You have to believe we are magic;
Nothing can stand in our way.
You have to believe we are magic;
Don't let you aim ever stray.

And if all your hopes survive,
Your destiny will arrive
And bring all your dreams alive
For you.

I'll bring all your dreams alive
For you.


Magic

Part 3 - Arrivals and Departures

by Richard Lawson

Comments & Criticism Welcome!
sterman@sprynet.com



The airport was busy, with Nabiki watching with a stern eye as equipment of
all sorts was being loaded onto the plane.  Nouma stood with her, appraising
the aircraft.  "Who's going to be flying it?"

"No one."  Nabiki looked at her handheld computer, on which Nouma could see an 
impressive manifest.

Nouma shook his head.  Nabiki was pulling out all the stops.  A computer 
operated airplane was not cheap, and with the equipment on the plane, Ranma
could build a comfortable home with an impressive crime lab attached, if he
wanted to.  Plus live a year or more on the supplies.

Nabiki noticed his interest, and reached down to a box at her feet and pulled
out another handheld computer.  "Here.  We'll each have one.  They'll be
networked to a command console once we get it set up in Canada."

Nouma started up the computer and ran it through its paces.  It was very 
impressive.  Nouma would need to have spent a year's salary to afford one of
his own.  "What're we using, NNTI protocols?"

Nabiki shook her head.  "We'll be in the Rockies, and I also gave Akane a
unit so that she can see what's going on.  We'll need to use HSI to keep
everyone connected."

Nouma gaped at her.  "HSI?  How?"

Nabiki looked down at her computer, frowning at something it displayed.  "I've
tasked a satellite for our use.  It'll remain in a geosynchronous orbit more
or less directly above us in Canada."

Nouma managed to put his eyes back into his head.  "What's all this going to
cost you, Aunt Nabiki?"

Nabiki grimaced.  "About half of my personal net worth."  She sighed and looked
over at where Ranma and Akane were talking to each other.  "What's the use
of having money if you don't use it to try and help your family as much
as possible?"

Nouma shook his head, a smile on his face.  "Damn, we're lucky to have you,
Aunt Nabiki."

Nabiki turned to look up at him, a warm smile on her face.  "I know."

Nouma laughed.

"May I be told the joke?"  Kodachi walked up to them, smiling, an eyebrow 
raised.

Nouma grinned.  "Aunt Nabiki was just telling me how much she enjoys spending
money."

"Oh, I could have told you that."  Kodachi looked at her sister-in-law
affectionately.  "Why, just last week, she raised Tachi's allowance from a
hundred yen to a hundred and five yen, 'adjusting for inflation' as she 
called it."

Nabiki chuckled.  Nouma watched them, realizing that they'd become good 
friends during the fifteen or so years they'd been living together in the 
same mansion.  He wondered why he'd never noticed it before.

Nabiki looked over at the largest grouping of people.  "We'd better get our
good-byes said.  We need to be off."

Nouma drew a deep breath and walked slowly over to his mother.  He passed 
tearful conversations between Kikuko and her parents, Akari and her husband
and sons, and Ukyo and her daughters and husband.  He tried not to stare at 
Khu Lon as she said her formal good-byes to Shampoo and Mousse.  He saw 
Kodachi drift over to her husband and daughter, and Nabiki join Tachi in 
hugging Tatewaki.

The largest family group was centered around Akane.  Genma and Nodoka stood 
Soun behind Akane.  Ranma was giving her a somewhat passionate kiss.  Nouma
smiled; it warmed his heart and made him feel sad at the same time.  He 
averted his eyes to give them a measure of privacy.

They separated and Akane was now clutching Mikanma very tightly.  Nouma was
surprised to notice that Mikanma had tears streaming from her eyes.  He felt
his own chest tighten, as he saw his mother and Mikanma sharing love that 
usually remained hidden beneath the bickering that accompanied Mikanma's 
difficult adolescence.

Akane pulled back and looked into Mikanma's eyes.  They smiled at each other
as Akane whispered something.  Mikanma nodded and said, "Me too."

Akane turned to Nouma, and her bottom lip began to quiver as she threw herself
into his arms.  For once, Nouma didn't mind her bear hug.  He tried to burn
the feeling of her grip into his memory, wanting never to have to leave her
arms.

He patted her head as she sobbed into his chest.  "It'll be okay, Mother, 
you'll see.  The curse has never put Father into a situation he couldn't 
handle, and he'll have lots of help.  We'll come back."

Akane released her grip and looked up into Nouma's eyes.  "Watch over them
for me, Nouma.  You are the best equipped to deal with whatever's waiting for
you all out there.  Keep them from being rash, and from taking stupid risks."
She lowered her voice to almost a whisper, her emotion no less intense.  
"You're the best hope for getting everyone through this alive.  Bring them
home to me."

Nouma drew a shuddering breath.  His mother had just put a huge burden on his
shoulders, and he could not - would not - fail her.  He hoped.  "I'll do my
best, Mother."

Akane nodded.  "I know."  She grabbed his chin and gave it a little shake,
their secret signal that was her way of saying that she loved him.  He smiled
and bobbed his head rapidly, his response that said he loved her as well.

He stepped back, and Akane allowed her father to wrap his arms around her as 
she watched everyone enter the plane.

Nouma paused as he was about to step onboard, looking back at the group of
people huddled together on the tarmac.  He'd always been thankful for the
wonderful extended family he'd been a part of, so full of love and friendship
that a person couldn't help but blossom in its company.  The downside of that 
was how deeply he felt their fear and worry, and how much it pained him to 
think of how they might be hurt if one or more of the members of this 
expedition were to come to some harm.

Drawing strength one last time from the sight of those he was leaving behind,
Nouma entered the plane.

***

Once the plane had reached its cruising altitude, Nabiki went around and
distributed the rest of the hand-held computers.  She made sure everyone
understood how to operate some of the more obscure features, then set everyone
up on a temporary peer-to-peer network so that she could download some files
to them.

"This is the information on file with the Canadian Police.  I would suggest
spending the three and a half hours we'll be in the air studying those reports.
Feel free to ask me any questions on how to access any information you wish.
We're cut off from the outside world while in flight; once we land and 
establish our base, I'll link us up with the worldnet."

Nouma was sitting between his father and sister.  Ranma was flipping rapidly
through the information and paused on the autopsy reports.  Mikanma looked
very bored, and closed the police files to start up a game.

Nouma cleared his throat.  "Did, uh, anything unusual happen to either of you
last night?"

Mikanma, deep into her game, merely grunted and shook her head.  Ranma, on the
other hand, turned his head sharply and gave Nouma a searching look.  "What
happened, Son?"

Nouma thinned his lips.  "I, uh, heard a voice last night."

A beep on Mikanma's computer indicated that she had just lost a fight; she
growled and paused the game.  "You're just going nuts, Nouma.  It's what you
get for spending all that time with Aunt Kodachi."

"Mikanma."  Ranma's voice was quiet but deadly, and Mikanma flushed.  She
sometimes balked at things Akane said, but she would always listen to Ranma,
and took his criticisms very seriously.

She murmured an apology to Nouma.  Nouma fumed; what she had said about
Kodachi was almost unforgivable.  He understood that Mikanma truly meant no
harm - she just said the first thing that came to her mind.  She needed to
learn to control her mouth before it got her into serious trouble.

Nouma tried to set aside his anger.  "Okay, Mikanma, I accept.  Just don't
ever say anything like that again, okay?"

Mikanma nodded.  "Okay, Brother."  She looked at her computer and turned
off the game, a major concession for her.  "Tell us about the voice."

Something like relief came over Nouma; Mikanma showed occasional flashes of
maturity, and he was glad she had chosen this moment to display one.  He 
looked over at Ranma, who nodded.

Nouma let out a nervous breath and told them of the voice whispering to him
in the bedroom.  By the end of his short oration, Mikanma was staring at him
with her eyes wide, while Ranma was biting his lip thoughtfully.

"Nothing like that happened to me last night, Nouma.  It worries me."  Ranma
looked at him, and something like fear showed in his eyes.  "It reinforces
my feeling that whatever is about to happen will focus on you more than me."

"Why him?"  Mikanma sounded almost jealous.  "Why not you? Or me?"

Ranma shook his head.  "I can't say for certain.  Let me think about this.
We'll talk more in Canada."  Ranma looked into Nouma's eyes for a moment, then
turned his attention once more to his computer.

Mikanma growled.  "None of this makes any sense.  Why couldn't it be something
easy like an eight-headed monster?"

Nouma did his best not to let his amusement show on his face.  Mikanma was
completely serious; she preferred her challenges physical and tangible, where
she could fight them with her fists.

Nouma opened up the files Nabiki had sent to him, and began to read.

Ten people had died in the Canadian forests in northern British Columbia.  Six
had been hikers, making their way to a well-known if hard-to-reach camp spot
by a lake.  Four had been cultural anthropologists, examining paintings in
a cave not far from the lake.

Two of the anthropologists had been found just outside the cave, apparently
having dropped dead more or less in their tracks.  One was found in the nearby
forest, with every indication that he had been fleeing from something before
he died as well.

Three of the hikers had been killed four miles from their destination.  The
other three had apparently dropped their backpacks and run back through the
forest, evidently trying to reach the ranger's station fifteen miles away.
Why they hadn't tried to use their portable vids no one could figure out -
they were found in perfect working order.

Two had died after having run nearly three miles.  One had evidently been able
to elude death for quite a while - he was found dead less than two miles
away from the ranger's station.

The last of the cultural anthropologists was found inside the cave itself. Her
physical condition was appalling; it had appeared as if she'd run herself
beyond the point of exhaustion, destroying much of her body tissues in the
process.  It seemed a logical conclusion to draw that it was she who had
intercepted the hikers, and had chased them for miles before returning to the
cave.  There was no direct physical evidence to support such a theory, 
however.

The cause of death itself left the doctors performing the autopsy baffled.
There was no physical reason for the deaths.  They certainly showed signs of
trauma:  their faces were frozen in expressions of fear, and they had 
tremendous amounts of adrenaline in their blood.  Yet nothing pointed to a
cause of death.  It was as if their bodies had simply shut down.

Nouma tried to call up information about the paintings in the cave, and found
it to be decidedly skimpy.  He would have to wait until they were on the 
ground and a link to the worldnet could be established.

Nouma leaned back into his seat and tried to process the information.  The 
problem was, he wasn't sure what conclusion he was trying to draw.

Whispering voice.  Ancient paintings.  Death without apparent cause.  These
were related somehow.  He just had to find the pattern.

"Tendo Nouma."

The phrasing was so similar to the disembodied voice of the night before that
Nouma jumped in his seat.  Immediately, though, the more rational side of his
brain was noticing that this voice had a body attached to it.

Nouma tried to keep himself from thinking how attractive that body was.  
"Khu Lon?"

Her eyes flashed at him, and she seemed angry for no reason he could fathom.
"May I speak with you?"

Nouma marveled at how perfect her Japanese was, and once again chided himself
for overreacting to every thing he discovered about her.  Forcing his face to
be serene and respectful, he nodded.  "Of course."  He turned to Father.  "If
you will excuse me."

Ranma nodded, and Nouma saw on his face an expression very similar to the one
that had crossed Mousse's face back in the dojo.  

He left his seat and followed Khu Lon to the back of the plane.  She whirled
and spoke in a clipped voice.  "Before this goes any further, you should know
that I have absolutely no interest in any man who is not an Amazon.  For that
matter, I have very little interest in men in general."

Nouma blinked at her several times.  "I... was not aware of your sexual
orientation, Khu Lon."

"No!"  She seemed to be struggling for control; Nouma was pretty sure that if
they weren't in the confines of an airplane, she would have tried to hit him.
"You misunderstand me.  If I were to choose a spouse, that spouse would be
male.  It is simply that I have precious little use for men, and I certainly
don't need one clinging to me like a leech."

Nouma drew his eyebrows together, considering her words.  She certainly had a
unique view of marriage.  He wondered how she had come upon it; her parents
certainly seemed happy enough with each other.

Nonetheless, she had clearly stated her position, and he had to respect that.
"I apologize for my behavior.  I truly could not control myself; you inspired
passions in me that I did not know existed.  They caused me to act in a manner
which made you uncomfortable, and I regret that."  As if to prove the point
he was trying to make, other words came stumbling out of his mouth before he
could stop them.  "It was only my desire to learn as much about you as I could,
for each discovery about you so far has made my heart soar."

He clamped his mouth shut.  He could have gone on for long minutes, throwing
in a sonnet or two he had learned from Uncle Tatewaki.  He was mortified,
however, that he had let that much slip, especially after she had asked him
not to.  He felt his face turning red, which embarrassed him even more.  He
was acting like a adolescent again.  This was not the impression he was trying
to make.

Khu Lon stared at him evenly for a minute, then gave a small shake of her head.
"Men."  The word was evidently an epithet.  "Let us put all that aside, Tendo
Nouma.  I have more important matters to discuss with you."

Nouma casually put his hands behind his back, and used one of his hands to put
a painful lock on the other wrist.  It helped focus his mind.  "Please, call
me Nouma."

"Nouma."  She made it sound like a formal concession.  "It is evident to me
that you are the leader of this expedition."

She seemed to have more to say, but Nouma quickly interrupted.  "No, that's
not right.  Father's in charge."

Khu Lon let out a frustrated breath and began talking to him as if she were
telling a three-year-old why water was wet.  "I have been around politicians
and diplomats all my life.  I have learned to tell how powerful someone is by
the way people act around them.  You father is more of an elder statesperson,
respected for his views, and looked to for guidance, but his days of power
are behind him.  Everyone listens to you, and respects you.  I have absolutely
no doubt that your approval will be needed before any major decision is made
regarding this expedition."

Nouma looked at Khu Lon, at the same time trying to bring his racing mind back
under control.  He hoped that what she said wasn't true - he certainly didn't
feel up to leading everyone.  Yet, he couldn't help but sense the truth behind
her words.  He *was* being included in all the decisions so far.  It was an
awful realization.

More than ever, he was regretting let Nabiki talk him into going to the dojo.

Nouma put those regrets aside.  Nothing would be gained by second-guessing
himself.  He brought himself under control and spoke to Khu Lon in a calm
voice.  "All right, let's just suppose that what you say is true.  What is it
that you want of me?"

"I want you to listen to me."  Her words were delivered with confidence
bordering on arrogance. "I can be of help you.  I can see that you already
take the advice of two other women as well as Tendo Ranma.  I wish to be
included among those you confer with."

"Well, that's easy."  Nouma smiled at her.  "Everyone will always listen to
you.  Nobody here is so high-and-mighty that we aren't above taking advice."

Khu Lon flashed an angry look at him.  She muttered under her breath in
Mandarin.  Nouma caught only a few words. One sounded like "conceited"; another
sounded like the word used to describe what cattle leave behind.

Khu Lon then flashed him a wide smile that didn't reach her eyes.  "Of course,
Nouma.  Forgive me for implying otherwise.  I look forward to working with
you."

Nouma eyed her thoughtfully.  He considered hiding his knowledge of Mandarin
from her, but it felt a little dishonest to do so.  Plus, he felt the tiniest
need for revenge.  He was not conceited.  Well, not much anyway.

He bowed to her and spoke slowly and carefully in the best Mandarin he could
manage.  "I, too, cannot wait to see what the future holds in store for us, 
Khu Lon."

Nouma drank in her surprised and somewhat horrified expression for a few
seconds, then turned away before he lost control of his face and allowed his
amusement to show through.  No need to rub it in.

As he made his way back up the aisle, Ukyo stood up and waved to him.  He
smiled and made his way over.  "Aunt Ukyo, I'm sorry I haven't spent more 
time with you."

Ukyo smiled back.  The years had been kind to her as well; she was fit and 
still quite attractive.  Nouma shook his head and wondered yet again about 
how all of Father's suitors had not only been very cute, but into martial 
arts as well.  Still, Ukyo showed her age; her hair, tied into a bun on top 
of her head, had a lot of gray in it.  Her eyes were still very bright, and 
they sparkled as they usually did.  While Kasumi tended to make everyone feel
calm and serene, and Ranko made everyone laugh, Ukyo filled everyone with a 
general, undefined euphoria.  It came, Nouma supposed, from the fact that Ukyo
was very, very happy with life in general.

"You've been busy, Nouma-chan, I realize that.  These murders are simply 
awful."  Her smile faded into a vaguely worried look.  "What's even more
terrifying, of course, is how worried this is making your father.  I've never
seen Ranma show this much fear."

Nouma nodded.  "I think Father is deliberately making no attempt to hide how
much this upcoming adventure is worrying him.  He wants everyone else to be
afraid as well.  Father taught me that fear is a good thing; it keeps you
alert and alive.  A person without fear is a person who is dead - or soon will
be."  Nouma gave a weak smile.  "He likes to make statements like that.  Not
everyone finds themselves in physical danger as often as Father does, of 
course.  Still, he's doing a good job, I think, at making sure everyone is 
kept on their toes."

Ukyo shook her head and smiled.  "I didn't think of that.  You've just answered
a lot of my questions.  Your father is a natural leader.  It's an instinct 
with him, one he's had as long as I've known him."

That meant something, since Ukyo had been friends with Ranma when he was six.
It also slightly contradicted what Khu Lon had just said about Nouma being the
de facto leader of the expedition.  That made Nouma feel a little better; he
felt a little more comfortable with the person having the greater experience
making the decisions.

"There is one more thing."  Ukyo fidgeted slightly where she stood.  "Have you
thought of a use for me?"

Nouma blinked.  "What do you mean?"

"Well, let's be honest."  Ukyo's face was very serious.  "Most of the other
passengers on this plane are better martial artists than I am.  You've got
quite a brain trust with you, Nabiki, and Kodachi.  Not to mention that young
Amazon, who seems quite taken with you."  Her eyes twinkled, and Nouma wanted
to ask her what she meant, but she continued before he could.  "I'm not dumb
and I can hold my own in a fight, but unless this unknown terror challenges
us to a cooking contest, I'm not going to be much help."

Frowning, Nouma carefully examined Ukyo's face.  She didn't seem depressed or
irritated, which meant that she had an idea for herself.  "What do you have in
mind, Aunt Ukyo?"

Ukyo looked over his shoulder, back down the aisle.  "Your father seems to be
the key to this all.  He's sort of like the king in a chess game; if he goes
down, we lose the game."  She focused on Nouma's eyes again.  "I want to be
his bodyguard.  If I can watch his back, there's a much greater chance that
he'll live through this, along with most of the rest of us."

Nouma looked steadily at Ukyo, his stomach twisting.  "What about your family,
Aunt Ukyo? How would they feel if they knew your were offering your services
as a laser-proof vest for Father?"

"How would they feel if I sacrificed my honor in order to remain alive?" Ukyo
burned her eyes into Nouma's.  "I owe a lot to your father.  He and your
mother are my good friends."  She grimaced and looked down.  "Do you know how
your mother got the scar on her face?"

Nouma felt his heart sink.  He knew where this was leading.

Ukyo spoke, not waiting for his answer.  "I attacked her and your father for
no good reason.  I wanted him for myself, and it drove me crazy to think that
he wouldn't be mine."  She raised her head, and Nouma saw, to his dismay,
tears flowing down her cheek.  "That's a stain upon my honor that I haven't
been able to remove.  I must find a way to redeem myself.  If it costs me my
life, it is a small price to pay."

Nouma took a deep breath.  Ukyo's attitude about honor and debt were slightly
archaic, but still acknowledged as valid in Japan.  Nouma had never quite
accepted the fact that one's life was less important than trivial concerns
about one's honor.  Still, Ukyo believed in it, as did his father.  He could
not deny the force of their beliefs.

"All right, Aunt Ukyo, I'll talk to Father about this."

"No!"  She reached out grab his arm.  "You know he'll just say no.  I'll stick
around him; you have to keep your father from sending me away."

Nouma kept himself from grimacing.  He didn't want to do this.  He didn't see
that he had much choice, however.  "I'll try, Aunt Ukyo, I promise."

She smiled in relief.  "Thank you, Nouma.  You're a fine young man."  She
bowed to him, which made Nouma feel completely flustered; he was sure he didn't
deserve that much respect from her.

Straightening, Ukyo's demeanor returned to her normal, happy one.  "Now, I
think Nabiki and Kodachi want to talk to you.  We'll talk again, I'm sure."

Nouma turned his head to see Nabiki looking impatiently at him, while Kodachi
had one of her ribbons out and was twirling it idly, a nervous habit with her.
Seeing him look her way, she flicked it at him, and it wrapped around him a
couple of times.

Nouma looked back at Ukyo, chuckling.  "You just might be on to something, 
Aunt Ukyo.  I'll see you later."

Ukyo laughed as Nouma allowed the ribbon to pull him down the aisle.

Nabiki was giving Kodachi a slightly disgusted look as Nouma approached.  
"Really, Sister-in-law, this is undignified."

Kodachi flicked her wrist, and the ribbon unwrapped itself from Nouma.  "Don't
tell me you haven't wished you could do the same once in a while.  I've seen
you chasing after your children many times."  With another flick of her wrist,
the ribbon wound itself around the handle, and Kodachi put it away.

"Wishing a thing and acting upon it are two different things, Kodachi."  Nabiki
turned to Nouma.  "We wanted to talk over these reports with you, Nouma.  See
if we can make sense out of them."

Nouma considered this for a moment.  "Well, it couldn't hurt, although we
don't have all the information we need."  He paused for a moment, hoping this
next part wouldn't make him sound love-sick.  "Would either of you object if
Khu Lon joined us?"

As he feared, Nabiki and Kodachi exchanged amused looks.  "Of course not,
Nouma-chan."  Kodachi answered brightly.  "She should certainly be able to
offer some different insights."

Nouma controlled his irritation and looked across the plane.  Somewhat to his
surprise, Khu Lon was looking fixedly at him.  He waved her over, and her face
seemed to soften slightly as she stood and walked up next to him.

He let the sight of her fill his eyes for a second before he used all of his
willpower to beat down the irrational side of his mind and focus on the problem
at hand.  "Before we begin, I have to tell you about something that happened
to me last night."

***

The plane landed and disgorged its passengers.  Nabiki had some trucks waiting
for them, and everyone was soon busy loading equipment into them.  

Nouma, the best English speaker other than Nabiki, was given the task of 
dealing with the Canadian customs.  The customs agent began barking questions 
at him.  He called up the information on his computer and transmitted it to 
her.

The questions were coming faster, and were demanding more information.  Nouma 
was beginning to become frustrated at the bureaucracy of it all. Khu Lon
came up at this point, and began interjecting a comment or two.  She spoke
excellent English herself, and spoke with a smooth confidence that Nouma
couldn't help but admire.  The customs agent began questioning Khu Lon's
credentials - she was listed as being a staff member of the Chinese consulate
in the United States - and Khu Lon answered them easily, offering clarifying 
information before the customs agent could think to ask for it.

Soon, Nouma had handed her his computer and the two women were deep in
conversation.  Khu Lon had a way of speaking the right language, answering
questions in a way that pleased the customs agent.  Much sooner than Nouma
would have thought possible, everything was cleared up.  Their electronic
visas were marked, and the equipment cleared for entry.  The customs agent
smiled and wished them a pleasant visit to Canada.

As she walked away, Nouma looked at Khu Lon in awe.  "That was amazing," he
spoke in Mandarin.  "You're really good at this stuff."

"Let's speak Japanese; it's easier for everyone."  She was still poking away
at the computer, evidently reorganizing all of the information she'd just
entered.  "And it happens to be my job clearing customs for all of the staff
members.  I've been doing it since I was fourteen."

"Wow."  His voice was full of admiration, and she finally looked up at him in
surprise.  "You must be very talented, to be entrusted with such responsibility
so young."

She looked slightly uncomfortable.  "My family has been known to blossom
early."  She looked into his eyes a second, then handed him back the computer.
"Let's help the others load up."

He nodded and they made their way back to the trucks.

As it happened, the work was already finished, and Ranma and Nabiki were deep
in conversation.  Nabiki waved Nouma over.  Nouma looked at Khu Lon and 
indicated with a motion of his head that she should come with him.  Khu Lon
nodded at him, her face set in a business-like expression.

Nabiki interrupted something Ranma was saying to speak to Nouma.  "Tell your
father what an idiot he's being."

Nouma grinned.  "Much as I might relish the chance, I'd like to know why I 
should do so."

Ranma turned his gaze to Nouma, his expression serious.  "I want us to go to
the campground right away.  We need to get started on this immediately."

Nabiki spoke sharply.  "And I say that we've just flown half-way around the
world.  We need to rest and adjust to local time, as well as do some more
research and come up with a strategy.  There is no need to go rushing blindly
into danger."

Nouma sobered as the seriousness of the discussion finally sunk in.  He
looked at Ranma.  "That makes sense to me."

Ranma shook his head.  "I just have a feeling that we're running out of time.
Every hour we waste may mean disaster."

Nouma frowned.  "But Father, we don't even know what the danger is.  What will
happen if we rush in and get beaten by whatever's out there because we were
caught unprepared?  You've taught me that the key to victory is exploiting
the opponent's weakness.  We not only don't know what the opponent's weakness
is, we don't know who the opponent is.  Give us a night to do some research
and get ourselves in synch, and we'll have a much greater chance of coming out
ahead."

Ranma folded his arms across his chest.  "Of course, everything you say makes
sense.  But I've still got this feeling...."

Nabiki interrupted again.  "You also had the feeling that you needed to bring
us along with you or you wouldn't win.  Well, we're here telling you that we
need some time to prepare.  Trust yourself, and listen to us."

Ranma closed his eyes and drew a deep breath.  "Okay, Nabiki.  I hope you're
right.  I hate not listening to my feelings, though."

Nabiki sighed in relief and began sending destination instructions to the
trucks.  Nouma, still frowning, stepped closer to his father.  "Do you think
it's the magic speaking to you, telling you to hurry?"

Ranma shrugged, then turned and climbed into a truck.  He was immediately
followed by Ukyo.  Nouma blinked; he hadn't even seen her lurking nearby.

Nouma looked around, and saw that the truck cabs looked mostly full.  He could
probably find a seat, but he felt the need to think.  He walked around the 
back of a truck and jumped inside.  

To his surprise, Khu Lon jumped up with him.  He tried to control his pleasure,
then decided he was tired of trying to police his thoughts.  It was probably
best that he allow himself to go too far until Khu Lon kicked him into Low
Earth Orbit; then perhaps his hindbrain would get the message.

To that end, he smiled widely at her.  She rolled her eyes slightly before
sitting on a crate opposite him.

Nouma kept the smile on his face.  "I don't think I thanked you for your help
with customs."

"Enough about that, Tendo Nouma.  You can sing my praises all you want; it 
still won't succeed in getting anywhere with me."

This was almost as good as the suborbital launch.  Nouma felt his feelings
crashing into the pit of his stomach.  Yet, his hindbrain wasn't giving up.
It pointed out that she didn't have to ride back here with him.  If she was
truly uninterested, she would have ridden in one of the cabs.

He tried to keep his emotional turmoil out of his voice.  He grasped for some
small talk to make with her.  "Has anyone ever 'gotten anywhere' with you?"
He regretted the question immediately; it was awfully personal.

Thankfully, she didn't seem offended.  "Whenever we make one of our visits to
Joketsuzoku, there is a line of men waiting to challenge me in combat."

Nouma blinked; it sounded an awful lot like Akane's stories of what dating 
was like for her before Ranma came along.  "I thought no one followed the
ancient laws anymore."

Her eyes flashed.  "What would you know of it?"

"My cousin has done an extensive biography of my father.  She includes the
events surrounding your mother's... courtship... of my father.  I found the
concepts interesting, and read some of the works in her bibliography.  Much
of the history of Joketsuzoku is still a mystery to outsiders, of course, but
I read some of the essays of your father's teacher, Guo Wen.  He did an 
excellent job of comparing the problems the Amazons faced during the founding
of Joketsuzoku to the Amazons' struggles to adapt themselves to the modern
world."

Khu Lon gave him a strange, thoughtful look before finally nodding.  "Yes,
you're right, the ancient law of forcing a woman to marry a man able to defeat
her in combat is pretty much ignored.  However, I have made it clear that I am
tired of the attention I get from men all the time and have indicated that I
will, indeed, marry the man able to defeat me in combat.  Otherwise, men are
to leave me alone.  It's worked very well.  I line them all up, beat them very
thoroughly one at a time, and spend the rest of my visit in peace."

Nouma beat back an irrational urge to attack Khu Lon then and there.  He 
should be able to defeat her very easily.

Nouma chuckled suddenly, and Khu Lon's eyebrows drew together.  "What is so
funny?"

Nouma smiled.  "Forgive me, Khu Lon.  I have just had a sudden insight into
why all those boys tried to beat up my mother every morning before school.  I
had judged them harshly; now I find myself fighting that same impulse."

Khu Lon looked at him darkly.  "I would not try it, Tendo Nouma.  I saw you in
the Olympics.  I could have defeated you easily."

Nouma thought about how to respond.  He didn't think she knew how limiting
his attacks were under the rules of the competition.  The School of Anything
Goes Martial Arts concentrated a lot on finding any and all ways to defeat an
opponent and precious little on following formal rules of competition.  If
he'd been allowed to, he could have taken each opponent out with a Moko 
Takabisha in the first five seconds.  He'd concentrated on five simple, legal
attacks and using his superior speed to make them work.  If she was judging him
entirely on what she'd seen him do during the Olympics, she was underestimating
him considerably.

He decided to let it pass.  He didn't feel like bragging, and he had no desire
to win her affection by beating her up.  "As you say.  Please, though, do call
me Nouma."

"I will, when you stop making foolish statements.  Which, judging from current
experience, won't be until the next millennium."

He laughed, realizing that there was a grain of truth to that.  He *was* 
acting foolishly around her.  He allowed himself to go on for a few seconds,
before bringing himself under control.  "Touche."  He cast about for a topic
change.  "So, uh, whose martial arts style do you follow, your mother's or
your father's?"

"Both, naturally.  There is no reason to limit myself to any one school."

Nouma suppressed a grin.  It was quite a boastful thing to say, but he had
already gathered that Khu Lon had plenty of self-confidence.  "You're not
wearing robes, though."

"There are many different ways to hide weapons."  She jerked her arm in his
direction.  Something flashed at the air at him.  He snapped his hand up and
snatched it out of the air, even as he realized that its trajectory would have
missed him to the side.

He looked at the throwing star, impressed.  "That *is* good.  I didn't see
where that came from.  That might prove very useful."

For her part, Khu Lon seemed to have frozen in place, staring at him.  She
probably hadn't expected him to be able to catch the throwing star.  Once
again, Nouma drew satisfaction from destroying her preconceptions about him.

She recovered quickly.  "I plan on being useful.  This is going to be very
exciting."

Nouma frowned.  He wouldn't have thought to call this whole adventure 
'exciting'.  "Why is that?"

She took the star back from him, and did something like a magician's pass to
make it disappear to wherever it had come from.  She leaned back against the
crate and stared at the ceiling, her voice becoming excited.  "Being a member
of the diplomatic corps is awfully boring.  You spend hours and hours talking,
saying the same thing over and over again.  In between, you do hours of
research so that your Ambassador - Mother - doesn't look foolish.  There's
no excitement at all.  I keep hoping someone tries to assassinate Mother, so
I can beat them up."

Nouma looked at her in surprise; she seemed completely serious.  She reminded
him of his sister, and not in a pleasant way either.  If someone were to try
and kill Shampoo, they'd use a bomb or a laser or something where Khu Lon's
skills would be entirely worthless.

She continued on, unaware of his continued frown in her direction.  "This is
the first time I've been a part of something that could lead to actual combat,
like Mother and Father faced all the time when they lived in Japan.  I've
prepared my whole life for this, and I'm eager for it to happen."  Her eyes
were shining.

Nouma had suddenly discovered a new way to get over Khu Lon:  disillusionment.
Khu Lon seemed unaware of what real danger was like.  To her it was fun and 
exciting.  Nouma suddenly realized that, if offered the chance to take over 
Ranma's curse, she would gladly accept.  That was exactly the kind of life she
wanted to lead.

Nouma hoped her desire for adventure wouldn't get her killed.

He felt the truck pulling into a parking lot.  Khu Lon shook herself and looked
at Nouma, her smile fading as she saw his expression.  He quickly turned his
expression neutral.  He got up, went to the truck's back door, and lifted it
up.  

They were at a relatively posh hotel, more of Nabiki's doing he was certain.
Nabiki had private rooms for each of them.  Before she went to her room, she
activated the command console, still sitting in the back of a truck.  She
had everyone set up the correct protocols, and verified the connections.

"You can use this to talk to each other, if you want.  Your computers have full 
real-time audio/visual transmission and reception capabilities.  One advantage
to using this over the vids is that we can't be eavesdropped upon, unless
someone hacks into the satellite and decrypts our transmissions.  We still
don't know why those hikers didn't use their vids, so this might be important."

She looked over at Ranma.  "This works for Akane, too.  You can speak to her,
if you want.  Keep in mind the time difference.  She has the ability to 
remotely access your computers, and use them to transmit A/V.  Actually, you
all have that capability."  She looked back around at everyone.  "I set it up
that way because it might be important to know what you're seeing at any
particular moment.  This only works, of course, if your computers are on.  I'd
suggest leaving them on constantly.  The batteries are good for a week, and
we have plenty of spares."

Nouma nodded.  "That sounds good.  Why don't we get settled, and try to get
some rest.  We can all meet tomorrow and start to map out our plan of attack,
so to speak."  He looked over at Ranma, suddenly realizing he was perhaps
usurping his position.  Ranma only nodded, and everyone left to find their
rooms.

Nouma had trouble sleeping.  He hooked his computer up to the worldnet and 
found out little that was useful about the Native Americans that the cultural
anthropologists had been researching.  Certainly no legends about all-powerful
monsters that had been sealed away for centuries, much to Nouma's 
disappointment.  He'd been hoping that the cave was holding a secret of some
sort alluded to in the Native American histories.  Still, that history was
spotty - the tribe that had claimed the area of the caves had not survived the
expansion into their territory by the Europeans.  There could very well be a
secret associated with the cave that had died along with the tribe.

Nouma cross-referenced as much as he could, but found nothing more.  This was
quite frustrating; he had nothing on which to base a strategy.

He was interrupted by a knock on the door.  He frowned at the clock; it was
fairly late.  Still, he didn't feel tired.  Probably few of the others did;
perhaps one of them was coming to talk.  Perhaps it was Khu Lon, coming to 
spend the night with him.  He beat that thought down savagely; it was a 
perverted thought, unworthy of him or Khu Lon.  Sometimes he hated the things
testosterone made him think.  He wondered if Ranma was able to think more
clearly when he was female.  Maybe that's why he changed before giving the
presentation at the dojo.

He got up, went over to the door, opened it, and blinked at Khu Lon.

She had her diplomat's face on.  She turned to indicate a woman standing next
to her. "The Inspector here would like to speak with you," she said in 
English.

Nouma turned his surprised glance at the woman.  She was middle-aged, wearing
a rumpled suit, and had a steely look on her face.  "I came to Cologne - " 
Nouma winced as she mangled the name, " - because her name was on most of the
customs forms that were filled out at the airport.  She indicated to me that 
you were the leader of this little camping trip."

Nouma shot a dark look at Khu Lon, who returned it calmly, still in diplomat
mode.  He decided that it was no use trying to debate the subject now.  "Please
come in, Inspector."

The two women entered the room.  There were two chairs at a small table; they
each took one at Nouma's insistence while he sat on the bed.  He looked evenly
at the Inspector, waiting for her to begin.

She was nothing if not blunt.  "What the hell are you doing in my country?"

Nouma recoiled a bit before recovering.  "Surely you got that information from
the customs forms."

"A vacation in the Rockies doesn't explain all of that equipment.  Not to 
mention that your destination is suspiciously close to an area cordoned off
by the RCMP.  I also did a little digging around.  There was an American 
policeman raising all sorts of hell around here because his friend was one of
the ones killed during an incident I'm sure you're already familiar with.
It turns out that, during an important case in America, he got help at a key
moment from one Ranma Tendo, who happens to be listed as a member of your
party."

She paused a moment to let that all sink in, then glared fiercely at Nouma.
"I have no intention of allowing a bunch of would-be Sherlock Holmes to ruin
an ongoing investigation.  I want you out of the country, and tell your
American patron to mind his own damn business."

Khu Lon spoke before Nouma could.  "Our visas are valid for thirty days.  We
have not been charged with any crimes, and are not on your list of 
undesirables.  You cannot legally force us to leave.  If you try, you will
find that my government will object quite forcefully."

The woman turned her head to consider Khu Lon.  "Yes, I know you're the
daughter of the Chinese Ambassador to the United States.  Keep in mind you're
not in the US.  I don't much care what pressure you bring to bear.  What I do 
care about is making sure no one else gets killed.  Think how much your 
government would object if I returned the Ambassador's daughter in a box."

Khu Lon's eyes flashed, and Nouma smoothly interrupted.  "Please, Inspector.
We have no wish to fight you.  As Khu Lon says, you cannot legally stop us from
visiting the Rockies."  He paused, trying to gauge her.  She seemed genuinely
concerned for their welfare, but also angry about what it was they were 
obviously trying to do.  He wavered between complete honesty, which would 
probably give the Inspector the ammunition she needed to expel them, and
sticking with their cover story even though it had obviously been blown.

He sighed and leaned forward.  "Look, Inspector, you know all about magic,
right?"

She curled her lip.  "Are you trying to tell me that magic killed all those
people?"

Nouma raised an eyebrow.  "Have you come up with a better explanation?"

"What we have come up with is of no concern to you."

Nouma grimaced; he was losing ground here.  She was becoming angrier, now that
all of her suspicions had been confirmed.  Nevertheless, he tried to see it
through.  "To paraphrase the esteemed Mr. Holmes, when you eliminate the
highly probable, whatever is left, however improbable, must be the truth.
There is no apparent cause of death and no apparent reason why the vids
weren't used.  Magic seems the best answer to me."

The inspector looked at him darkly.  "Where did you get that information?"

Nouma smiled weakly.  "You did mention an American patron."  He drew a breath.
"Now, to continue, if magic seems the explanation, then our group of people
is best equipped to handle it.  Especially Tendo Ranma, who has had more direct
experience with magic than anyone else on Earth, I would bet."

The Inspector stared at him for a full minute.  "Very well.  I'm willing to
give you the benefit of the doubt.  I would very much like to see this case
resolved.  I've got a lot of dead bodies and I'd sure like to find out what
got them that way before it adds to the number.  All I ask is that you keep
me informed."

Nouma studied her carefully, then slowly nodded.

She got up and walked briskly to the door.  "If you will excuse me.  I need to
give a certain American a lecture on the proper distribution of police files."

She left, and as the door closed Khu Lon let out a sigh of relief.  "You
handled that quite well, Nouma.  I'm impressed."

"Don't be."  He spoke that more sharply than he intended, and grimaced.  "She
wasn't buying it.  She doesn't believe in magic.  She's going to go to the
government and try to get us thrown out of the country."  Nouma blew out a
breath.  "This is probably the reason Father wanted us to leave right away."

Khu Lon stared at him in astonishment.  "How do you know all this?"

"I just do.  I can read people pretty well.  It's a talent with me."

Khu Lon stood up.  "We should leave right away, then."

Nouma shook his head.  "It doesn't matter any more.  She's already found us
out.  We may as well stick with the original plan and hope that she gets
caught up in the bureaucracy."

Khu Lon considered this, and nodded.  "You may be right.  I'll call Mother.
She may be able to help with that."

Nouma smiled at her.  "That would be nice."

"Okay."  She stood still for a moment, thinking, then walked to the door.

Nouma rubbed his temples as she left.  Life was getting more and more 
complicated.  He picked up the computer again and contacted Nabiki's computer.
Maybe she would be able to do something to get the Inspector out of their
hair.

***

The Inspector slammed the car door.  She put the car on manual so she could
peel out of the parking lot.  Except that the tires wouldn't cooperate.  The
car merely lurched forward.  She missed the days when tires were made of 
rubber.

Those damn arrogant Japanese.  Thinking that she would swallow something as
preposterous as magic.  Some of her fellow detectives had also mentioned magic
as a possible reason for the deaths.  She hated the very notion.  There was a
logical reason for all of the examples people pointed to as "proof" that magic
existed.  There was also a logical reason for those hiker's deaths.  She would
find it eventually.

After she'd tossed those Asians back across the ocean.

Her anger over their arrogance increased.  She pressed on the accelerator,
the anger making her reckless.  She shot onto the freeway, wondering if one
of her fellow officers would pull her over.  As embarrassing as that might
prove, she didn't much care.  She was just so angry.

"You know," a whisper in her ear spoke in a conversational tone, "I went to a
lot of trouble to bring those people to me.  It would be a shame to lose them
all."

For some reason people whispering in her ear made her angrier.  She floored
the accelerator.

"I'm still a little weak, so it's costing me a lot of energy to deal with you.
I don't like that.  Now I'll have to kill one of them for their energy.  I
would much rather have used them all as my vanguards, but these sacrifices 
have to be made.  You're too far out of range for me to drain, alas, but not
so far that I can't make sure you don't bother me ever again."

Damn stupid whisper.  Damn stupid foreigners.  They made her so angry.  She
wished they'd all go away so she could be happy again.

The freeway made a somewhat sharp turn ahead.  It recommended a maximum speed
of 110 kph.  She took it at almost 200 kph.  The car skidded and slammed into
the guardrail.  The car flipped over the rail and rolled across the ground 
several times.

The car's safety systems worked very well, and she came out of the car
relatively undamaged.  The car was ruined, however, and that just made her
furious.  She stalked away from it, knowing that she would make someone pay.

She saw the cars going down the freeway, going their merry way while she was
stuck.  She hated them, absolutely hated them.  How dare they be able to go
where they please while she was stuck.  She walked out onto the freeway, 
screaming at them as the went by.

She heard the screeching of brakes, and turned to see a car approaching 
rapidly.  She just had time to snarl at it before it knocked the anger right
out of her.