

* * *

Hiro rapped softly on the door and let himself in with a slight
limp. It was just past two in the afternoon of the next day. They had
been fighting for their lives in Paris only last night. He was wearing
a bandage on his temple where a bullet had grazed him. Doctor Vickers
had only used three stitches to close up his head and six for his leg.
"Hello Hiro," Akane said fondly to him. She was in a nightgown
lying beneath the sheets on her four-poster bed. Ranma was still
asleep, head laying against her bosom. She stroked at his hair idly as
he slept. Nabiki sat next to the bed, apparently chatting with her
younger sister. The balcony window was open, letting the warm June sun
into the room. A pleasant and sweet smelling breeze carried through.
"Has he been asleep this whole time?" Hiro asked in a whisper.
"He's exhausted," Akane replied. "But he bounces back quickly, so
I don't think he'll be this way for long."
"How is everyone else?" Nabiki asked.
"They're coming around now. The Professor was talking about having
a late lunch or perhaps a very large supper served early. I can get you
some tea and biscuits if you like."
Nabiki thanked him but declined.
"Any word from Aerandir?" She asked instead.
"I haven't seen or heard from him since last night. I wouldn't
worry though. I think he can take care of himself."
Hiro watched Ranma sleep in Akane's arms and a smile of pride
crept across his face.
"Seeing that makes everything worth it," he said, and turned to
leave.
"Hiro?" Akane asked him. He stopped and looked back to her.
"Yeah?"
"Thank you," she said warmly. She wanted to say more, but there
was just so much. Hiro understood. He bowed for her and left, shutting
the door quietly behind him.
"He's such a dear," Nabiki remarked when he had gone.
"Hiro's always looking after Ranma and I," Akane agreed. "I think
it bothers Ranma a little, but I don't mind the attention. We've had
some interesting talks together over the last couple weeks."
She continued to run her fingers through Ranma's hair as she
spoke. Nabiki grinned to see the two so close and affectionate. It was
a little strange, but it was a good kind of strange. Everything that
classified as strange recently was _way_ out there. This was more in
her league.
"Hiro's right," Nabiki said after a little while of watching her
sister. "Seeing you two like this really makes everything worth it. I'm
really happy for you Akane."
Akane looked down to Ranma. He continued to sleep oblivious to
them.
"He was so beautiful," she said quietly. "I didn't know what to
do. I thought I was just going to burst with feelings... When he got
down on one knee and took my hands and looked up at me... I knew I was
seeing that tender part of him that was always there but usually
hiding... Even with what happened after, I'll always cherish that
moment."
Her eyes began to dew a little.
"Oh, I thought I lost him forever."
She kissed the top of his head and gave him a squeeze. He murmured
something in his sleep.
"He is the biggest jerk in the world sometimes," she observed.
"But when he isn't, I don't think there's anyone sweeter than him."
"Have you set a date yet?"
"No," Akane replied with a sigh. "I'm not too worried about it,
either. I know Ranma still has a few misgivings about this. Hiro tried
to explain to me what Ranma said to him in Spain, and I can see why he
feels that way. I won't rush him into this."
"I'm glad you're giving this some thought," Nabiki told her. "I
want to see you two happy together, and it sounds like you're going
about it the right way. Now all you have to do is convince Daddy that
it's a good idea to wait a little longer."
Akane grinned for her. "We've held him off this long."
Nabiki had to laugh at that.
Innael, Birathiel, and Gliredhel appeared at the balcony window
then with bright chirps of greeting. Nabiki couldn't believe her eyes
as the songbirds looked at her and chirped some more for her.
Akane looked up from Ranma and saw them.
"Oh Nabiki!" She cried. "They followed you!"
Nabiki stood up and called them by name. Each bird twittered once
in reply and flew to her arm. They sang a brief aria to her before
fluttering over to perch on a chair back and watch Ranma and Akane.
Bartok's Third Concerto for Piano and Orchestra

was the afternoon's performance, with the three supplying the
woodwinds, strings, and a spirited piano allegretto from Innael.
"I really love them," Nabiki said fondly. "They are _so_ amazing!"
Aerandir appeared at the top of the balcony then, knocking at the
window sill as he entered. He was dressed in white trousers and shirt
with a black cape over his shoulders and black tricorner hat with
yellow plume. His broadsword was conspicuously at his side.
"I hope I am not interrupting anything," he said to them.
"Not at all," Nabiki replied.
He gestured to the birds.
"Someone left them in Monaco," he remarked. "They were a little
lonely without their mistress about. So I offered to show them the
way."
"Thank you Aerandir," Nabiki said gratefully.
He bowed for her and doffed his hat.
"Your servant," he told her. He straightened himself and made a
sweeping motion with his hat to Ranma.
"How does he fare?"
"He's fine," Akane replied. "Doctor Vickers pulled a small piece
of metal out of his back, but it wasn't very serious. Only two
stitches. He's just tired because of the nightmares keeping him from
any sleep."
Aerandir nodded in understanding. "Would that I were able to do
for him what I did for you..."
Akane smiled gratefully for him. "I can't thank you enough for
what you did for Ranma and I."
"There is no need, Akane." He put his hat back on. "I must be off,
this dry land is anathema to me I'm afraid. I just wanted to see that
you were safe and well before I departed."
"You're leaving? You just got here," Nabiki said.
"Fear not Nabiki, you and I shall meet again soon enough. For now
know that I have other matters to attend to."
He stepped up to the balcony.
"Farewell Akane. Farewell Nabiki. I would have liked to have
spoken with Ranma, but it can wait. Farewell!"
He jumped out of the window and was gone by the time Nabiki
reached the balcony.
"He could have used the door," she remarked.
Ranma by now had stirred to wakefulness. He yawned groggily before
feeling Akane's warm hands brush against his face. With his eyes still
shut he clasped them in his and turned over to face her. She pulled him
close and he began to kiss her deeply.
Nabiki whistled appreciatively for them.
Ranma and Akane broke from the kiss with a start, and the two of
them began to blush furiously at Nabiki.
"Don't let me interrupt anything," she said slyly to them.
Ranma yawned again, still blushing. "Morning, Nabiki."
Nabiki winked at him. "It's not morning anymore you lazy lug."
"Hmmmm..." He murmured. He stretched out on the bed, playfully
pushing against Akane as he did so. "Coulda slept for another coupla
hours without that racket." He pointed to the birds, which ceased their
singing in response.
Nabiki affected an immediate look of disapproval.
"No culture whatsoever," she huffed. "Very well Akane, I leave you
to your barbarian fiance."
She opened the door and looked to the songbirds.
"Come girls," she told them.
Innael, Birathiel, and Gliredhel chirped in response and took wing
after her.
She closed the door as the last one swooped past.
Ranma looked to Akane.
"Those are some well trained birds," he observed.
"And _you_ had to get them upset with you!" Akane scolded him in
reply.
"Aw, they're just birds. It's not like I hurt their feelings or
anything."
"I'm not so sure about that."
He had to laugh about that one. The look Akane gave him then
silenced him. He stretched once more and rolled to his feet. He winced
softly as he stood, and she saw his hand move to his back. He was
wearing only a pair of boxers, and the bandage gauze-taped to his back
was plainly visible above the waistband. Numerous bruises covered his
body, some recent and others fading.
"Are you all right?" She asked him.
"Just a little tender," he replied. "Plus I feel like I got run
over by a couple busses. I'll be okay once I get a bath and something
to eat."
He walked into the bathroom, and she could hear him making his
rounds at the toilet.
"Remember to put the seat down!" She told him. **Gods, its like
we're married already!**
"You make it sound like we're already married!" He protested from
the bathroom. He flushed, and then the sounds of the tub running could
be heard. For this reason he didn't hear Akane start to laugh.
A rather interesting thought crossed her mind then as the water
rushed into the tub and steam wafted out of the door. She heard the
snap of his waistband as he took off his boxers. She stood up and
headed for the bathroom, pulling her nightgown up over her head as she
walked through the threshold of the door.

Chapter Two

It was with no small trepidation that Ivan Tarchenko stepped
through the heavy wooden doors and into the mahogany paneled room. A
haze of tobacco smoke hung in the air, lending to the oppressive pall
that hung over his head. Sunlight streamed through the hazy glazed
windows in stark beams, mingling with the smoke and providing
absolutely no warmth or comfort.
As he expected, they were waiting for him.
There were a dozen men sitting around a table made of mahogany
that was stained jet black. Several had crystal cups of tea before
them, while others smoked and sipped from brandy snifters. There were
another two dozen men at the fringes of the light along the paneled
walls; bodyguards. All eyes were upon him.
He knew who these men were. A medley of the old guard Communists
including Zhukerov -Leonid Brezhnev hard-liners to the core, a pair of
Georgian gangsters, a wealthy Muscovite with trading partners
throughout Europe and the United States, and more mobsters from Kiev,
St. Petersburg, and Minsk. The bodyguards were mafia torpedoes or
former KGB operatives with the occasional ex-Spetznaz trooper thrown in
for good measure.
Part of him wanted to look down at the floor to make sure there
weren't any dropcloths under his feet. He resolved not to give them the
satisfaction. If there was to be a bullet for him today, he would take
it standing up, facing them.
"Punctual at least," one of the men at the table remarked when he
shut the door behind him. There were a few muted murmurs in reply. A
few streams of smoke rose to the ceiling.
"I am ready to make my report," Tarchenko said to them.
"There is no need," the first man replied grimly. "We are well
aware of the events that have recently transpired."
There was silence as the man gave him a thoughtful pause.
"It was farcical," the man, who Tarchenko knew as Groschov, went
on. "Operatives killed, our embassy in France crippled, our nation
openly disgraced by such terrorism, precious hard currency squandered.
A farce. We are deeply disappointed in you Mister Tarchenko."
Tarchenko waited for that bullet.
"Instead of making a report you can tell us what you intend to do
to put the project back on track," Groschov said. A few more plumes of
smoke were blown towards the ceiling.
Tarchenko knew that his life depended on his answer. This wasn't
the days of the Party. These men were gangsters and thugs who would
think nothing of putting a bullet in the back of his head and leaving
him to be found in Gorky Park. If they wanted him found at all.
"Based on Doctor Casimir's work on the revised model, we have
determined where the final event will be held," Tarchenko said. He
hoped it was tantalizing enough for them.
"Doctor Casimir tendered his resignation by telephone this
morning," Groschov replied sternly. "He informed us of his intent to
assist Professor McFogg."
That was a surprise Tarchenko wasn't ready for. Undaunted at least
outwardly, he moved on as if it wasn't important.
"We have no need of him," he said firmly. "His model is
functional, and we have the rest of the research group to carry on. We
also have the notebooks of his father Andre, which detail the necessary
steps to contain the energy of the Heart of the World."
This last statement was his trump. Not even Casimir had known that
the books existed. Tarchenko had a second research team putting
together this final project under the old man's nose. It would be
tricky without the Doctor for advice, but he was certain they could
capture the Heart of the World on their own.
"And what of the two Wayfinders?" Groschov asked him. Tarchenko
wasn't sure if the man was satisfied.
"A costly mistake sir," Tarchenko admitted. "We have no need of
them. I shall eliminate them at the first opportunity. Doctor Casimir
as well."
That went without saying. He saw a few of them nodding their heads
in agreement with his declaration. Execution suited their mindset very
well.
Groschov consulted quietly with the others. Tarchenko strained his
ears to listen in, but could not tell what they were saying. He knew
they were deciding if they approved or not, but had no idea which way
it was going.
Goschov cleared his throat for attention.
"Very well Mister Tarchenko, you have convinced us to continue
funding and supporting this project. You will report back this time
tomorrow with a detailed plan of execution to secure for us the Heart
of the World. That is all."
Tarchenko nodded crisply for them and left the room. Only when the
door had closed did he heave a great gasp of relief. He wiped away the
sudden cold sweat from his brow and fought back a shudder.
Pulatski was waiting for him in the hall. His right arm was in a
sling from where he had been shot in the embassy. He was a little
strung out on painkillers, but coherent enough to do his job.
"I gather by the fact that you have left the room on your feet
that they are satisfied with the project?" He asked Tarchenko.
"We continue, but only by the grace of Casimir's model and your
prism."
"I was told by Gulayev that Grigory resigned to join McFogg's
group."
"I just learned it myself."
"Is it wise to continue without him?"
Tarchenko gave him a solemn look.
"I would say it was in our best interests to continue without him.
A collective farm in Siberia is no longer an option in these
enlightened times."

* * *

Ukyo Kuonji couldn't believe her luck had turned so favorably for
her. She was the most peaceful and content she had ever been in her
life. Sarophan's island was just the getaway she needed.
The Ranma dreams had come every night. Every dream had left her at
ease. Never once had she wept because of them.
She wandered barefoot along the sandy beach, contemplating a swim
in the warm lagoon even as she thought about her dreams. The breakers
rolled in at her feet, foamy water washing along past her ankles. The
cry of gulls was distant and calming. The sky was blue and scudded with
high fleecy white clouds.
The next wave that rolled in settled it for her. She waded out
into the warm water and dove headlong into the next wave. When she
popped out of the water she threw her long fall of hair back and
laughed.
"How are we this fine day?" A voice asked her.
Ukyo looked to the beach. Sarophan was there, wearing khaki
bermuda shorts and a white cotton shirt with the tails hanging out. He
wore a wide brimmed straw hat and smoked from a long curved pipe with a
deep bowl. His silvery skin shimmered with the sunlight reflected off
the water.
"Just wonderful, Sarophan!" She replied. They had come to be very
familiar with names during her short stay.
"That is wonderful, Ianthe. I am glad to see you in such high
spirits."
Ukyo smiled for the old man, who brushed at his beard
thoughtfully. She waded towards him, her white bathing suit brilliant
in the noon day sun. She was getting quite the healthy tan, and her
skin glowed.
"I wonder Ianthe, if you would walk with me for a bit. I have
something to discuss with you."
Ukyo thought nothing of it. They had taken several walks together.
He would tell her stories of the ancient world and its many wonders and
peoples. At night he would light up the skies with his magic, and
entertain her and his servants.
Yes, _magic._ It was the only explanation for what he could do.
The fact that it was magic didn't bother her, she was well accustomed
to the strange and the supernatural from her brief time in Nerima. On
the contrary she thought it was wondrous and beautiful.
If she had any regrets about her stay with Sarophan, it was that
Nabiki wasn't here to share it with her. She found that she missed her.
She even missed Kuno, if only because the banter between him and Nabiki
was so precious. She hoped the two would get it together. As much as
she thought Kuno was a pompous ass, with Nabiki at least he was cut
down to size.
She joined Sarophan as they walked along the beach. The man had an
easy stride, one suited to walking and talking. She got in step with
him and he began to talk. He didn't mince words.
"I am glad to see you in high spirits Ianthe, but I also sense
great trouble within your heart."
Ukyo trembled slightly when he said this.
"Forgive me Ianthe, but I felt I must say something. I am
concerned for you."
Ukyo nodded slowly. "It's okay Sarophan," she said. "I guess there
is something I've been meaning to talk about. It's just that I've had a
hard time speaking about it to myself."
"I am a patient listener," Sarophan laughed.
His laughter was infectious. Ukyo began to laugh as well. "I bet
you are!"
He waited for her to speak on her own. After some minutes of
walking she did.
"I'm living with a regret," she began. "One I can't let go of
yet."
He nodded in reply but held his tongue. He waited for her to
continue.
"I lost my chance at someone I love because of a stupid mistake...
It wasn't his fault, he didn't know better... But then much later I
could have had another chance with him, and I blew it by waiting too
long."
Sarophan patted her shoulder affectionately. She explained to him
everything about Ranma and all that had transpired in the last three
years between them. Her tears when they came were slow and bitter.
"If only I had come to Nerima sooner," she sobbed against her
will. "Before he fell in love with Akane. It would have been so easy
and no one would have been hurt."
She sobbed again. "But I lost him. I lost him because I waited too
long to face him again... I could have been like the others and tried
harder, but then there was Akane... I don't hate her... She's sort of
my friend. I didn't want to hurt her, things just got confused."
Sarophan nodded again and stroked at her hair. Ukyo threw herself
against him and began to weep fiercely. He put an arm around her and
whispered soothingly into her ear.
"What if there was a way to start over again?" He asked her.
She stifled a sob and tried to reply.
"I don't see how."
"If there was a way to start over again. Before Ranma fell in love
with Akane. Before she fell in love with him. Would you take that
chance?"
She cried some more. He stroked at her long fall of dark brown
hair, still damp from her swim, and waited for her to answer.
"Yes," she sobbed. "I would."
"I can give you another chance, Ianthe. But you must be willing to
take it."
She looked up at him, brilliant green eyes wet and shining with
tears.
"How?"
"When the Heart of the World rises there will be enough power for
me to give you that second chance. You have seen what I can do, Ianthe.
I tell you that it is nothing before the power of the Heart of the
World. A tallow candle before the furnace of suns. Any wish, any desire
you have may be fulfilled in that moment. Even the streams of time may
flow as I direct them then."
She looked into his silvery eyes and knew that he spoke the truth.
"No one gets hurt, Ianthe... Everyone gets what they want. You
have the love of Ranma Saotome. He has the love of his childhood
friend. Akane is freed from marrying against her will."
She nodded her head slowly and the tears slowed.
"Is this what you want?" He asked her.
She closed her eyes and thought of Ranma holding her in his arms.
"Yes."
"Then I shall give you that chance, Ianthe."
She closed her arms around him and squeezed. A final sob slipped
past her lips. He gave her a fatherly smile and touched at her waist to
get her walking again. They continued down to the far end of the beach.
"I have noted that you are something of a martial artist," he
observed.
"Yeah, sort of."
"While we wait for the Heart of the World I shall teach you
something. It's a bit flashy, I confess, but it may come in very handy
in the future. For I shall tell you this: there are those who would
stop me from taming the Heart of the World."
Ukyo looked at him.
"The Russians?"
Sarophan nodded.
"The Russians, yes.. There are others as well. I shall tell you
about them as we train."

* * *

Tatewaki Kuno knelt before his sword in the solarium. He was
meditating. Hiro and Durango drank coffee and played chess while D-Day
dozed with a copy of the Times of London over his face. Ferguson
hammered away on his lap-top computer while carrying on a discussion
with Doctor Casimir.
Nabiki strode into the room with her three songbirds flitting in
deft circles about her. She was bursting with a smug satisfaction at
their adoration of her. She felt rather like a goddess.
Hiro looked up at her and his jaw dropped. Innael, Birathiel, and
Gliredhel swooped over his head to settle on a bookshelf over him. They
twittered at him, as if they were laughing at his expense. Durango
looked up at them with one eye closed.
"<Where the hell did _they_ come from?>" He asked.
Nabiki smiled graciously for him as she stepped up behind Kuno.
She bent at the knees and settled her elbows upon his shoulders, which
had the effect of killing his meditation. She leaned her head close to
his, snickered, and continued to smile at Hiro.
"<They came looking for me,>" she told him. The birds chirped in
the affirmative.
Hiro scratched his head.
"We left them in Monaco," he observed.
"Oh Hiro-dear, when will you learn that love conquers all?" She
asked him with eyes pointing towards Kuno. The swordsman was oblivious
to her attentions. Instead he harrumphed.
"Nabiki Tendo, thy impertinence has often found pardon within the
bounds of my gracious nature. Do not make presumption that this shall
continue to be so."
She stood up and twirled the hair on top of his head coyly with
her fingers.
"Oh Kuno-baby, thy capacity for clemency is boundless where I'm
concerned. Don't kid yourself!"
He looked up at her, trying to maintain his stoic countenance. It
wasn't working very well. She winked very slyly for him, and he flushed
ever so slightly. Hiro and the others didn't even notice the subtle
interplay between them.
"Nabiki Ten-"
Nabiki cut him off.
"That's all the abuse for now, Kuno-baby. If you'd like some more,
you can find me in my room."
She lifted a finger to her girls, and they took wing after her
down the hall.
Durango looked to Hiro, who sat there, mouth slightly ajar.
"<Did I miss something here?>"
"<You and me both.>"
Kuno gathered up his sword and started after Nabiki.
Hiro watched him go. "<Yeah, I definitely think we missed
something.>"
Kuno caught up to her as she reached the landing on the second
floor.
"Hold, Nabiki Tendo!" He called to her sternly.
Nabiki didn't even look back at him.
"I don't 'hold' for anyone, Kuno-baby. You of all people should
know this."
"I implore thee," Kuno added in a softer tone.
Nabiki stopped. Her songbirds perched on the railing and waited.
She turned her head slowly and looked at him.
"Yes, Kuno-baby?"
He stepped up to her. She was standing several steps higher than
the landing, which put her level with his eyes. He drew a deep breath
to speak. Nabiki tensed for monologue he was likely preparing.
"Know that I hold you in the highest respect Nabiki," he said to
her in a calm measured voice. "Do I ask too much of thee that you might
hold me in the same regard?"
Her eyes widened. This wasn't what she was expecting from him.
"Oh Kuno-baby, you don't take me seriously do you?" She asked
quietly.
His eyes lowered to the stairs for a moment.
"In truth there are many times when I find your irreverence
amusing, even becoming of you... There are also times when you wound me
Nabiki."
Nabiki didn't know what to say in reply. Kuno was so humble before
her she didn't have anything to cut down. It was as much a shock as his
apology to her in Monaco.
His eyes hardened then with steely glints as she watched him in
silence.
"There are few in this world that I would know as friends," he
continued. "Though I have never told you this ere today, know that I
hold thee among those I consider dear... If you would continue to hold
my esteem I would ask that you stay thy rapier wit from time to time. I
do not ask that you do so always in my company, for that would bind
thee against thy very nature, and thy irreverence is one of the very
qualities I admire in thee."
He stood in stoic silence for her to respond.
She leaned forward until her nose was just touching his. Her
walnut colored eyes shone clear and bright before him. He stood fast,
and she could almost feel him tense up.
"You know Tate-chan, I'll do that. Just for you."
His eyes twitched at the mention of her recent pet name for him.
She caught it immediately.
"Oh don't tell me I can't call you Tate-chan?" She asked dryly,
leaning back and setting her hands on her hips.
He regained his composure.
"I would ask that you would to keep that name between us," he said
solemnly. "It is unbecoming in public."
Nabiki smiled.
"If it means that you're still my Tate-chan, then your wish is my
command."
He flushed slightly as she called him 'Tate-chan' again. He put
his all into regaining the noble and stoic countenance he preferred to
affect. It almost worked. A bead of sweat ran down his temple.
She had to laugh at this.
"You really like it when I call you that, don't you?"
He cleared his throat before speaking.
"It is thoroughly unbecoming, Nabiki," he protested calmly.
"That doesn't answer my question, dear. I asked if you liked it
when I called you that."
He grit his teeth, trying not to remember the sight of her in that
tiny nightgown. It wasn't working, and the halter and short shorts she
wore wasn't helping matters. Nor the way she smiled at him wryly, lips
slightly pursed in amusement.
She pounced.
"Oh Tate-chan, you are such a darling when you get worked up," she
grinned, hands on her hips again.
There was this roaring sound within Kuno's head, sounding
uncannily like an erupting volcano. The badly worn clutch of his higher
brain functions was happy to slip loose and disengage. His tunnel
vision engaged instead, focused directly upon the unwary Nabiki Tendo.
He glomped onto her with a speed that was inhuman, lifting her up
into his arms and crushing her in his embrace. Tears streamed down his
face as he held her close. Nabiki made a few gasping sounds as she was
pressed against his chest.
"Oh Nabiki!" He cried. "That name inflames me so! Endless is my
passion! Oh forgive me my impetuousness!"
Nabiki coughed a few times to get his attention.
Kuno looked down at her, eyes still streaming tears.
"I am not your precious Pig-Tailed Girl," she informed him with
all of the patience she could muster. "I bruise easily."
There was a faint grinding noise as the clutch within his head
reengaged. He released her and set her gently upon the steps before
him. The tears ceased as one would secure a faucet. A quiet moment
passed between them.
"Pig-Tailed Girl?" He asked suddenly. The tears began to flow
again instantaneously. Nabiki wondered how he did it.
"Oh Pig-Tailed Girl!" He cried. "How I have betrayed thee! Just
when my way seemed clear I have stumbled from the path of True Love!
Forgive me!"
With one arm over his tearing eyes he fled down the stairs weeping
deliriously.
Nabiki couldn't believe she had just witnessed this. She sat down
upon the steps and watched him go. She settled her chin upon her folded
hands as she set her elbows on her knees. Innael, Birathiel, and
Gliredhel, who had kept silent throughout the exchange, began to
twitter amongst themselves. If she didn't know better, Nabiki would
have thought they sounded a bit like gossiping housewives.
She looked up at them
"And what are you girls discussing behind my back?"
The three ceased their twittering and peeped sheepishly a few
times in reply.
Nabiki set her chin back in her hands. This was the first time
that the barrel of nitroglycerin better known as Kuno's passion had
blown up in her face. She supposed she had it coming the way she got
him worked up... She had really blown it mentioning the Pig- Tailed
Girl.
"I don't know why I set myself up for this," she said to herself.
The three chirped once in agreement.
"I said it once, and I'll say it again: Tate-chan, you are _so_
hopeless!"

* * *

Ryoga Hibiki was a man once more. He was also a man with a
hangover. An 8.5 on the Richter Scale hangover. Minhiriath offered him
a vile smelling concoction in a small clay jar and told him it was a
sure-fire cure for what ailed him. Ryoga was fairly certain the cure
would be worse than the disease, as it were.
He pinched his nose and tossed back his head and gulped it down in
one shot. It took all of his will to swallow it. Once the foul stuff
had slid down his throat, he started coughing and his face turned
green.
Minhiriath chuckled as he watched Ryoga cough and gag.
"Tasty, yes?"
Ryoga gave him a dirty look when he had regained his composure.
"You'll feel better shortly, I assure you," Minhiriath told him.
Ryoga crossed his eyes as the last bit of aftertaste struck.
"I hope so," he managed.
Minhiriath left him there on the front porch of the cabin to fetch
the remainder of the hot water from the kettle to make tea. He had
changed Ryoga back into a man when the little piggy had stirred to
wakefulness lost and confused within the folds of the blanket he had
placed around him. Ryoga didn't seem to remember much about last night,
and seemed very ashamed to know that Minhiriath was aware of his curse.
The Maia for his part was amused and nothing more. Once the
initial surprise was past and he knew how to change Ryoga back, there
was nothing else to be concerned about. He set the kettle down next to
Ryoga along with glazed fired-clay tea cups decorated with some kind of
native motif and a few seed cakes.
"Drink the tea, have a cake; it will help settle your stomach."
Ryoga poured the tea kettle over an infusing basket in his cup. He
sipped at it and nibbled at the cake.
Minhiriath had a cake himself. As he ate he watched the sun begin
it's slow journey towards the distant peaks of the Andes mountains.
"I was expecting you, you know," he told Ryoga.
"Expecting me?"
"Yes. I had a dream the other night. In that dream I met you."
Ryoga ate another seed cake.
"That's weird." He didn't have anything better to say. Minhiriath
continued.
"I have a trip to make, starting this morning. In the dream I was
given the impression that you were supposed to accompany me."
Ryoga looked at him over his cup of tea.
"I'm supposed to go with you? How am I supposed to get home to
Japan if I go with you? Or are you going to Japan?"
Minhiriath laughed at this.
"Mercy no, Ryoga! I doubt I could walk quite that far in one go. I
usually like to linger a bit in one place when I travel great
distances. A long bit."
"So where are you going?"
Minhiriath pointed to the distant Andes range. From the vantage of
their hilltop they could see the sharply rising mountain range extend
to either end of the horizon. Clouds blown in from the Pacific scraped
across the crags and peaks and the dull grey blur of rainfall could be
seen.
"To the mountains. There is a lake there where some people claim
the god Wiraqocha appeared to them and taught them the secrets of
irrigation and agriculture. He taught them how to live in reciprocity
for all things. It is also the place that marks the very creation of
space-time for these people."
Ryoga scratched his head in thought. Perhaps if he had a better
idea where Peru was, he could get a sense for what the man was talking
about. He knew he had covered at least briefly the other religions and
cultures of the world in school, but his mind was always on other
things, and he found he couldn't remember anything of the sort that
Minhiriath talked about.
"So why am _I_ supposed to go?"
Minhiriath gave him a brief shrug. "I have no idea. Perhaps that
will become clear when we get there... Are you ready to do a little
traveling with me?"
Ryoga finished the last seed cake.
"Well at least I know where I'm going now," he said at last. "I'd
rather go somewhere than just wander."

Chapter Three

At the Professor's insistence they took a very large and early
supper out on the lawn overlooking the meadow and sometime airfield
that surrounded the estate. The cooks had put out quite a spread, and
even chowhound Ranma found that he just couldn't quite keep up. Akane
watched him slow down with a bemused smile.
Hiro sat on the other side of them, already quite sated. He
watched the two sit next to each other and suppressed a grin. There was
the oddest glow about them, but he couldn't put his finger on it. He
chalked it up to that mind altering state best known to poets and
songwriters as love.
Nabiki sipped from a glass of wine and talked with the Professor
and Doctor Casimir. The two old men smoked their pipes and traded
stories with her. The songbirds, never far from their mistress, chirped
idly in warm-up for their next performance from a chair back close by.
Ferguson continued to hammer away at his lap-top, remembering to eat
only when Katy Price prompted him to do so.
D-Day and Durango hadn't stayed long at supper. They were across
the meadow, preparing to overhaul the engines of Bettie's Dare. The
Catalina was surrounded by scaffolding and steel tube staging that the
Professor's men had set up earlier that morning.
Tatewaki Kuno kept apart from the others. He continued to meditate
on his sword, wondering if he would ever be able to conjure up the
flames of his spirit upon the blade. Aerandir had made it seem so
simple. Perhaps if his mind wasn't torn upon several ventures of
thought it would have been easier.
He looked over to Akane and Ranma. Akane looked so pleased to be
with him that Kuno's heart quailed at the sight. To think that she
would choose that churl over himself was simply too much for him to
accept. But accept he did, though his pride suffered for it.
**Oh Pig-Tailed Girl...** He thought sadly. **Would that she was
here, she would be the very balm to heal my heart.**
Then slowly, against his will and his better judgment, his eyes
fell upon Nabiki Tendo. She was the very opposite of the Pig-Tailed
Girl, and of Akane. She was no fighter, certainly no goddess of the
hunt like Akane. Her mannerisms made her more subdued than the vibrant
Pig-Tailed Girl, so full of life and reckless abandon. He had to admit
that she was pretty to look at, but that was as much a reflection of
the beauty of her sister, though Nabiki was the elder.
So why did he care at all for Nabiki? She wasn't anything like his
two loves. She was inappropriately condescending, impertinent and even
crass. She manipulated him, extorted him, and exploited him. Despite
this he found that her continued happiness and well being were
important to him. Somehow she was his friend, one of his only friends
outside of the world of kendo.
Perhaps it was because when she was nice to him, she really meant
the things she said and did. This at least was something he rarely
received from Akane or the Pig-Tailed Girl, who constantly denied him
in challenge to the strength of his love for them. He would fight ever
on to prove his love for them (or at least the Pig- Tailed Girl now),
but for some odd reason Nabiki never demanded the same of him.
Was it because she felt love for him? Or was it because she did
not? This was the bone of Tatewaki Kuno's contention regarding her. She
caught his glance and smiled briefly at him. He quickly returned his
attentions to his sword. At least he understood steel. The other
mysteries would come with time and reflection.
As Kuno pondered all of this he failed to notice the last guest
arrive for supper. It was Anazali, who was looking a little worn out,
but very happy to see Ranma and Akane sitting together. The Professor
and Casimir rose from their seats for her, and Ferguson poured her a
glass of wine that she accepted gratefully.
"I see our venture was of a successful conclusion reached?" She
asked them, eyes directed to where Ranma and Akane sat.
"Thanks to you and Aerandir," Akane replied with a smile.
"Hey what am I, instant ramen?" Hiro protested.
Akane slugged him in the arm. "And you too, Hiro."
Hiro rubbed at his arm. He smiled weakly. "Thanks, I think."
"<Will you be having a bit of supper with us?>" The Professor
asked her. "<You are most welcome.>"
Anazali smiled. "I can hardly refuse your hospitality, Professor!"
Hiro jumped to his feet to prepare a plate for her, insisting that
she be seated. Anazali laughed at this, but did as he wished. She
answered Hiro's questions regarding preferences as she watched Ranma
and Akane.
It was a little unnerving for Ranma.
"What is it?" He asked her.
"Tell me what you saw in Paris. When the event came."
Ranma rubbed at his head.
"I think we saw that island we saw before when we were in
Scotland," he began. "Only we were in this city and there was that big
pyramid."
"Don't forget the lions," Akane added.
"Oh yeah, and those stone lions from the fountains of the Alhambra
were there. They even spoke to me this time instead of just talking to
Akane."
"What did they say?" Anazali asked him.
"They told us to watch and learn," Ranma replied.
"And then the pyramid blew up," Akane threw in.
Ranma looked at her for a minute. "Who's telling this story,
anyway?"
"Well maybe if you got it right and didn't keep leavings things
out, I wouldn't have to interrupt."
"I was getting to those parts!"
Akane stuck her tongue out at him.
He rolled his eyes and ignored her. "So like I was saying, the
pyramid blew up." He shot a look to Akane, who made a face at him. "But
instead of everyone getting blown up with it, they got sucked into the
middle of the explosion. Then the lions were crying and told us that
they were trapped in the Heart of the World."
He looked at Akane again.
"What?" She asked "It's your story, remember."
"But you're dying to jump in, so just go right ahead."
Akane pushed Ranma aside and sat before Anazali.
"They told us not to free them," she continued where Ranma had
left off. Ranma now busied himself with a bunch of grapes. "They said
to do so would cause another disaster, and that they would rather stay
imprisoned than let it happen again. They told us to stop it."
Anazali nodded her head in agreement.
"Yes we must," she said to them. The rest of the group was quietly
listening in on the conversation.
"The event in Paris has convinced the last of the doubters about
your purpose in these matters. That is why I am here today. I am to
take you to meet with my people. Any remaining questions you have will
be answered there."
"Where's that?" Ranma asked, his attention now firmly on Anazali.
"Peru," she replied. "The Island of the Sun."
"<Lake Titicaca if I'm not mistaken,>" McFogg said from behind
her.
"Correct, Professor. It was and still is a place of power in this
world. My people gather there from time to time. They are assembling
there now to take final counsel before the arrival of the Heart of the
World."
"<You're here just for Ranma and Akane or can the rest of us come
too?>" Ferguson asked. "<I'm asking because my preliminary sims are
pointing to a location in South America very shortly for the next
event. And if that's true, then it means the model is working again!>"
Anazali nodded. "One will happen there during the counsel. It is
our last chance to speak to our ancestors before the Heart of the
World."
"<Say again, love?>" Ferguson asked. He had been out of the
metaphysical loop, so to speak, regarding recent events in favor of his
scientific analysis. With a little help from Casimir and some
inspiration of his own, the model was most definitely on track again.
He could almost taste his Ph.D.
"Ranma and Akane are correct when they say that the souls of my
ancestors are trapped in the Heart of the World. They can speak to us
directly only through these events. At other times they visit us in
dreams, but those are rarely clear to us."
She looked to the Professor. "Your research group is welcome
provided they abide by certain customs. They will be explained to you
upon your arrival. I would ask that you limit your staff to a necessary
few however."
McFogg puffed at his pipe. "<Of course, madam. Ferguson, get a
list of what you need. I'm sure we don't have very much time to
prepare.>"
"<On it Professor,>" Ferguson answered. He and Katy got up and
headed back inside the mansion.
Hiro handed Anazali her plate. "I shall accompany you to the
airport in La Paz, Bolivia, in four days," she told Ranma and Akane.
"From there arrangements will be made to take us to the Island of the
Sun. I cannot force you to do this, but I implore you. You have seen
what happened the last time the Heart of the World was tampered with."
"If we're supposed to stop this, and that's what I'm guessing
Akane and me are for, how's that gonna help me get my Jusenkyo cursed
lifted?" Ranma asked. Akane started at the mention of the curse and
looked over to Kuno, who was still meditating on his sword, oblivious.
Anazali began to eat. "It will be explained to you when the
Conclave of my people begins. I am sorry Ranma, but I am very much the
servant of the others. I do not know the answer to that question. I
only know that it is possible."
"So you'll be staying awhile?" Hiro asked.
"Yes. Palandir was wounded during the fight, but I doubt he will
be hurt for very long. He has already demonstrated his willingness to
kill Ranma and Akane if necessary. I doubt I could defeat him in a
battle, but I will be able to delay him enough for them to escape."
Ranma grit his teeth at that. Running was the last thing he wanted
to do when their lives were in danger. Running was their only option
last night, when he was too tired and hurt to be effective, but give
him a day or two to get back together and he would take on all comers.
Akane sensed what he was thinking. Or at least was long accustomed
to the way his mind worked. She looked to him with concern. He returned
the look. It was concern for her that would drive him on to fight
whatever battles were necessary to keep her safe.

* * *

Ryoga Hibiki was glad to get out of the jungle. They hiked up a
meandering trail along a small river that charged down from the
mountains that were capped with snow. The rarefied air felt clean and
cool in his lungs, and he knew this was good training to be exerting
himself at high altitude.
"How high are we, anyway?" He asked.
"Almost to the 4000 meter level," Minhiriath replied. "Soon we get
to the steep part of this climb."
Ryoga looked up to the towering wall that was the Andes range.
They went from the small open terraces of the monta a to the sheer
cliffs of the mountains. They would make their way up the narrow gorges
of streams and along winding footpaths. Here they saw farmers tending
to crops of maize and fruits and (occasionally) the coca plant. Coca
was a fundamental part of the farmers' diets, Minhiriath explained. It
allowed them the stamina to survive the rigors of high altitude farming
and provided energy against the cold.
It was very cold up here at the roof of the world. Ryoga had borne
the burden of the heavy clothes his companion had provided with silent
discontent through the jungle. Now he was glad for the heavy coat, made
from the wool of the llama.
They saw whole herds of llamas and their alpaca cousins as they
walked. They had been traveling for four days now, and the food they
had brought was almost gone. Ryoga found himself eating more than he
expected just to keep active and warm. Minhiriath wasn't concerned. He
planned to buy a llama and butcher it for the meat that would get them
over the mountains and to the lake.
At one such farm house nestled within a tiny clear patch of
ground, Minhiriath produced a small bag of odds and ends and began
negotiating with the woman of the house. They bantered in a language
Ryoga was unfamiliar with. It wasn't like what he had heard in the
lowlands, although he did catch the occasional word of what he now
understood to be Spanish.
The woman settled on a set of stainless steel sewing needles,
several spools of thread, a large box of stick matches, and a pouch of
herbs from the jungle far below. Minhiriath thanked her, and she
invited them in for strong tea and a maize cake sweetened with honey.
"Never fear Ryoga, when this fine lady's husband and sons come
home, we shall have our llama to eat."
Ryoga scratched his head.
"You bought a llama for some sewing needles and a box of matches?"
"Of course not!" Minhiriath replied. "I bought some of the llama's
meat. They plan to butcher one anyway to celebrate the rising of Fox in
the sky and to the flood that blackened his tail. It heralded the end
of the Third World for these people."
Ryoga understood the part about Fox rising into the sky, as it
hadn't taken but the first clear night sky for Minhiriath to reveal his
passion as an astronomer to him. Fox was one of the black splotches
against the glorious band of light that was the Milky Way. There were
other animals represented, but Ryoga could only remember Fox and Llama.
"In any event I do have some money, but it wouldn't do this family
very much good up here. It would get stolen by bandits most likely.
Things like sewing needles and matches and medicinal herbs from the
jungle are more useful than scraps of paper or bits of silver and gold.
Whatever they earn from their llamas' wool they'll spend on such things
while they are still in town. Which in this case would be Ayaviri and
two days walk from here."
Ryoga understood. He had spent enough time wandering amongst the
salt of the earth to know that a day's labor for a meal and a bed was
worth more than what few coins he kept in his pocket. He ate his maize
cake and watched the woman work with her two little girls grinding more
of the corn into meal.
He sighed wistfully at this. **If only I could just settle down
and have a family of my own! That would make me forget all that I have
suffered!**
Of course that would mean he would have to have someone to start
that family with. At the moment there was no one. He was 6000
kilometers across a vast ocean from Japan. Akari was just a face that
sometimes came to him in dreams. Akane frequented them too, but he knew
in his heart he would never have her. Both of them may have well been
on the moon for all intents.
"You're getting weepy-eyed Ryoga. Remember what happened the last
time you did that," Minhiriath advised.
Ryoga grunted a curse.
"Would you like to talk about it?"
Ryoga shook his head.
"Very well Ryoga, I leave you to your thoughts."
Much later the man of the house and his three sons came home. The
woman introduced Minhiriath and Ryoga, and explained to them the
bargain she had struck. The men looked them over. A golden-skinned man
and some other foreigner, probably Asian, although they had never met
one before. They knew of the kin of the golden-skinned man, and so were
quick to agree.
Places were set at the table and a bottle of home-brewed hooch was
offered to them. Ryoga was about to decline when Minhiriath informed
him that it was impolite to refuse such hospitality. Ryoga settled for
one sip of the stuff, which went down like battery acid. Minhiriath
took a healthy pull from the bottle and proclaimed in a loud voice to
them that they were in the wrong line of work, and should take up
distilling full time.
They went outside then with the waning sun and fetched one of the
llamas. They took it around behind the house where a large tanned skin
was laid out on the cold ground. Minhiriath was offered the knife, as
befitted his status.
Ryoga watched as the golden-skinned man calmly approached the
animal. The llama chewed at some grasses in it's mouth and had no sense
of what was to take place. Minhiriath thanked the animal (Ryoga heard
this to wondering ears), and brought the knife cleanly across the
llama's throat. It didn't flinch or start, but simply stood there for a
moment as the life pulsed out in steaming floods. Minhiriath helped it
settle to the ground, where the blood pooled upon the skin beneath it.
When the llama was dead, the father and sons and Minhiriath offered up
a prayer of thanks, and set to butchering it right there.
The finest cuts of the meat were set aside from the others. >From
these Minhiriath was given his pick. He took enough for a good meal
that night and enough that could be smoked and last for the next two
days to reach the lake. The rest was taken to the smoke house set into
the side of the mountain. The fires had long since burned down to rich
hot coals that morning in preparation for the butchering. Ryoga found
the heat delicious in the waning sun.
Although the fare was simple, they ate well, and Ryoga was given a
place with Minhiriath by the fire. Minhiriath sang the younger children
songs which Ryoga found he could understand as well as the little
girls. He guessed that it was no difficult task for a man who could
talk to you in your head.
Ryoga fell asleep sometime later. Akari visited him in his dreams,
and Minhiriath saw that two small tears trickled down the man's face as
he slept. He clucked sorrowfully for the man and settled down next to
him by the fire.

The next day found them reaching the top of that particular part
of the range they crossed. To Ryoga's far left he could see the snow
covered peak of Ancohuma, towering at 6400 meters above sea level.
Minhiriath estimated they were about 5200 meters high themselves. It
was deathly cold as they walked, and in many spots there was snow and
patches of ice. It was winter in the southern hemisphere, and only
their proximity to the equator kept them from facing an even more dire
cold.
From there the trip was mostly downhill, and they made good time.
The air thickened, but only slightly, and Ryoga found he was growing
used to it. As they traveled Minhiriath told him that the lake sat
about the 4000 meter level, and was the world's highest navigable lake.
On the morning of the second day they came out onto the dun
colored expanse of altiplano surrounding the lake. Titicaca glittered a
deep lapis-lazuli against the sunny sky. Ryoga could see the tiny wakes
of barges and tugs in the distance. Irrigated farms along the lake were
patches of green against the alkali plains of the surrounding
altiplano. Minhiriath mentioned that modern efforts to reclaim the land
for farming had failed, and in the end the time honored techniques
Wiraqocha had taught their ancestors were what was bringing life back
to the shores of Titicaca.
"We shall take a ferry across the lake to the village of
Altihelpa," he said pointing over the very horizon. The lake spanned a
good 120 miles at it's longest point. "From there we walk to the ruins
of Tiahuanaco, our final destination. We should reach it by nightfall."
They started down the last spurs of the mountains and onto the
altiplano at a brisk pace. By ten o'clock they were aboard a rusty
ferry boat that made runs from the Bolivian side of the lake to
Altihelpa and Puno. It would reverse itself the next day. They drew a
few stares from the other passengers, but otherwise had an uneventful
trip. The lake was cold and clear and a very deep blue, meaning that
the water was also very very deep.
They took their lunch in a cantina in Altihelpa and then started
off on the final leg of their trip. Ryoga was glad it was almost over.
At least then he could find out what the big deal was with Minhiriath's
dream. His companion was slow to talk about it after the first mention.
As expected, they were out of daylight before they reached the
ruins of Tiahuanaco. They were greeted by two men in grey cloaks who
carried seven foot poles that glowed with a pale blue light. They spoke
to Minhiriath in a strange and beautiful tongue, and he answered them
in kind. They made no concern over Ryoga as they led the two into the
ruins.
They passed through a great stone archway which Minhiriath told
him was the Gateway to the Sun, and which faced the sunrise on the June
solstice. It featured a carving of Wiraqocha that was fairly well
preserved and showed him to be a stylized androgynene. According to
Minhiriath, the Andean peoples long believed they sprang from such
androgynous peoples as created by Wiraqocha in the moment of the
universe's genesis.
Ryoga and Minhiriath were led to a large gathering of brightly
colored tents and pavilions that glowed with many different lights.
None of these lights seemed to be something burning, for they were
steady in the breeze and gave off no heat. He assumed they were some
sort of magic, and that the whole idea seemed to make sense considering
his present company.
Ryoga was bade to make himself comfortable in one of the pavilions
while Minhiriath was taken elsewhere. Several rather pretty young
ladies with a native look to them attended to him, taking his wet and
dirty coat and providing food and drink for him. He blushed hotly at
all of their attentions, which only encouraged them further. Before
they could get him to do anything more, shall we say _fun,_ he
remembered how tired he was and promptly fell asleep. The ladies sighed
in disappointment and found a blanket to keep him warm against the
evening chill.

Chapter Four

Ranma, Akane and the others found several large Mercedes sedans
waiting for them at the airport in La Paz. Anazali spoke with the
leader of the detachment sent to fetch them, a tall and older gentleman
with oddly gold-colored eyes but nothing else that might distinguish
him as one of the Maia. They got into the cars while Ferguson and Katy
Price joined them in a truck with their sensory and research gear.
It was an all day drive across some very bad roads once they left
the Transamerican Highway. They were all too happy to get out of the
cars when they arrived around dusk in a large clearing of grass and
trees that grew in defiance of the arid altiplano that surrounded much
of the lake. The cars drove off, and a group of men with horses and
llamas approached.
"What's going on, Anazali? I thought we were going to some
island?" Ranma asked.
"Tomorrow we shall. That is when the Conclave formally begins. For
now, we shall live in the camp within Tiahuanaco."
The Professor's eyes lit up. "<Ah, splendid! I had hoped that was
where we were going. I've always wanted to visit the ruins of
Tiahuanaco! My studies never centered on the Andean peoples enough to
justify it before.>" He puffed on his pipe happily.
"<Ruins?>" Nabiki asked. That didn't sound like very comfortable
surroundings. She had the sinking feeling room service wasn't going to
be available.
"Fear not, Nabiki!" Anazali said to her with a laugh. "I'm sure
you'll find the hospitality of my family most satisfying."
The men on the horses stopped at the edge of the clearing and
raised their hands to them. Anazali raised hers in reply. They greeted
her in the familiar yet alien tongue. With the glint of the dying
sunlight in the clear thin air, they could see the pearlescent glimmer
of their skin.
The tallest of the men dismounted and took Anazali up into a hug
that lifted her off her feet. She cried out happily and kissed him. He
set her down, and she turned back to the party.
"This is my brother, Urthel. He will be our guide to the camp, and
our host during our stay."
Urthel bowed for them. Then his eyes fell upon Ranma and Akane.
"These are the two, fair sister?" He asked her for all to
understand.
"They are," Anazali replied.
"Then they shall be well looked after in my camp." He looked the
rest of them over; Hiro, Nabiki with her birds, Kuno at her side,
Ferguson, Katy, Clay, Professor McFogg, and Doctor Casimir. "You shall
all be well looked after. If there is anything you require, do not
hesitate to ask."
They were to ride the horses to the ruins while the llamas ported
their baggage and the equipment. Ranma got up into the saddle like a
natural, although he had never ridden a horse in his life. He'd been
carried on one, but this was a little different. He offered a hand to
Akane, who looked up at him dubiously.
"Don't get too carried away with yourself, Wild Horse," she said
to him mockingly.
"I ain't gonna get us killed," he retorted. "Come on."
She reluctantly took his hand and he pulled her up onto the horse.
She set her arms around his waist as the others mounted and made ready
to leave.
"I hope you know what you're doing," she said quietly.
"Trust me."
"That's what I'm afraid of," she retorted. "I think I trust you
too much now."
"Do you _want_ me to get us thrown?"
"Of course not!"
"Then be quiet and hang on."
He nudged the horse gently in the ribs. The animal neighed and
lurched into a mild gallop to catch up to the others. Akane shrieked in
surprise, which was right in Ranma's ear as she leaned against him. Her
arms nearly squeezed the stuffing out of him as she held on for dear
life.
"You're crushing me Akane," he gasped.
She let up, but only a little.
"Serves you right you jerk!" She cried merrily in response. The
surprise over, she got into the rhythm of the horse's gallop and rode
easily though the quickening wind with Ranma in her arms.
As the last of the sun went over the mountains, Urthel and his
companions conjured soft blue-white lights on their staves to
illuminate the way. They rode for eight miles before reaching the light
of the ruins of Tiahuanaco.
They cantered through the Gate of the Sun. Three men armed with
long spears that flashed with a spectral white flame guarded the gate.
Urthel identified himself, and their party was allowed to pass. The
security was not lost on Ranma.
"What's the big deal?" He asked Akane.
"I have no idea," she replied. "Maybe they're afraid that guy
Palandir will try to come here."
Ranma remembered well the man in the cloak who had nearly blasted
them into bits on a Parisian street. If not for Fyodor's goon squad
shooting him, Palandir would have succeeded. Anazali insisted that such
a wound could be healed by the likes of Palandir in a short period of
time, and that he would be out looking for them again soon.
"I wish Aerandir were here," Nabiki said as Kuno brought their
horse alongside them to catch the tail end of Akane's reply. The
songbirds chirped in the affirmative. "At least he held that guy off
for awhile."
Hiro rode solo on his horse; an H&K G-3 rifle slung over his back.
"Well we already know according to Anazali that these guys aren't
bullet proof. I think we were all just too scared of him at first to
bother shooting him."
No one had an answer for this. It was an event that everyone hoped
wouldn't come again. Hiro spurred his horse on ahead of them. He was
planning on seeing Palandir again. And hopefully Fyodor, too. He had a
little something for both of them.
They stopped the horses and dismounted at the perimeter of the
camp. The animals were led to a ruined building with no roof and fed.
Ferguson, Clay, Katy, and Hiro looked after the equipment and the
baggage as the others were led to a largest pavilion in the camp.
Ranma and Akane had to wonder at all the Maia present. There had
to be at least a hundred of them, all with faintly glimmering skin and
odd colored eyes and speaking in that alien tongue. Many more had some
trace or other of Maia heritage, while others appeared to be servants
or retainers or at least children without any obvious signs of their
ancestry. They nodded respectfully for Ranma and Akane as they passed,
indicating that they knew who they were.
Urthel and Anazali presented Ranma, Akane, Nabiki, Kuno, the
Professor and Doctor Casimir before a tall man with a flaming red beard
and long locks of red brown hair streaked with silver. He had piercing
golden eyes that seemed to bore right through them. If not for his
kindly smile he would have been quite intimidating. He radiated
antiquity.
The man rose from his carved wooden chair made of amaranth and
raised his hand in greeting.
"Welcome to my house, such as it is," he said with a kindly
chuckle. "I am known by many names, but you may call me Nimatar."
Anazali presented each guest individually before him, she saved
Ranma and Akane for last. Nimatar greeted each one warmly and placed
his hand upon their brow. His touch was warm and made them tingle.
"This is Ranma Saotome, and his fiancee Akane Tendo," Anazali
declared. "They are the ones our ancestors, your kin, have spoken to.
They are the Wayfinders."
Nimatar looked at each of them closely, piercing eyes once again
boring through them. He nodded solemnly then and motioned for them to
step forward that he could touch his hands to their brows. Ranma
hesitated, but a nudge from Akane got him moving.
He placed a gentle hand upon the both of them.
"I am honored to meet with any who have spoken to my people,
however indirectly. It is a sign of great worthiness and strength
within you that you be so distinguished."
He stepped back and sat down again. Chairs were brought for all of
them, and food and drink offered them. Nimatar talked with them as they
ate.
"Tomorrow at the Conclave we shall receive our last visit from our
kin before the Heart of the World," he told them. "There is much we
shall discuss amongst ourselves, but as you are also a part of this, we
shall hear your say gladly."
"I just have one question," Ranma asked. "I know that somehow
Akane and I are supposed to stop one of your own people from grabbing
this Heart of the World. Any chance you could explain to me how?"
Nimatar nodded at Ranma's concern.
"In order to capture the Heart of the World, a prism is required.
You have likely seen it in your visions."
"The pyramid," Akane said.
"Yes, it is shaped like a pyramid. The prism acts as a focal point
for both the energies of the Heart of the World and for the will
imposed upon it. The size of the pyramid isn't as important so much as
it is the purity of it's internal structure. It must be of flawless
crystal structure. Such material cannot be found in nature, it must be
constructed by the hand and mind of man."
Nimatar let them think about it for a minute.
Ranma's eyes lit up. "Hey yeah, I remember this voice in my head
telling me it was important to flaw the thing somehow. Shouldn't be a
problem, I mean you just gotta come up and smash the thing to bits."
Kuno and Hiro nodded in agreement.
"That might be more difficult than it seems young Ranma," Nimatar
replied. "We are informed by Sil Amarn through Anazali that the prism
to be used survived a previous attempt 88 years ago."
He sipped at a cup of wine. "You see my friend Sarophan in his
misguided wisdom has decided that the Heart of the World's energies are
the only thing that will save the Earth from the ecological disasters
of overpopulation and pollution. To this end he spent centuries shaping
his prism until it was ready to be used. In the year 1908, in a
Siberian forest, the Heart of the World rose from the depths as it had
for cycles since the creation of the planet billions of years ago.
"We were resolved to stop him, and in the end one of our own
entered the vortex of energy and disrupted it. The backlash flattened
several thousand acres of forest and was heard for thousands of
leagues. Jubal was killed in the blast, and we had thought at first
that Sarophan and his followers had joined him. When we learned that he
had survived we at least hoped the prism had been destroyed.
"Our hopes have proven to be in vain. The prism survived according
to Sil Amarn, who has seen it only days ago. Sarophan can try again.
Even if we stop him a second time, if the prism isn't destroyed he can
just try again in 88 years. While you will likely have passed on from
this world into the next by then, your children and grandchildren and
so on will have that specter hanging over their heads. The prism must
be destroyed this time."
He looked directly at Ranma and Akane.
"You are the ones who will destroy it," he told them. "My kin
within the Heart of the World have chosen you. I cannot guess why they
chose you over others in this world with similar strength of heart and
will, but that is not for me to judge. Because they have chosen you,
they have also been shaping you as it were through the energies of what
you call 'events'. You will be able to walk unharmed into the energy of
the Heart of the World where Jubal could not at the price of his life.
"I am not a warrior," he said to them intently. "I have never
fought with fists or feet, nor have I raised up sword and spear against
my enemies in all of my twelve thousand years on this Earth. I do not
have such experience as to tell you what you must do when you reach the
prism. You are both fighters, and I trust to your instincts that you
will know what to do when the time comes. Perhaps tomorrow when my kin
speak to us they will tell you."
Ranma sank back in his chair. He wanted some answers and he was
tired of not getting any. If anything, Nimatar had only raised more
questions within him. Possibly even a doubt or two.
"We should speak no more of this for now," Nimatar declared.
"There will be time and cause enough for it tomorrow. Let us instead
discuss all that has transpired to bring all of you here to this
place."
They talked with Nimatar and with his aides for some time. After
several hours he could see that his guests were weary and dispatched
servants to take them to private lodgings. Ranma and Akane gratefully
accepted the spacious and tall canvas tent dyed a bright blue and
glowing with soft magical light from within. There was a comfortable
down sleeping mat within, and lots of soft blankets to ward off the
cold. Several chairs and a low table were in the front of the tent,
with the sleeping area segregated by two heavy flaps that could be tied
off to the walls of the tent when not in use.
Nabiki and Katy Price found that they were tent mates and to
Hiro's chagrin he found that he had Tatewaki Kuno. Ferguson was paired
with Clay, and McFogg and Casimir could be heard threatening the other
about snoring.
Ranma pulled the flaps down over the tent and secured them. Akane
began to undress. He watched her and she winked at him when she caught
him stealing a look.
They had been making love every night since that first day, and
the thought on both of their minds was whether or not they could be
discreet enough tonight within the tent and having the others so close
by. Ranma certainly hoped so. It was Akane that tended to get carried
away.
It must have been woman's intuition, or maybe Akane had developed
telepathy, because she suddenly gave him a sour look when he thought
it. Perhaps it was the look on his face when he thought back to those
few passionate joinings they had shared. He waffled his hands in
protest for her look. Instead of hitting him or giving him another sour
look, Akane settled onto the sleeping mat and patted the spot next to
her.
Ranma shrugged and began to undress.
**Oh well, can't stop a guy from trying.**
He slipped under the blankets next to her.
"It's going to be a cold night," Akane whispered to him. "Good
thing I've got you to keep me warm!"
"I was thinkin' the same thing," he grinned. He began to move
close to her.
They kissed slowly, tenderly, more full of love than any real
passion. She put her arms around him and drew him close to her. Hiro
and Kuno began arguing about who got which mat.
That killed the mood right there.
"Maybe we should wait until everyone's asleep," Akane suggested in
a slightly frustrated voice.
Ranma agreed, although he had the funny feeling these people
didn't sleep very much. Nabiki had remarked that she had never seen
Aerandir asleep, and in the four days Anazali had spent with them in
the Professor's mansion, he had never known her to sleep either. She'd
caught the two of them raiding the kitchen at three in the morning
after a few rounds of Anything-Goes-Style wrestling between the sheets.
She had given them a sly grin and returned to what she was doing.
Whatever it was, it wasn't sleeping.
As if to prove his point a song broke out from a row of pavilions
across from them. Music began to play; pipes, flutes, harps, and other
instruments whose identities he could only guess at picked up the tune
as more and more voices joined in. Laughter followed each verse; the
song was obviously supposed to be funny, or maybe they were just
enjoying themselves. In spite of himself he found that he wished he
could understand what they were saying. Their trick of speaking their
own tongue and being understood by all only applied if they were paying
attention to you.
"Akane, I don't think they're going to go to sleep," he observed.
His fingers traced little figure-eights on her back and down her spine.
Akane kissed him on the tip of his nose. "Okay. Maybe we should
take a little walk." Then in a husky voice that thrilled him to no end,
"perhaps we could find a place a little more private."
He was all for that idea, cold night at 4000 meters or not. He
gathered up the blankets under his arm after they dressed enough to go
walking around at night. He threw a red sable-lined cloak the Professor
had given to him over his shoulders and then draped it over Akane as
she snuggled close to his side.
They stepped out of the tent. More of those soft magical lights
glowed on poles along the little paths laid out between the tents and
canopies and pavilions. Several Maiar passed them with silver cups of
wine in hand and bright swords at their sides, and greeted them
merrily. They offered helpful suggestions when they noticed the
blankets Ranma carried under the cloak. Both of them blushed and
offered thanks.
They passed one particularly rowdy tent and had to endure a toast
of sweet red wine and a song when they were discovered passing by.
Ranma mumbled something about just hanging a sign around their necks
declaring that they were trying to find a place to be alone and
wouldn't you just please let us do that. Akane laughed at this because
embarrassing or not, it was kind of neat to be the center of such
attention from such a magnificent people as the Maiar.
The delay was just enough to keep Ryoga Hibiki from running into
them on the path. He was lost (no surprise there) and a little drunk.
Not that he intended to be in either state. Getting lost was something
out of his control, but the people singing and dancing around him were
just too merry to refuse when they pushed a cup of wine in front of
him. Every time he stopped to ask someone for directions to
Minhiriath's tent, he got a little drunker, and consequently more lost.
When they at last escaped their mirthful serenaders, Ryoga had
stumbled on around a tent. Taking care not to get caught again, (and
failing a few times with the standard punishment of wine and song
following), they at last escaped the camp and wandered into the cold
and dark ruins of Tiahuanaco. They passed two men with long spears who
were not obvious Maiar and were in fact sentries. The sentries bid them
goodnight and directed them to a suitable place with laughs and lots of
well wishing.
**The cheer of this place was just too infectious when sober
guards on a cold and windy night were laughing and carrying on,** Ranma
thought as Akane snuggled closer than before beneath the cloak. **Then
again didn't one of them say this was the first time so many of them
had all come together in two hundred years? I guess that would be
something to celebrate.**
They picked their way along the rubble strewn street that had long
since become overgrown with grass and weeds. The half moon was out,
giving them light to walk by, but even then the stars were huge and
bright above them. The air was so thin and they were so high above the
level of the sea that the Milky Way was glowing with enough light that
they could likely see without the moon.
They found the place the sentries had mentioned, a low structure
that was well insulated against the wind, and had a marvelous carpet of
grass and a gorgeous view of the stars with the hill that made up one
wall blocking out the moon that was low in the sky. Ranma set the
blankets down and spread them out for them. Akane settled beneath them
and stared up at the stars. Ranma joined her a moment later, after
making sure the sentries weren't close by spying on them.
"Are you worried, Ranma?" Akane asked him after a little while of
watching the stars together.
Ranma thought about how he should respond.
"You can tell me when you're worried you know," Akane added.
"It ain't that," he said quietly. "And yeah I am a little worried.
Maybe if I knew a bit more about what we were supposed to do, I
wouldn't be."
"We're going to do it, aren't we?" She asked. "At least try
anyway."
"We gotta. If we don't, well you heard what Nimatar said. It might
not mean a hill of beans to us and then again it might. If this guy
Sarophan does what he's trying to do they say he might hold on for a
few centuries before losing it. It might only be a few hours, too. No
one knows for sure. It's not the kind of chance I'm willing to take
with my life."
He turned to face her.
"And it damn sure ain't the kind of chance I'd take with yours."
He squeezed her hand beneath the blanket. "But if we gotta take our
chances, I want to do it fighting; not sitting at home worrying about
the end of the world and if we'll get any kind of future between you
and me."
"We'll have to fight together," Akane declared. "I just know it."
She looked at him with concern on her face. "Does that bother you?"
"A month ago it would have," he said then. "I wouldn't have wanted
you anywhere near the kind of fight I know is coming... Now... I hate
to say it, but we do work pretty well together. When we want to
anyway."
He squeezed her hand again. "Am I still gonna worry about you in
the middle of the fight? Yeah, a little... I think we should spend what
little time we have left practicing together. I mean really training,
not just jogging and working out. Training to fight as one; that way I
don't have to wonder what you're doing when I can't see you. I'll just
know it. I won't worry so much about you then, and I'll be able to keep
all of my focus on the battle."
Akane leaned over and kissed him.
"Tonight I want to keep all of my focus on _you,_" she whispered.
She kissed him again before he could say anything.

The sounds of music and singing could be heard in the distant
camp. The sentries made their rounds, giving the ruined building a wide
berth and offering salutes with their spears. Ranma and Akane were too
focused on each other to notice any of it.

Chapter Five

The Island of the Sun, once known by the name that the lake now
held, was the site of an Inca temple, now in ruins. The shrine to
Wiraqocha was an exquisite fake; the astute Incas' attempt to write
themselves into the Andean creation myth in an era when the city of
Tiahuanaco had been in ruins for 400 years. Despite the bogus temple,
there was a sound reason for the Maiar choosing the Island of the Sun
for their Conclave.
This was for the simple fact that a Maia who would be known as
Wiraqocha to the Andean peoples had chosen that site as his home. He
had invested much of his energy into shaping that place, and if such
work was not visible to the eyes and ears of most men, it was to the
Maiar. The Island of the Sun sang to them of his ancient wisdom and
showed them his history of shaping the Andean people, though he had
long since left this world.
There were close to a hundred full Maia present, roughly
two-thirds of those left in the world. There were another two hundred
who had Maia blood within them and who had been able to tame the
energies that traversed the planet enough to extend the span of their
lives. The only people on the island who were not of Maia heritage were
Ranma and Company, at Nimatar's express wishes.
They gathered under banners and standards of the various surviving
families. A few reached all the way back to the days before the
disaster, Nimatar's being chief among them. The ancient Maia was the
only other of his kind save for Sarophan who had set foot upon Maianar
in the days before it was drowned by the sea. The rest came later, the
last of a people that were taking millennia to die.
The Conclave was being held in a natural bowl of low hills on the
island near the ruined shrine. Ranma and Akane and the others were
shown to a place of honor close to the open center of the bowl. Their
place was close to Nimatar's banner, although technically they were the
guests of Urthel.
The Professor, Doctor Casimir, and Mister Clay had spent much of
the night talking history and other such matters with Nimatar and some
of the other elder Maiar. They looked a little worn out, even Clay, who
was considerably younger than the two elderly scholars. Apparently wine
was required for any thoughtful discussion with a Maia.
Kuno sat quietly next to Nabiki, maintaining his meditative state.
They hadn't spoken much to each other, but instead enjoyed a
comfortable silence. Nabiki's songbirds did most of the talking.
Nabiki for her part found that she could almost guess what they
were saying, and of course they seemed to understand every word she
said. She suspected that whatever Sarophan had done to extend their
lifespans, he had also given them the talents to read people's
emotions, if not their thoughts to some extent. Innael, Birathiel, and
Gliredhel had been great comforts to her considering her present
confusion regarding Tatewaki Kuno. She was fond of him, she had to
admit it, but she had no idea if it was worth the effort of going
anywhere with her feelings. Anytime she got close to him he just clung
that much tighter to the hopeless romance of his Pig-Tailed Girl. Her
songbirds hadn't been much help for advice, but they always tried to
make her feel better.
She looked over at Ranma and Akane, who were sitting between
herself and Hiro. For a moment she considered dumping cold water on
Ranma in front of Kuno just to show once and for all that his
Pig-Tailed Girl fantasies were just that; fantasies. She thought better
of it upon further reflection. She'd changed Ranma in his very arms and
he had either been too dimwitted to figure it out, or some part of his
subconscious had shifted into emergency to block out reality.
If it was a case of him being too dimwitted, she could always help
him figure it out eventually. Ranma might object to the "Ukyo
Treatment" with the alternating hot and cold water, but what the heck?
The problem was if it was the second case. If it was, there was truly
no hope for him. Nabiki just didn't feel strongly enough for him to go
through the agony of breaking through his thick skull to make him see
the light.
The slow burn she was putting on him might work, but it was a
question of diminishing returns there. Was that sword swinging, poetry
spouting blockhead really worth the effort? That was the question she
kept asking herself of late.
She looked away from her reflection on Tatewaki Kuno and towards
the center of the gathering. She saw a familiar pair of sea-colored
eyes looking back at her. **Aerandir is here!**
"Aerandir!" She called to him, standing up and waving her hand.
The songbirds began to chirp, matching her excitement. The others
looked up and saw him.
"Nabiki!" Aerandir returned. "Why am I not surprised to find your
fair presence amongst this gathering?"
He strode across the open space between the circle of Maiar and
headed straight towards her. He placed his hands on her shoulders and
kissed her brow, then bowed for her as she blushed.
"Your servant," he declared.
"I was wondering if we were going to see you again," she said to
him.
"Did I not say we would meet again? I had an idea that Ranma and
Akane would not be the only ones invited to this Conclave." At this he
bowed his head for the two as they sat on the grass and watched him.
Anazali stepped up then and kissed his cheek, which he returned.
"It is good to see you here, Sil Amarn," she told him.
"I have made my bunk," Aerandir said in reply. "And now I must
sleep in it."
"That eases my heart Sil Amarn," Urthel declared from behind
Ranma, Akane, and Hiro. "I for one did not look forward to facing you
across the point of a spear, had you sided with your uncle."
Aerandir's appearance had created quite a stir amongst the Maiar.
Conversations stopped as one by one the little families and cliques
began paying attention to one of the oldest of their race. Aerandir was
in fact junior only to Sarophan and Nimatar, and to his brother
Palandir by only ten years, a pittance considering his span.
"Have we already decided that there will be open war amongst us?"
Aerandir asked loud enough for all to hear. There were various
murmurings from the crowd. "There are so few of us left in this world,
and our work is far from done! You wish to spill rare blood so
readily?"
"Sarophan has pushed this upon himself!" Someone declared. They
were keeping their speech open for the sake of Ranma and the others.
"How many innocent lives will be snuffed out when he loses control
of the Heart of the World?" Another asked. "Better that we pay for our
folly with our own blood than spill any more of our cousins'!" At this
he gestured to the small group that was Ranma and company.
Aerandir retorted by gesturing to a woman nearby. Her skin glowed
with a silvery sheen, and she was very pregnant. He walked over to her
and humbly asked that she stand. The woman could not refuse a request
from Aerandir and did so. He pointed to the woman's belly.
"Not only do you seek to spill our rare blood, but you deny this
unborn child the chance to realize her potential. To become one of us!
You doom her to the span of but a handful of years with an open battle
in the Crown of Eternity!"
Akane's eyes flashed at the mention of that name. Hiro looked over
at her with an equally astonished look. He tugged at Anazali's sleeve
as she was watching the debate. She looked down at them with a puzzled
expression.
"What is it, Hiro?" She asked.
"What's the Crown of Eternity?"
"It's the place where the Heart of the World will rise," she
replied. "Why do you ask?"
"Because Ranma and I have heard that name before," Akane declared.
"In our visions during the events."
"What's Aerandir talking about?" Ranma thought to add. "What's
that pregnant lady got to do with it?"
Anazali sat down with them and ignored the discussion that was now
filling with new voices.
"The Crown of Eternity is a place where the Heart of the World has
risen many times before," she began. "I was born there a little over a
thousand years ago. The men among us would take their wives while they
were in the final stages of their pregnancies to the place where the
Heart of the World rose. They would have the baby there in the hopes
that exposure to the energies would help the child be like us instead
of just another human.
"You see it's exposure to the energies of the world that lengthen
our spans. Some of us can handle those forces and use them to heal our
wounds or to keep us young. Most of our children never learn how unless
they are exposed to great power at a young age, birth preferably. That
is why we are so few even though we don't age and rarely die. We just
don't bear enough new Maia children into the world. The attrition is
greater than we can make up for. What Aerandir is saying is that we
would not only destroy ourselves but our dim hopes at a future as
well."
"If you don't age and rarely die, then why can't you keep up?"
Hiro asked. "Do you have problems getting pregnant?"
"Somewhat," Anazali admitted. "We try to establish our chances at
conception for times when the Heart of the World will rise, but the
very energies we use to sustain ourselves can be disruptive to our
reproductive cycles.
"And just because we don't age doesn't mean we have the endurance
for immortality," Anazali went on. "Many of us cannot go on for
millennia or even centuries devoting their lives to helping you people
help yourselves. You have disappointed us many times in history, times
when even I have considered ending my life because it all seemed so
futile. I had just enough strength, desire, and hope to continue on,
many of my people do not. They commit suicide or just pine away when
they don't even have the strength to end themselves quickly. The ones
that give up are lost to us, even if they don't die right away."
"So where _is_ the Crown of Eternity?" Ranma asked.
"A vast ring of rock formed by two mountains on an island in
Antarctica."
"What?!" Ranma, Hiro, and Akane cried in unison. "Antarctica?!"
"I believe it's called Ross Island these days. The mountains were
given the unflattering names of Mt. Erebus and Mt. Terror. Our names
are much more appropriate."
"We're gonna freeze to death!" Hiro cried. "It's the dead of
winter down there."
"Oh no, it will be quite comfortable, I can assure you." Anazali
replied calmly.
She turned her attentions back towards the debate. Minhiriath had
the floor, and she enjoyed listening to the old astronomer speak. He
stepped out into the circle, as Aerandir stepped to the side and to
Urthel and Nimatar's groups. Minhiriath was wearing faded jeans and his
soft knee high boots, and proudly wore his Grateful Dead T-shirt. It
seemed hard to believe that the golden- skinned man received the
attention and respect that he did.
"I can understand the impetuousness of our younger kin," he began.
"Most of those gathered here are not old enough to have ever seen the
Herald of the Nazarene in the sky, and for them our tales of the old
world are as fantastic as they would be to any who were not of our
blood."
Aerandir stood silently, letting the astronomer continue. His
silence was keeping the others silent as well. At least for the moment.
He hadn't said anything particularly inflammatory yet.
"But I cannot as one of the elders among us allow such open
bloodshed. I stand with Aerandir in this regard. We have our means of
staying Sarophan's hand, and it is not by force of arms." He pointed to
Ranma and Akane.
"What will stop him from slaying the Wayfinders if we do not
fight?" came the retort.
"I never said anything about not preparing for battle," Minhiriath
rebuked. "But I must agree with Aerandir that we must not predispose
ourselves to battle before we even leave this island. We must make one
final appeal to Sarophan. At least let the thought of negotiating into
your hearts!"
"Negotiate?"
This cry was echoed incredulously several times, creating quite a
rumble of discord. Finally Nimatar rose from his chair and silenced
them with a raised hand. He returned the debate to Minhiriath with a
nod.
"Yes, negotiate!" He cried. "Ask him to wait for one more cycle,
perhaps two. Think of all that we can achieve in that time! Our cousins
are finally starting to act their age. Perhaps within that time they
can, with our continuing and discrete support, ease the world's burdens
so that Sarophan will not think it necessary to seize the Heart of the
World to set things right."
He turned in a circle to look at all of them.
"For as much as he has been demonized by this circle, he is still
a good man at heart. His intentions are to help this world restore
itself and to ease the burdens of it's children. I am but half the span
of Aerandir, and a third that of Nimatar and Sarophan, and so I cannot
truly know the weight of so many years upon my soul. Perhaps he has
become too weary to continue at such a pace, that he seeks a quick end
to our struggle."
"He shall have it if he does what he sets out to do!" A
particularly militant Maia yelled.
"Elentirmo speaks the truth," Nimatar said then, gesturing to
Minhiriath, who was also known as Elentirmo for his chosen profession.
"Sarophan has been unjustly demonized by those present. I have known
the man for years beyond number, and have walked with him along the
very tree-lined avenues of Eldalonde ere it was drowned. We should not
be too hasty to draw sword or set spear."
The debate continued on as to how much of an offensive footing
they should present at the Crown of Eternity. It was lost upon Nabiki
and the scientists, but Ranma, Hiro, Kuno, and even Akane were of a
martial nature, and understood the need to know what the strategy was
going to be. They listened intently, hoping a direct confrontation
could be avoided. The chance that Sarophan might even negotiate left
them the hope that fighting wouldn't be necessary at all.
Akane said as much, but when Hiro and Ranma snorted in reply her
heart fell. Whatever their hopes, both of them were planning to fight.
Kuno as well, though he was keeping quiet about it.

Ryoga Hibiki had made his way to the island with the last group of
Maia. He hadn't seen Minhiriath since the previous night, and had
eventually fallen asleep in one of the tents belonging to another
group. They had fed him in the morning and took him with them to the
island. When Minhiriath started to speak, he made his way slowly and
politely down the slope of the hill towards the center.
He didn't notice (or expect in a million years) for his friends to
be at the bottom of the slope, and so when he blithely stepped on
Kuno's hand, he was quite astonished.
Kuno looked up and barked, "watch thy step Hibiki, lest ye feel
the...." His words died in his throat as he saw Ryoga looking down at
him.
At the mention of Ryoga's surname, everyone else turned around to
look at him in surprise and wonder.
"Hey Hibiki!" Hiro cried. "Man did _you_ ever get lost!"
Ranma actually looked pleased to see him. "Ryoga! How's it going?
Are you with someone or, as crazy as this sounds, _did you actually get
lost and wander here?_"
Nabiki tousled his hair fondly. "Looking good, Ryoga. I'm not
going to be so crass as the others and suggest you got lost or
something." The songbirds twittered laughter.
Akane gave him a hug, which made him turn beet red. "I'm glad to
see you Ryoga!" She cried. He got weak in the knees.
"Sit down before you fall down," Ranma advised him. "Man, how the
_hell_ did you get here?"
Ryoga blushed at the memories of it. He scratched his head and
smiled weakly. "Eh, it's ah, it's a long story..."
"I can imagine," Nabiki said dryly.
"I gotta hear this one," Hiro added. "Last time I saw you it was
the middle of the winter outside of Nagasaki. What happened?"
Ryoga continued to blush.
"Oh leave him alone," Akane scolded. "He'll tell us when he's
ready."
"Have a seat," Hiro offered. "Seems we have a regular 3rd Platoon
reunion going on here, eh Saotome?"
Ranma nodded. They had Kuno, Hiro, himself, and now Ryoga. All
they were missing was Gosunkugi, although he wouldn't be quite as happy
to see Gosunkugi as was Ryoga. Hopefully the guy still remembered that
he was his friend.
**As long as he doesn't blame me for whatever misfortunes got him
so lost he ended up across the Pacific ocean, everything should be
okay.**
Ryoga sat down next to Hiro with a confused but also very happy
grin.
The debate continued on for some time. Many of the assembled Maiar
wanted to bring all of their fighters along to project strength to
Sarophan. Nominally this was to help convince him to negotiate
peacefully, perhaps even convince him to abandon his dangerous
ambitions. Others felt that bringing so many fighters was just
provoking a battle from the start.
All parties of thought wanted to allow those who were to bear
children within the Crown of Eternity the chance to do so without
interruption. There were three such pregnancies within Nimatar's camp,
and no one was certain among those loyal to Sarophan, though at least
one was a safe bet. That would be their one chance to avoid to fight,
assuming that Sarophan was of a similar mind to allow the expectant
parents their chance for their childrens' Maia inheiritance. Hopefully
he would, such an event was sacred to the Maiar.
As the noonday sun rose in the sky the wind began to pick up. The
assembled Maiar began to sniff and taste at the air. The few children
present began to giggle and laugh. Ranma and Akane felt a very familiar
tingle in their spines and on the tips of their tongues.
Aerandir laughed good naturedly.
"Ah! I was wondering when this would happen. Perhaps our ancestors
can dispell some of the doubt and dissention within our ranks."
Anazali and Urthel agreed. Nabiki's songbirds began to chirp in
expectation.
Minhiriath joined Ryoga and smiled.
"Answers will be forthcoming Ryoga my boy."
Ferguson looked to his white sensor boxes, which Nimatar had
allowed to be set up to record the event data. Other sensors began
whirring and he had his hands full trying to monitor them all, even
with the help of Katy and Clay. He wished for the days of big trailers
and dozens of assistants. On the other hand, he'd seen and done more in
two weeks without them than he had in the past two years.
"<This is bloody well fantastic!>" He exclaimed to nobody in
particular.
Ranma and Akane stood up, hand in hand. The rest of the Maiar
began watch them as they walked to the center of the circle. The wind
gusted more, what was once cold and bitter was now warm and sweet
smelling.
Ryoga watched them go. He looked to Hiro.
"What's going on? What are Akane and Ranma doing?"
Hiro crossed his eyes at that one. "Long story, but I'll sum up.
Somehow these two got picked by a bunch of spirits from some ancient
civilization that was destroyed in some flood. -You know, lost
continent of Atlantis and all of that. Anyways they got picked to stop
this other survivor named Sarophan who's planning on harnessing this
energy source that's gonna end causing the same disaster all over
again. These events are how the ghosts talk to them."
Ryoga affected his best baffled look.
"Hey, you asked," Hiro told him curtly.
Sparkles of light began to flash around the bowl. Maiar began to
join hands and sing. Anazali took Aerandir's hand, who took Nabiki's.
Nabiki snatched up Kuno's without a word, and the swordsman had the
presence of mind to take Hiro's. Hiro took Ryoga's hand, and in turn he
clasped Minhiriath's. So it went until all present were joined save for
Ranma and Akane in the center of the bowl.
The wind rushed a third time and began to swirl around them. The
flashes of light became brighter and larger. The voices of the Maiar
joined in song rose and rose until they could be heard over the wind.
Innael and her sisters knew the song well, and it seemed in that moment
that their voices and harmony were multiplied a thousand fold.
"Here goes," Ranma said to Akane. "Hopefully we gotta do this just
one more time after this one."
Akane nodded in reply.
The event rushed in from the lines and exploded at the junction
that the ancient Maia who was known to some as Wiraqocha had made with
his hand and heart. His own song joined those of his assembled kin from
across space and time. Golden light spilled from out of nowhere and
bathed all present in it's warming radiance.
Ranma and Akane were lifted off the ground, and spun slowly within
the whirlwind that was the very heart of the event.

The vision exploded into view before their eyes.
They were in the garden they had seen from the event in Spain.
Great black mountains circled the garden, towering high above them on
all sides. The sky was dark and they watched storm clouds gathering
above them.
The stone lions appeared in front of them. Water spilled from
their mouths as it had before. This time wherever the water fell
flowers sprang up in hundreds of colors and varieties. The lions walked
towards the center of the garden, and Ranma and Akane followed hand in
hand.
At the center of the garden stood Ukyo. She was clad in her
okonomiyaki chef's clothes. She held her battle spatula in an en guarde
stance. She was standing before the prism, the white pyramid they had
seen in previous visions. It was but four feet tall and sat upon a base
of black basalt. The lions stood around the prism and wept from their
eyes as well as their mouths.
Ranma reached out to Ukyo, to pull her away from the prism. She
responded by swatting him savagely with her spatula. Ranma was knocked
twenty feet back. He rolled to his feet a little stunned, not just by
the force of the blow but by the fact that Ukyo had struck him.
"Ucchan!" He called to her.
He got back to his feet and started towards her again.
"Be careful Ranma!" Akane told him. "Something's wrong with her!"
"You ain't kidding," Ranma grunted. "That wasn't Ukyo's usual love
tap. She hit me full force."
He came with arm's reach and stopped. Ukyo eyed him warily,
keeping her battle spatula pulled back to swing.
"Ucchan, it's me, Ranchan," he said softly to her. "I'm you're
friend, remember?"
He offered her his hand.
"Come on," he said. "Let's get out of here, huh?"
He reached for her, and she clobbered him again. He had never seen
her move so fast. The first blow came down squarely on top of his head,
buckling his knees and making him bite his tongue. The second and third
blows landed on either side of his head, boxing his ears and dropping
him to the ground. She deftly scooped him up before he could lie prone
at her feet and threw him a good thirty feet.
"Ranma!" Akane cried. "Ukyo, why? You're our friend!"
^Look again, Akane.^ The lions told her.
She looked back to Ukyo. A strange aura glowed around her. It
looked like an older man with a beard and silver eyes. She had never
seen the man before, but knew him to be Sarophan.
Ranma was just coming to his senses. He spat out blood from his
tongue and looked sternly to Ukyo.
"I thought you and I were friends... I didn't want to do this,
since I don't fight girls, but you aren't giving me much choice! I
tried to be nice!"
^Look again, Ranma.^
He stopped in midcharge and looked closely at Ukyo. He saw the
aura of Sarophan around her. He grit his teeth and cast a hard glance
to the lions.
"So what are we supposed to do? Fight this guy Sarophan if we want
to save Ukyo?"
The stone lions were silent.
"I thought you were supposed to be helping us! You got Akane and
me doing your dirty work for you, howzabout a little goddamn help
here!"
^Look to yourselves within yourselves.^
"What?" Ranma spluttered.
Akane understood.
"Ranma! Take my hand!"
"What?"
"You said it yourself, dummy! There is a part of each of us inside
the other! We aren't strong enough unless we can use all of ourselves
at once. We can't do that without each other!"
_Now_ Ranma got it.
He took hold of Akane's hand. Power flowed through them. More
power than they had ever felt in their lives. The image of Sarophan
faded from Ukyo, who smiled for them as she lowered her spatula and
faded from sight as well.

The world exploded back into view around them. The winds lowered
them gently to the ground as the last of the light sparkled away. The
Maiar were still singing, their voices lowered reverently as the last
of the energy trickled away.
The two settled down upon the grass and held onto each other.
Hiro, Nabiki, Kuno and Ryoga came up to them. Aerandir and the other
Maia finished their song. Their ancestors had spoken to them, and they
knew the proper course of action to take.
"Are you two okay?" Hiro asked.
"Yeah," Ranma replied. "We're all right."
"What did you see?" Nabiki asked. "It must have shook you up
pretty bad. You both look as pale as ghosts."
"We saw Ukyo," Ranma said.
"She was fighting us to keep us away from the prism," Akane added.
"We couldn't get her to stop."
Nabiki looked as if she had been struck. She had feared this since
Paris. She had hoped that it would never happen. Reality seemed to be
offering a different venue.
"Ukyo?" She cried.
"I'm sorry Nabiki," Akane said. "I know how much she means to you.
She's our friend too."
Hiro moved to place a reassuring hand on Nabiki's shoulder, only
to have Tatewaki Kuno's hand get there first. The swordsman gave her
shoulder an affectionate squeeze. The songbirds chirped and twittered
in an attempt to cheer her up.
Nabiki looked absolutely devastated.
"It's my fault," she said sadly. "I shouldn't have left her there
with Sarophan."
Aerandir came up behind them. "No Nabiki, if there was ever blame
it should be laid before my feet. I should have asked her to join us."
"Who cares about blame?" Ranma cried. "It doesn't matter now! What
matters is doing whatever it takes to get this guy Sarophan's meat
hooks out of her. I'll tear his damn heart out with my bare hands if I
have to, but no one does that to Ucchan!"
He looked up to the sky.
"You hear me Sarophan?!" He bellowed. "Nobody does this to Ucchan
and gets away with it! NOBODY!!!"

End of Part Nine

Author's Notes:

1) My presentations of Andean myth and culture are derived from the
marvelous book "The Secret of the Incas," by William Sullivan, Ph.D.,
and published by Crown Publishers. It's a fascinating look at how
ancient myths are encoded with astronomical clues to provide an
accurate timeline of events for a culture with no written language.

2) Wiraqocha is the name of the Andean peoples' creation god. In
keeping with the spirit of the Elohim from the Kharsag Epic (See my
note in Part Six) I have made Wiraqocha one of the surviving Maia from
the drowned continent. If you look close, the skills and morals
Wiraqocha taught the Andean peoples are uncannily similar to what the
Elohim taught the peoples of Mesopotamia. Makes you wonder just how
fictional the legends of Atlantis are, doesn't it?

3) For those of you who have never seen the Herald of the Nazarene, it
probably means that you aren't at least 2000 years old. You figure it
out.

4) Inspiration for the Ryoga beer scene with Minhiriath courtesy of
some homebrewed Fissionbrau Porter. There's nothing like drinking a
beer you made yourself.

5) Thanks always to those beautiful souls who provide C&C. Your voice
is heard and usually taken seriously. (Unless you're an Ukyo fan with
an axe to grind, right Sean? :P)

6) Tune in sometime before November 20th for the big finale of Chasing
the Wind. ('Cause if I don't get it done by then I turn into a
pumpkin!) I don't know how big it's gonna be, but I'm betting at least
30,000 words. (At least!)

7) As Jack Burton (Kurt Russell) said in the classic John Carpenter
flick "Big Trouble in Little China" : "Sonuvabitch must pay!"

Free the Nukes!