J. Austin Wilde and Fission Park Press proudly present
                the final installment of...

                    Chasing the Wind



            “Oh I feel it coming back again,
        like a rollin’ thunder chasing the wind.
    Forces pullin’ from the center of the earth again.
                     I can feel it.”


                  “Lightning Crashes” 
    Written by Edward Kowalczyk and performed by Live.
             (C) 1994 Loco de Amor Music.



                       Part Ten:
                  Finale and Aftermath



                      Chapter One



     Hiro Ohata knew they were headed for trouble, and there wasn’t 
much he could do about it. Ryoga wasn’t listening to reason. All he 
could do was follow the guy and hope for the best. He had his H&K G-3 
automatic rifle slung over his shoulder just in case.
     It had started early that morning, the day after the Conclave. 
Fortunately Hiro was an early riser, otherwise he would have missed 
Ryoga standing outside Ranma and Akane’s tent in slack jawed 
shock. He had caught that wild glint of anger in Ryoga’s eyes and 
grabbed for his rifle. Kuno continued to sleep like the dead within 
the tent, but there was no sense in having two raving lunatics to deal 
with at the break of dawn.
     He threw on his camouflage pattern fatigue trousers and boots, and 
settled for only his olive drab tank top as he clutched at the rifle 
on his way out of the tent. In many ways he was dressed just like Ryoga, 
missing only the bandanna. He reached Ranma and Akane’s tent and 
peeked in as Ryoga stomped off through the camp. Inside lay their 
luggage and those few personal effects they had brought with them. 
A sleeping mat lay bare and unused on the floor of the tent. All of the 
blankets were gone.
     It didn’t take a genius to realize that the two were enjoying a 
rather passionate love affair. Somehow that didn’t stop the likes of 
Kuno from noticing, but perhaps that was an answer in itself. Now it 
seemed the truth had dawned upon Ryoga, and the fanged wanderer had not 
seemed amused. Not at all.
     He had tried to gently steer Ryoga back to the camp and a little 
breakfast. Ryoga hadn’t given him so much as a snort in reply. Then 
he mentioned that it was still pretty chilly out, and rubbed at his arms 
for effect. Ryoga continued to ignore him.
     Finally Ryoga had grown weary of his shadow and threw him against 
one of the walls of the ruins and asked him in a loud voice if he knew 
where Ranma was. Hiro had a few ideas but denied it. Ryoga had let 
him go and told him to go back to camp. Hiro had prevailed upon him 
that he might get lost without him. Grudgingly, Ryoga let him follow.
     And so there they were, stomping around the ruins looking for 
Ranma, and of course Akane, although Ryoga hadn’t once mentioned 
her by name. Hiro wasn’t sure what Ryoga was going to do when he 
found Ranma, and even more so because he knew Akane was going 
to be with him. He had no intention of shooting Ryoga if it came down 
to it, but the weight and feel of the rifle against his back was a 
comfort.
     They searched for an hour, and in that time Hiro prayed Ryoga 
would calm down. The wait only incensed him further. When they did 
finally find Ranma and Akane, Ryoga was a boiler about to lift a safety 
valve.
     The two were curled up cozily in each other’s arms, fast asleep in 
a wrap of warm blankets. Their clothes were folded neatly in a corner 
of the ruined building, and wrapped in a plastic bag to keep the dew 
off of them. They looked adorable, but under the circumstances it was 
probably only making matters worse.
     Ryoga stood over them seething somewhere between rage and 
anguish. Tears streamed slowly down his face. Hiro watched quietly, 
giving Ryoga one last chance to come to his senses. Fighting the guy 
was last thing Hiro wanted. He felt like living to see another sunrise.
     After a minute of watching them sleep peacefully oblivious to him, 
he could bear no more.
     “RANMA SAOTOME, PREPARE TO DIE!!!”
     Ranma slowly opened his eyes as Akane started awake in his arms. 
The two looked up at Ryoga Hibiki standing over them. Ryoga was 
pulsing with anger, they could see it streaming from his body.
     “Hey Ryoga,” Ranma muttered groggily to him. “Don’t you think 
it’s a little early for death threats? Come back in a little while, 
okay?” 
     He snuggled close to Akane again and went back to sleep. Akane 
continued to stare at Ryoga, and her face flushed red. Ranma was 
already snoring softly at the nape of her neck.
     Ryoga’s safety valve lifted.
     “RRRAAAAAAAARRRRGGGGGHHHHH!!!”
     He lunged towards him, only to have his death strike caught by 
Ranma, who was still half asleep. Hiro leaped at Ryoga to stop him. 
With his free hand Ryoga backhanded Hiro across the face and sent 
him flying to the ground. In the meantime Ranma wrenched Ryoga
into the air and threw him over the top of the low ruined wall.
     Ryoga landed on his feet and into a fighting stance. Ranma jumped 
up out of the makeshift bed and assumed a stance to counter Ryoga’s 
most likely lead off attack. He was too angry to notice how cold it was 
without any clothes on.
     Akane stood up and clutched the blanket to her body. Hiro was 
just getting off the ground with blood streaming from his nose. He 
pinched it to staunch the flow. Akane had seen enough broken noses 
on Ranma to know that Hiro was still more or less intact.
     “Dat wasn’t berry dice Ryoga,” Hiro muttered angrily to him, blood 
dripping down his chin.
     “Ryoga! What do you think you’re doing?” Akane cried.
     Ryoga gave her a desperately hurt look and then snarled at Ranma. 
Ranma stood fast, waiting for Ryoga to make his move. Ryoga was too 
upset to do anything but glare and tremble. They were in a stand off.
     “Look Ryoga, this ain’t the time or the place for a fight,” Ranma 
growled. “But if you really want to take my head off, you can meet 
me back here in an hour.”
     Ryoga looked at him standing naked before him, and then to Akane, 
who was obviously naked as well beneath the blankets she held close 
to herself. His knuckles popped as he flexed his fingers in rage.
     “Consider it the last hour of your worthless life,” Ryoga returned 
bitterly. He turned and ran back towards camp. If not for the dread 
that hung in the air, they might have appreciated the fact that he ran 
off in the right direction for once.
     Hiro reached into the pocket of his trousers and pulled out a rag 
to dabble at his nose. 
     “Sorry Saotome, I tried to stop him.”
     Ranma looked down at himself, realizing that he was naked, and 
then back to Hiro. 
     “It ain’t your fault,” he replied evenly. “I don’t think you could 
have stopped him without one of you getting killed.” He walked 
over to the plastic bag with their clothes and began getting dressed.
     “You can’t be serious, Ranma!” Akane yelled at him. “Why do you 
two always have to fight?”
     “Hey it ain’t like I asked him to come out here at the crack of 
dawn and start howling for my blood!” Ranma snapped back at her.
     “Don’t yell at _me!_” Akane gave back with equal venom.
     “I ain’t yellin’ at you!”
     “Sounds like it from here,” Hiro observed.
     “Butt out!” Ranma and Akane cried in unison.
     Hiro waved his bloody rag at them.
     “Butting out,” he said, and turned to go. “I’ll see about getting 
some shovels and maybe a pick to go dig the grave. I have the bad 
feeling someone’s gonna be needing one.”
     He walked about ten meters before saying to himself (but in a voice 
loud enough for the two to hear), “I had hoped that the spilling of one 
person’s blood this morning was enough...” 
     The two watched him go and suddenly felt a little guilty for 
snapping at him.
     Akane began to dress silently. Ranma shook out the blankets and 
then folded them up.
     “Man, this day’s already shot to hell...” Ranma mumbled.
     “I still don’t see what you’re trying to accomplish by challenging 
him to another fight,” Akane said to him in a calmer voice.
     “I’m gonna try an’ reason with him first,” he replied. “I’m hopin’ 
the hour will give him a chance to calm down. Then if it comes to it, 
I’ll fight.”
     “What’s he so mad about anyway? What did you do to him this 
time?”
     Ranma looked her over.
     “I slept with you.”
     Akane’s eyes widened, and then realization dawned upon her. 
     “You don’t think he’s still...?”
     “Uh huh. He saw us out here in each other’s arms and snapped.”
     Akane nodded her head in agreement. There couldn’t be any 
other explanation for Ryoga’s behavior. Not when he had been so 
happy to find them yesterday.
     “Promise me you’ll try real hard not to fight,” she said to him.
     Ranma raised his hand. “I don’t want to want fight him anyway, 
so I promise.”
     “Do you want me to be there?”
     He shook his head. “No, I think that just might set him off again. 
Plus there are a few things I gotta say to him that I’d rather not say 
in front of you.”
     “Oh?”
     “Yeah. Trust me on this. You don’t want to be there.”
     She looked at him dubiously.
     “Okay... But remember that I have your promise, and you always 
keep your promises.”



                      *       *       *



     Akane sent Hiro along in her stead. Hiro would have showed up 
anyway, but now it was as a favor to her. His nose still throbbed 
where Ryoga had smacked him, but at least the bleeding had stopped.
     “As if I could refuse her anyway,” he said to himself. The G-3 
was still slung over his back. This time it was going to be the 
referee.
     Ranma caught up to him as he started for the appointed place.
     “Where do you think _you’re_ going?”
     Hiro pointed to the ruined building in the distance.
     Ranma shook his head.
     “Sorry Saotome,” Hiro replied. “Someone’s gotta dig the graves.” 
He held up the shovel he carried in his hand. “Might as well be me. 
Hope the ground isn’t too cold...”
     “No one’s going to get killed,” Ranma said confidently. “Ryoga 
and me always fight. You know that.”
     “Yeah, but I’ve never seen that weird glint in his eye before. 
Ever. I’ve seen you piss him off before, and it’s nothing like the 
look I saw this morning. He wants blood.”
     He held up the shovel again.
     “I figure what you said to me was right. Someone’s gonna get killed 
trying to stop him.”
     Ranma laughed it off.
     Ryoga was waiting for them in the ruins. Ranma couldn’t believe it. 
He figured on a few hours, days even, before Ryoga managed to find 
his way back to the appointed place. 
     **He’s big-time focused...** Ranma thought as he surveyed 
Ryoga doing warm-up exercises. **Hiro might be right...**
     “I see that you brought your grave digger,” Ryoga observed, 
gesturing to Hiro and his shovel.
     Hiro bowed mockingly for him.
     “You guys are stupid for doing this,” he told them.
     “Shut up Ohata!” Ryoga barked at him.
     “Let me handle this, Hiro,” Ranma added.
     Hiro shrugged and sat up on a wall to watch. He dropped the 
shovel at his feet.
     Ranma returned his attention to Ryoga.
     “Can I at least explain myself?”
     “What’s there to explain?!” Ryoga bellowed. “How dare you do 
such a thing with Akane?! You’ve... You’ve...” He settled for 
trembling with rage when the words failed him.
     Ranma crossed his arms over his chest.
     “Akane is an adult,” he began. “What she and I do together is 
absolutely none of your business.”
     Ryoga began to crackle.
     “Furthermore, I’m sorry I didn’t get the chance to explain last 
night because things were so crazy after the Conclave, but I asked 
Akane to marry me last week. She said yes. We’re engaged for real now.”
     “That doesn’t make any goddamn difference!” Ryoga shouted 
back. “You aren’t married yet!”
     “I said it wasn’t any of your business! That’s between me and 
Akane. You aren’t anywhere in there, got it?”
     It was too much; Ryoga charged.
     “YOU DIE!!!”
     Ranma straight-armed him. Hiro did a double take, because it 
seemed that the air around the pig-tailed martial artist warped and 
flowed into him. Ryoga was flung backwards into a wall with a 
heavy thud.
     Ryoga picked himself up out of a pile of stone bricks and brushed 
at his arms. He was slightly bruised and cut, but seemingly unfazed 
for being thrown through a stone wall. Hiro was flabbergasted.
     “Ryoga, I don’t understand you,” Ranma said evenly. “I’ve tried 
to be your friend... I’ve tried to let bygones be bygones... I’ve been 
keeping this goddamn P-Chan thing away from Akane for three years 
now, and I’ve been tempted -oh I’ve been tempted- to spill the beans 
just to get you out of my life! But I haven’t... Because I still want 
you for my friend.”
     Ryoga spat out a little blood and started coming back towards him 
warily.
     Ranma continued, though he kept a close eye on Ryoga.
     “You destroy everything in my life, and you tell me that you are my 
friend?!” Ryoga snarled in interruption. He clenched his fists tight.
     Ranma couldn’t believe this. He was trying to be rational; hell he 
was even being more accommodating than Ryoga deserved. It was 
almost too much, but he remembered his promise to Akane.
     “Ryoga...”
     “Shut up!” 
     Ryoga threw himself at Ranma and began striking dozens of blows 
that Ranma either blocked or dodged. In an instant Ryoga was thrown 
backwards through the hole he had previously made in the wall with 
another straight-arm. Once again Hiro saw the air warp and melt into 
Ranma as he struck.
     “I’ve been going easy on you, Ryoga. I promised Akane that I’d 
try to talk to you, and not fight. But you aren’t making this easy my 
friend.”
     “For the way you have shamed Akane there can be no forgiveness!” 
Ryoga shouted back at him. He was on his feet again and unfazed by 
the blow he had received. “And you mock me when you call me friend! 
Never again!”
     Ranma threw up his hands in disgust.
     “I’m sick and tired about hearing how it’s always the world versus 
Ryoga Hibiki!” Ranma yelled at him. “You wanna know something? I 
am _not_ responsible for your Jusenkyo curse! If you hadn’t decided to 
become such a goddamn martyr over the bread feud, you never would 
have left Japan! I am _not_ responsible for any of the messes you’ve 
gotten yourself into and blamed me for! Just once in your life take 
some responsibility for yourself and your own actions! No one wants 
to hear your sob story anymore, and LEAST OF ALL ME!!!”
     The muscles on Ryoga’s neck began to pop out like thick cords. 
His arms swelled as he flexed all his muscles. His face was a twisted 
mask of anguish and despair. Lightning swift he threw out his hands, 
and the fireball of ki energy blossomed forth.
     “SHI SHI HOKODAN!!!”
     The blast struck Ranma dead on, catapulting him backwards in a 
coruscating spray of light. He landed hard on the chilled ground and 
spat out a clod of dirt. 
     “Now I’m pissed,” Ranma growled. “You want to die so badly, 
I’ll see what I can do for you.”
     They flew at each other once more, fists and feet lashing out 
viciously. Blows landed, yet neither would flinch or fall. The ferocity 
of it frightened Hiro, who could barely see any of it for it’s speed 
and intensity. They were literally going to kill each other, whether 
they intended to or not.
     So he did the only thing he could think of.

        *KA-CHOW! KA-CHOW! KA-CHOW! KA-CHOW! KA-CHOW!*

     There was just enough rational mind between the two of them, and 
just enough of the old soldier for them to hit the deck when the sound 
of gunfire came crashing in on them. Dirt clods from the bullets’ 
impacts around them spattered their bodies and stung wherever 
they hit exposed flesh.
     They looked up at Hiro, and to the smoke wafting from the barrel 
of the G-3 in his hands. The weapon was leveled at the two of them. 
That 7.62mm rifle was looking a lot like a 155mm howitzer from their 
perspective.
     “That’s about goddamn enough!” He screamed at them. He then 
jumped down from the wall and kicked the shovel at them. He held 
the rifle at high guard as he yelled.
     “You think I brought this fucking shovel so I could bury you?!”
     They looked at him in silence.
     “Wrong! I brought the shovel to remind you of how fucking stupid 
you’re acting! Both of you! Did it ever occur to you that the rest of us 
want you alive?!”
     He leveled the rifle at Ryoga’s forehead. Ryoga was to ready to 
spring at him.
     “You slapped the shit out of me and gave me a bloody nose; for
 that I oughta blow your fucking brains out Hibiki! Am I overreacting?! 
Good! That’s _exactly_ what _you’re_ doing, you fucking moron! Do 
you see that now?!”
     Ryoga growled and looked like he was willing to chance a bullet 
to get to Hiro.
     Hiro capped off a quick burst that sailed inches over Ryoga’s head. 
     “Back the fuck off!” Hiro screamed at him as the brass shell 
casings jingled along the stones of the ruined wall. “We need Ranma 
alive a lot more than we need you!”
     Ryoga gave him a hate filled look.
     “Hiro...” Ranma said uneasily.
     “Don’t think for a minute that I won’t splatter your head all over 
this ruin Hibiki,” Hiro growled with equal hatred. “You’re number one 
on my shit list this morning. Now back off.”
     Ryoga edged slowly away from the two. When he was ten meters 
back, he began to stand up.
     “No funny stuff,” Hiro snarled, keeping the rifle square on Ryoga’s 
chest. “I even _think_ you’re gonna pull some of that mumbo-jumbo 
ki bullshit, and I’m sending you home to Japan in a box.”
     “Okay Hiro, everything’s cool.” Ranma soothed. “You aren’t 
gonna shoot Ryoga.”
     “Shut the fuck up, Saotome!” 
     “Hiro!” Akane’s voice cried behind them.
     Ranma looked to see Akane, Nabiki, Kuno, Aerandir, and 
Minhiriath running towards them. Several Maia with spears were 
close behind.
     “Okay Hiro, the cavalry’s here. Put down the rifle.” Ranma told him.
     Hiro gave Ryoga one last look of contempt before lowering the rifle.
     “Stupid asshole,” Hiro whispered to him. “Doesn’t know his friends 
when he’s got ‘em.”
     Aerandir hopped up on the wall and regarded them.
     “Perhaps we could discuss this without the firearms?” He suggested.
     “I was just leaving,” Hiro replied. He picked up the shovel. 
“Hopefully I won’t be needing this now.”
     “What’s going on here?” Nabiki cried. “We’re having breakfast and 
then the shooting starts! We thought it was the Russians again.”
     “Everything’s okay,” Ranma assured them. “We just got a little 
carried away, but everything’s cool.” He looked to Ryoga. “Right, 
Ryoga?”
     Ryoga looked up at him with tear stained eyes.
     “Yeah, everything is fine...” He muttered softly.
     “There, you see?” Ranma said. He took Akane’s hand and Hiro’s 
shoulder, and began to walk them back towards camp. “I can’t believe 
I’m missing breakfast!”
     Kuno and Nabiki saw no further reason to hang around either, and 
followed their lead.
     Aerandir seemed satisfied that there wasn’t going to be any further 
disturbances, and dismissed the three spear armed Maia. The spectral 
white flames on their spearheads sparkled away into nothingness, and 
they returned to their posts.
     “You promised me, Ranma,” Akane told him sternly, but in a voice 
low enough not to be heard by Nabiki or Kuno.
     “I tried!” He hissed in response. “He hit me with that damn Shi Shi 
Hokodan. What do you want me to do, stand there and take it?”
     “He _did_ try, Akane-chan,” Hiro added softly.
     Ranma looked at him. “And you... What’s the big idea shooting at 
us like that?”
     “What?!” Akane cried.
     “I had to stop you two from killing each other,” Hiro replied 
calmly. “The only way I could think of was to give you a common enemy.”
     Ranma gave him a hard look. A look Akane shared.
     Hiro shrugged. “Hey, it worked in Korea. Every time you’d start 
fighting each other, they’d start shelling us, and you’d forget your 
differences.”
     “What about threatening to kill Ryoga?”
     “What?!” Akane cried a second time.
     “I take it mine was a convincing performance?” Hiro asked.
     Now it was Ranma’s turn to cry, “what?!”
     “Guess so,” Hiro remarked. “Well I got you to calm down, and I 
just wanted to ram it down his throat how stupid he was acting. Plus 
I wanted him hating me more than he did you. I guess I pissed him 
off pretty good.”
     “So you weren’t serious about shooting him?”
     “Of course not. I just bluffed him, that’s all.”
     “Hiro! Ryoga would have ripped you limb from limb if he had 
rushed you.”
     “Chance I had to take. I figured he was smart enough to realize 
that I could squeeze the trigger before he could reach me. He was, 
I might add. I just needed to freak out on him to convince him I was 
capable of killing him.”
     “That was dumb, Hiro. Real dumb. Don’t ever pull that stunt again.”
     Hiro laughed. “What can I say? I did what I could to keep the two 
of you alive and in one piece.”
     Ranma thumped his shoulder. “Thanks man, but I think you should 
leave Ryoga to me next time.”
     Akane thumped Ranma on the head.
     “Oww! What was that for?”
     “Promise or not, I should have known better than to think you could 
get along with Ryoga,” she said evenly.
     “Hey! I kept my promise! I never said I wouldn’t fight him; I just 
said I’d _try_ not to. And I did!”
     She stuck her tongue out at him. He returned in kind. Hiro rolled 
his eyes at this. 
     Ranma stowed his tongue and gave her hand a squeeze. “So when 
do you want to start training?” He asked her.
     Akane hadn’t really been sure that he was serious about the subject. 
She had chalked it up to wishful thinking and wistful pillow talk. Her 
heart leapt at his words.
     “Y-You mean it?”
     “Yeah I mean it. I think it’s important we learn to fight together. 
Especially for what’s ahead, but I also mean on down the line. You 
never know what’s gonna happen when this is all said and done.”
     “You amaze me Ranma...” She said softly.
     Ranma rubbed the back of his neck and grinned. “Yeah, well you 
should be used to that by now.”
      Akane brought her elbow down on the top of his head. Ranma’s 
knees buckled and he dropped like an empty sack of rice. Hiro jumped 
away in surprise. Akane leaned over and looked at him as he rubbed 
at the top of his head.
     “It amazes me how you can be such a jerk and so nice to me in the 
same conversation,” she told him. “An hour after breakfast sound okay?”
     He rubbed at his head and a few of the choicer scathing remarks 
about uncuteness mustered on the tip of his tongue, but then she 
wrinkled her nose at him and smiled. He _hated_ it when she did that. 
**She is so damn cute...**
     “Sounds fine,” he said, and the scathing remarks fled in terror 
before her wrinkling nose. She smiled impishly again for him, and he 
began to suspect that she knew just exactly what that little nose 
wrinkle of hers did to him. She helped him to his feet and kissed him 
briefly upon his lips; all the sweeter for it’s brevity. 


     Minhiriath let Ryoga stew for awhile before speaking.
     “Ryoga my friend, if you don’t let out some of what’s eating you, 
there won’t be anything left inside but ashes and hollow bones picked 
clean. Take this from someone who has lived a very long time.”
     Ryoga looked up at him. His eyes were blazing red bloodshot.
     “It’s hard facing a reality you’ve worked so hard to deny...” He 
replied quietly.
     “Is this about Akane? How she is with Ranma?”
     Ryoga nodded slowly. “How did you know?” He tapped at his 
temple and gave him a questioning look.
     “No Ryoga, I don’t read people’s minds without their consent.” 
Minhiriath offered him a hand to pull him to his feet. “I have heard you 
whisper that name several times in your sleep.”
     Ryoga accepted his hand and stood.
     “I have loved her since the day we met. Ranma treated her like 
dirt. He insulted her, he ran around with other girls, he never 
appreciated her for how beautiful she was -inside and out. I always 
tried to prove how worthy I was of her love, hoping that she would 
see it and come to love me back.”
     He looked away and a tear fell down his face. He wiped at it 
fiercely, ashamed at his weakness. 
     “But she loved him anyway... Even if she couldn’t tell him... I 
saw it and I didn’t want to believe it. He loved her back, even if he 
couldn’t admit it to himself. But I saw how much he did. I saw that 
and didn’t want to believe it. Even if he did love her, he wasn’t 
worthy of it for the things he’d done. I thought I was worthy, that 
it would make a difference.”
     He bit back a sob. Instead he crushed a stone into powder with 
his bare hand. Minhiriath noted the drops of blood that mingled with 
the white stone powder and made a sanguine mud at his feet.
     “I tried to deny it...” He went on in a bitter voice. “Last winter 
I saw it for the first time. How much they loved each other, openly, 
each knowing the other’s feelings. They were so happy together, and I 
knew that I had lost her for good... So I went away to China to try and 
find the cure for my curse.”
     He stopped speaking and trembled. Minhiriath sensed that he had 
the power to raze the ruins even unto the ground. He was struggling 
with those demonic forces of jealousy and hatred inside him even now.
     “Why then? What did you hope to accomplish that you chose the 
middle of winter for your search?” Minhiriath asked him. Better to get 
him talking again before he exploded. Depression fueled his power, the 
Maia could see it building within him. He needed an out, one that 
wouldn’t set off seismographs in Bombay.
     “Akane doesn’t know about my curse,” Ryoga muttered. “To her, 
the little black pig that she loves is just a pet. I was content to be 
her pet, just so I could feel her love in some small way... I knew that 
Ranma was going to ask her to marry him when the war ended. He 
knew about my curse and yet he never told her. But I knew he 
wouldn’t tolerate me as Akane’s pet. My life as P-Chan and the 
love of Akane ended with that Christmas Eve. Going to China was just 
going to make that end irreversible. It would be easier for all of us 
that way.”
     Minhiriath nodded and gave him a squeeze of his shoulder.
     “So why the fight, Ryoga? What was that going to accomplish?”
     Ryoga grit his teeth.
     “I begrudge Ranma his love for her. Even if it hurts to admit it to 
myself. But having sex with her before they are married...?! That was 
the lowest degradation he could possibly do to her. She was so 
innocent and pure... He despoiled her... I hate him for it.”
     “Marriage customs vary around the world Ryoga. In many senses 
it is only a formality between two people who have already decided 
to share their lives until the end of their days. I confess that I see 
such a bond between Ranma and Akane. That they choose to express that 
joining of lives with a physical joining is no despoilment of her.”
     “It’s wrong...” Ryoga growled. “He should have proposed to her 
a long time ago and been married already.”
     “Then you must hate Akane as well as Ranma,” Minhiriath replied 
sternly. “For she chose to make love to him as much as he chose to 
make love to her. You cannot hate the one for his choice without 
hating the other. To do so would be to veil yourself in more delusions 
and lies. I do not think your soul can long endure the weight of 
another layer of deception.”
     Ryoga barked out that sob that had long been building up inside 
him. His breath caught in stutters, and he clutched at himself and 
shook.
     “I can’t hate her...” He cried. “But I can’t go on like this 
either...”
     Minhiriath felt the young man’s depression balloon out of control. 
Ryoga was spiraling down into self-destruction. He could sense very 
strongly that Ryoga was prepared to end his life. Soon. He had to 
act, else he would lose Ryoga for all time.
     Restraining him would not help; it would only spark a rage that 
could not hope to contain him, and would end only in his death. 
There was something else. It was the only shred of hope in his life, 
but he was incapable of reaching for it in his current state. He 
needed someone to throw it to him.
     As Ryoga fell to his knees and wept, Minhiriath gathered 
himself up from within. Such as what he was attempting he had 
not done in an age; the very breaking down of a person’s psychic 
defenses with all of the subtlety and power of a wrecking ball. As 
hard as he could, he formed the image in his mind, gathered up 
from the little snippets he’d collected from what spilled from 
Ryoga’s head in the past week. He did not actively read people’s 
minds, but surface thoughts and dreams spilled forth for those 
who could see them. He took hold of Ryoga’s shoulders and let fly.

                             ^AKARI!!!!^

     The name rocked across Ryoga’s soul, followed by the images 
of her from his dreams. Sweet, loving, unassuming, and gentle 
Akari. She who loved him unconditionally. The beautiful girl who 
would wait until the end of the world for him.
     He was not worthy of her love, he told himself, but she gave 
all of her heart to him anyway.
     Ryoga dropped down into a ball, face pressed down into the cold 
dew of the grass. His tears mingled with the dew. His breaths came 
hot and rapid. The sobs died away after awhile. Minhiriath looked on 
with relief. He was pulling himself back from the brink.
     “Though she does not ask anything more of you than yourself, if 
there was ever a woman to prove your worthiness to, I would say it 
was her.” He told Ryoga. “Spend yourself in something fine and 
enduring, my friend.”
     Ryoga looked up at him. Tears continued to spill down his face, 
but his countenance was peaceful. What hatred that burned within 
him could not abide by the feelings that welled from his heart, 
burning so fiercely that the hatred was itself consumed.
     “This world would weep to see you leave it so soon,” Minhiriath 
told him. “There are many within this camp alone who would weep 
as well, and Ranma Saotome would be one of them.”
     Ryoga nodded, at once realizing that it was true. He flushed red 
with shame at the memory of their fight only minutes ago. Ranma 
hadn’t wanted to fight him, but he had been blinded by the rage 
and couldn’t see it for what it was. Ranma had insisted that they 
were friends, even in spite of what had transpired.
     His thoughts drifted to a bitter November morning in Korea. 
Kuno lay half dead at their feet, and they were lost in No-Man’s 
land. All they had was each other.


     *He had come up with a crude stretcher using two long branches 
and the fatigues of their dead comrades. Ranma lay Kuno upon it, 
and together they picked up the fallen swordsman.
     "He's bad, isn't he." He had said. It was a statement, not a 
question.
     "Yeah..."
     "Anything we can do for him?"
     "I don't think so. I put a dressing on him, but he needs surgery. 
And blood, he's almost bled white."
     "We gotta keep him warm, I took Nomura's jacket."
     "Yeah..."
     "Ranma?"
     "What is it?"
     "Do you know where you're going?"
     "Yeah..."
     They walked in silence. Ranma didn't care about snipers anymore, 
they were as good as dead no matter who caught them. He still had 
his carbine, but that was the only weapon they had left.
     "Ranma?"
     "Yeah?"
     "Why did you come out here after us?"
     Ranma was silent a little longer.
     "I came out looking for _you,_ Ryoga."
     "Me? Why? We've been enemies all our lives."
     "'Cause you're the only friend I got right now..."*


     His mind moved forward a few weeks to an icy ridge of the 
Taebaek Range. The snow flurried around them, concealing the 
terrible deaths they had inflicted upon their enemies. Ryoga 
remembered how sick he wanted to be, and remembered that 
Ranma had shared that look. 


     *He nodded as Ranma and Hiro joined him. His M-60 
steamed as flakes of snow melted upon the barrel. Flecks of 
red speckled his face and fatigues. His face was a gaunt mask, 
in some ways mirroring their own.
     "You okay, Ryoga?" Ranma had asked him.
     "I'm fine, Ranma." He had replied flatly. "Thanks for asking," 
he had added.
     Ranma tipped his helmet back with the muzzle of his rifle. "You're 
my friend, Ryoga. Whether you like it or not."
     He started marching as the team moved out. "Heh... It's 
something I need to get used to, Ranma."
     "Take your time," Ranma finished with a wave of his hand.*


     “I’ve taken enough time...” Ryoga said to himself.



                      *       *       *



     “We need to work on your speed,” Ranma observed as he 
continued to effortlessly dodge Akane’s attacks.
     Akane lashed out with another spin kick. Ranma caught her 
ankle and flipped her into the air. She screamed in surprise and 
then once again as Ranma got underneath her and caught her 
before she could hit the ground.
     “Yup, that’s the first thing we need to take care of,” he told 
her evenly as he cradled her.
     Akane gave him a dirty look and slugged him across the jaw.
     “Gotcha that time!” She huffed.
     Ranma set her on her feet and rubbed at his jaw. 
     Hiro and Nabiki were sitting together watching them from one of 
the walls of the ruins. Hiro laughed as she struck him. Nabiki offered 
encouragement to her little sister. The songbirds sang an appropriate 
inspirational piece, Gliere’s Heroic March.
     “I already know that you hit as hard as a piledriver,” he told her. 
“But if you can’t connect, then all that brute strength ain’t doing you 
no good. People ain’t stacks of bricks, you know; they try to keep 
from getting hit.”
     “So you’re saying that I’m no good?” Akane asked him. There 
was hurt in her voice.
     “I didn’t say that!” Ranma protested. “Out of practice maybe, 
but I’ve seen what you can do, Akane. All those fights every 
morning at school when I first started living at the dojo... You 
were outnumbered fifty to one by guys who were sometimes two 
or three times bigger than you. You wiped them out in minutes.” 
He set his hands on his hips and looked at her. “You make the call.”
     Her expression brightened.
     “Okay, but I’m not nearly as good as you, so what are you going 
to do about that?”
     He smiled. “I’m gonna make you faster.”
     “I thought you were supposed to be practicing fighting _together?_” 
Nabiki called to him. The songbirds chirped in agreement upon the 
wall at her side. 
     Ranma looked at the two hecklers and their little chorus sitting 
on the wall. 
     “I have to practice _against_ her to see what she can and can’t do. 
Then I gotta work _with_ her to improve her weak areas. _Then_ we 
can practice fighting as one.”
     He turned back to Akane and whispered. “At the end of every day 
we train I promise to fight together with you. We’ll practice the Moko 
Takabisha together too, ‘cause it worked great when we did it in Paris, 
and I want to see what we can really do.”
     Akane beamed at him, and her smile caught him speechless for a 
moment.
     He returned to his senses, and moved close against Akane’s body.
     Nabiki gave them a wolf-whistle, which made Hiro laugh again, 
and the songbirds echoed. Ranma ignored them with a huff, but even 
Akane giggled softly to herself.
     “Move through a kick slowly,” he told her.
     Akane popped up on her toes as she threw out the kick in slow 
motion. Ranma felt her body move against his through the kick; 
noting the subtle nuances of muscle groups, limb extension, balance, 
and focus. He realized what she was doing wrong.
     “Hmmm...” He murmured. “Do that again, a little faster this time.”
     She looked over her shoulder and up at him. He waited patiently, 
staying tight against her body, ready to follow her motion with his 
own. She threw out the kick again, a bit faster than before. He 
closed his eyes and moved through the kick with her, visualizing 
what she was doing through her motion against him.
     He was certain now. 
     “Okay, I know what the problem is here.”
     Akane looked at him. “What is it?”
     “It’s hard to explain in words, so just move with me like I was 
doing with you, and I’ll talk you through it.”
     “What’s wrong with my kick?” She pressed, just a little hostility 
in her voice.
     “Nothing’s really _wrong_ with it, it’s just that there’s room for 
improvement. To make you faster and harder to read. Now move 
through the kick with me and feel the way I move.”
     She pressed close to him and he launched into a kick so slow 
and graceful it was more like ballet than martial arts. Akane moved 
with him, and after several such kicks she began to understand how 
he was doing it. He stood away from her then and watched her 
practice in slow motion on her own. There was already marked 
improvement.
     “Go Akane!” Nabiki cheered. Even she had caught the change; 
the sudden grace her sister possessed. Without the usual overblown 
High Octane Akane Horsepower, her kick was every bit as beautiful 
as Ranma’s.
     “I want you to remember how to throw that kick. Practice it a 
little bit faster each time until you can do it full speed every time. 
Don’t put any power into it yet, we’ll work on that later.” Ranma 
told her. “You keep learnin’ this stuff so quickly and it won’t be 
long till we get all of your moves at least twice as fast.”
     They practiced that way for the rest of the day; with Ranma 
analyzing each strike, block, and dodge with that same intimate 
attention to her body. From there he would walk her through the 
move, and then leave her to practice it on her own. They took no 
breaks, but continued on until the sun was getting low in the sky and 
he high mountain chill began in earnest. Akane wouldn’t rest until she 
learned as much as she could.


     Ryoga watched from the trees that encroached upon that part 
of the ruins of Tiahuanaco where they trained. He couldn’t help but 
smile with pride for Akane’s skill and newfound grace. He watched 
Ranma train her, displaying a patience and understanding that had 
been unthinkable three years ago. He smiled at that too, and realized 
that Ranma had changed and grown since the days of his vendetta 
against the pig-tailed martial artist.
     It was he who had resisted that growth, had struggled against 
change. He was only now beginning to appreciate what he had lost 
as a result. This time he didn’t put the blame on anyone else, nor 
even himself. It was time to move past the blame and get on with 
his life. 
     He nodded his head to Ranma in salute, and left them. Ranma 
didn’t see it, but perhaps for the moment it was better that way. 
There would be time for that later.


     “Okay, one more thing we gotta do today before we call it quits,” 
Ranma told her as she whipped through a full speed form that was twice 
as fast as before. She still couldn’t touch him in a sparring match, but 
he could see how quickly she had improved.
     Akane bowed respectfully for Ranma as she completed her form. 
It was a bow of the student to the teacher. Ranma shrugged and bowed 
back. 
     “You don’t have to do that you know,” he told her. “You don’t have 
to bow to me. It doesn’t seem right somehow.”
     “You’ve helped me improve more in one day than I have learned in 
years of practice, Ranma.” Akane replied. “You’re a wonderful teacher. 
I can see why the dojo was doing so well while you were helping dad 
with the classes.”
     Ranma shrugged again. “Okay. I guess if you want to you can, just 
don’t think that you _have_ to or something.”
     “Think that I _have_ to bow to the great Ranma Saotome?” Akane 
laughed. “Perish the thought! I’m doing it because I choose to.”
     He laughed with her, and then stood close to her side. 
     He took her right hand in his left and brought his right out to 
his chest. It was a familiar pose with her, and she took her own 
position for what was to follow. Her heart began to race in 
anticipation.
     “We were rushed the last time we did this,” he said. “But this 
time there’s no hurry, so I want you to pay attention to what’s going 
on inside you. Feel it through like we did everything else today. And 
remember: you can do this! Confidence in yourself is everything for 
this attack.”
     He began the buildup within himself. Akane felt that part of him 
inside of her glow with power. She closed her eyes and looked within 
herself, then expanded her focus to include Ranma at her side and in 
her hand. She saw how the power built up within him, glorious in it’s 
beauty, and felt the power begin to rush from her and into their hands.
They let it go into the air, a brilliant lance of ki energy that shot 
across the purpling sky like golden lightning. It wasn’t nearly as 
powerful as the blast they had thrown in Paris, because Ranma wanted 
to show her the technique first. Power would come later, once she had 
mastered it within herself.
     “That’s it for today,” he told her as the last of the ki sparkled 
away into the darkness. “You did great, Akane.”
     She hugged him tightly.
     “Thank you, Ranma.”
     He squeezed her in return. 
     “You’re the girl I’m gonna marry,” he whispered to her. “Gotta 
make this an equal partnership.”



                         Chapter Two



     Ivan Tarchenko looked across the icy flat-top of the Russian 
nuclear powered aircraft carrier Moskva, and to the men who 
braved the freezing seaspray to brush away the ice that formed on 
the tarps that covered the helicopters tied down to the deck. The 
men worked long push brooms over the tarps as others pushed 
the ice and slush over the side. Moskva pitched slowly, with great 
inertia, as it steamed along through icy waters the color of steel.
     The sky was the color of lead, lending it’s metallic ambiance to 
the sea. They had come through a squall only last night, and the men 
on the troopships were badly seasick. Moskva had weathered the 
storm well because of it’s great mass. It was no American Nimitz 
class, but it was still one of the largest warships in the world.
     Fyodor was standing next to him in the Vulture Loft, a lookout 
balcony in the ‘island’ superstructure that probed above the flight 
deck. He was smoking a strong Turkish cigarette, the kind that 
Tarchenko had recently become fond of. His dark eyes were lost 
under the heavy brow and equally dark forelocks.
     “You are no man of the sea, Fyodor,” Tarchenko said to him. 
It was far from the truth; Fyodor had once fished the Black Sea as 
a boy. Before he joined the Soviet Naval Infantry and became 
Spetznaz. 
     “Vye nepravye,” Fyodor replied, smoke spilling from his mouth. 
You’re wrong.
     “I am trying to provoke a reaction from you, Fyodor. You have 
been far too quiet on this voyage, even for you.”
     “I am wondering if I will see them again where we are going...” 
Fyodor grumbled.
     “Who?”
     “The boy with the pig-tail and his woman.”
     Tarchenko decided to light up. Smoke obscured his face as he 
replied.
     “I expect you will. They are the Wayfinders after all, for all of 
the good it did us.”
     “I will enjoy killing them,” he muttered. “I have been thinking 
about how I will do it since Paris.”
     “When the time comes kill them and be done with it,” Tarchenko 
advised. “They are too dangerous to toy with. I would have thought 
Paris had taught you that lesson already. The same goes for Casimir. 
Kill him and be done with it. Quickly. He is an old man and though 
he has betrayed us, he should have a quick death.”
     Fyodor took in a long drag on his cigarette.
     “What is this adventure costing your employers?” He asked as his 
dark gaze looked out upon the fleet spread out around Moskva.
     “Yeltsin is too busy trying to get reelected to notice that some of 
his admirals are tasking this force without his knowledge. By the time 
he does, it will be a _fait accompli_ for us.”
     “And you think the UN will tolerate our seizing of a part of 
Antarctica? We have signed a treaty declaring the continent to be free 
for all nations and owned by none.”
     “Your jokes fail to amuse me, Fyodor. You know as well as I that 
once we have the Heart of the World that the old order of things will 
cease to be. Power goes to the strong. The timid have no place here.”
     “And will the Americans tolerate us so close to one of their 
research stations? McMurdo is very close to Ross Island. They are 
watching us. With their satellites at the least.”
     “Once again, by the time they realize what we are doing, it will be 
too late.”



                        *       *       *



     Night had fallen once again in the ruins of Tiahuanaco. The Maia 
were having one final celebration. Tomorrow they would strike camp 
and begin their trek to the Crown of Eternity. 
     Ranma and Akane walked hand in hand through the dancing and 
singing throngs of Maia. They were looking for Nimatar’s camp, as 
that was where all of their friends were. They were not disappointed.
     They found Professor McFogg, Doctor Casimir, and Mister Clay 
at their usual place with Nimatar. Aerandir was there with Anazali 
and Minhiriath. Nabiki danced with Hiro. Kuno chatted with one 
of the Maia about swordsmanship; each man brandishing his blade 
and moving through forms in slow motion to demonstrate their points. 
Ferguson and Katy Price were dancing to a lively tune close by, the 
first time they had seen the two ever get along so well. 
     Heironymous Durango and D-Day were here as well. Bettie’s Dare 
had set down in Lake Titicaca yesterday. The two pilots were drinking 
wine and flirting with young ladies of Maia heritage. 
     The only one missing was Ryoga. Ever since the fight he had been 
keeping his distance. Ranma didn’t sense hostility or resentment from 
the man any more, but for some reason Ryoga was staying away. He 
decided to let it be. Ryoga would talk when he was ready. He hoped.
     “<Ah! There you are!>” McFogg said to Ranma and Akane. 
“<Come join us for just a minute of your time.>”
     Ranma and Akane did so. Chairs appeared for them without a 
word from a pair of girls in Nimatar’s household. Silver cups of wine 
were set before them.
     “<I wanted to say good-bye for now, and I haven’t had the chance 
to do so until now,>” the Professor told them.
     “<Good-bye?>” Akane asked him.
     “<Yes. Just for a little while. Nimatar has graciously allowed us 
to set up our equipment for the Heart of the World’s arrival, and I must 
fly back to London at first light to make the necessary preparations. 
I’m afraid this adventure has almost reached it’s conclusion. I’m almost 
sorry to see it end, as I have grown rather fond of your company. I 
leave you in the capable hands of Aerandir.>”
     Aerandir nodded in agreement. “Tomorrow morning we set sail for 
the Crown of Eternity. We must leave before dawn for the coast.”
     “Set sail?” Ranma asked.
     “We have several days before the Heart of the World’s arrival, 
and I have received news that my brother is no longer in my uncle’s 
house. It would safest for you and Akane that you accompany me as 
I sail to Antarctica. My power is uncontested upon the sea.”
     Akane latched onto Ranma’s arm. “Oh come on Ranma, it’ll be fun!”
     He gave her a questioning look. She returned with one that said she 
wasn’t taking ‘no’ for an answer. He decided that there were definitely 
some battles better avoided.
     “Okay, I guess we’ll go.”
     “Good!” Akane cried. “Now that we’ve established who’s in charge 
here, I want to dance!”
     “Who said anything about _you_ being in cha---AAARRGE?!?!”
     She pulled Ranma to his feet and out into the circle in mid reply. 
Ranma gave a surprised yelp and followed at a stumble after her. 
The ancient Nimatar laughed at the display as he stroked at his long 
red beard. 
     “I have the feeling this occurs with great frequency between them,” 
he observed.



     Later that evening Tatewaki Kuno found Nabiki sitting atop a low 
wall on the fringes of the celebration. She had a glass of wine dangling 
in her hand and a faraway look in her eyes. Her songbirds were singing 
along with the musicians. Maia danced and sang in their beautiful 
language.
     She noted his appearance with a casual flick of her mahogany bob 
of hair and flashed him the faintest smile. She watched him fold his arms 
across his chest from beneath the folds of a dark grey cloak lent to him 
by Urthel. He was meaning to say something to her, and she found his 
silence exasperating.
     “Does the cat have thy tongue, Tate-chan?” She asked him when 
she couldn’t stand the silence any longer.
     Kuno’s eyes trembled for a moment at the mention of her pet name 
for him. It was enough to jar him out of his reflection. He looked up at 
her, and in that moment a chill breeze made her shiver.
     “Art thou cold, Nabiki?”
     Nabiki clicked her tongue. It wasn’t quite what she was expecting 
from him, but it was a start. She was used to working with very little 
where Kuno was concerned. She hopped down from the wall, and 
set her glass of wine upon it.
     “That cloak looks very warm,” she told him. 
     Kuno began to take it off. She stopped him with a touch of her 
hand on his chest.
     “I thought maybe we could share. No sense in making you cold, 
eh Tate-chan?”
     Kuno froze up. Nabiki wasted no time in lifting his arm and 
settling close to his side. She put his arm around her waist as she 
put her own around his. The cloak settled over her shoulders, but all 
the warmth came from Tatewaki Kuno.
     “Nabiki...” he managed. He was probably going to say something 
about propriety and her lack of decorum, but the words failed him.
     “I thought we might take a walk for awhile while you get up the 
nerve to speak to me,” she told him. She began to lead him away 
from the camp. Kuno followed at her side, and she smiled as his hand 
became a little firmer around her waist.
     They walked in silence for about twenty minutes, wandering through 
the ruins of the city of Tiahuanaco. Nabiki didn’t mind the silence now, 
as she had Kuno right where she wanted him. For once she was glad 
her girls hadn’t tagged along. They probably knew that she didn’t want 
a chaperone.
     “Nabiki,” Kuno said suddenly. “Know that I am going off to fight 
in what will certainly be a great battle...”
     “I thought they were going to try and work this out,” Nabiki 
remarked.
     “I fear that words will be to no avail,” he replied. “We gird 
ourselves for war and yet talk of peace? Nay, we shall fight.”
     There was something about his tone that bothered her. 
     “You want to fight, don’t you?”
     He nodded his head. “Such a battle may likely be the greatest of 
the age. How could the Blue Thunder not be a part of it?”
     “If the Blue Thunder likes breathing, he might reconsider!” Nabiki 
threw back. “You realize that if there is a fight, you could get killed?”
     “I am aware of that possibility.”
     “I don’t want to hear about how you’re so brave in the face of 
death, Tatewaki. I know how crazy and foolish you are. If you go 
and get yourself killed I--” She caught herself. She needed to be r
easonable here, this was just her emotions flowing, and if she wasn’t 
careful she’d say something she might regret.
     “It doesn’t matter I guess,” she finished. “I’ll be there anyway to 
keep you out of too much trouble.”
     Kuno tensed at her side.
     “I forbid it.”
     “What?” Nabiki snorted. “You forbid it? Since when do _you_ tell 
me what to do?”
     He stopped walking and turned her to face him. One hand stayed 
at her waist while the other came up to brush gently at her face. Her 
eyes were huge and bright in the moonlight, and she nearly held her 
breath with his surprisingly gentle show of affection.
     “I could not devote myself to the task at hand knowing that you 
might be in peril somewhere, Nabiki. Though your spirit burns fiercely 
in thy heart, it is not the warrior’s spirit. Thou wouldst have no place 
in such a battle as will come.”
     “I’ll be okay. I know how to take care of myself,” she retorted 
calmly. Her heart was racing in any event.
     “Nabiki...” Kuno began. He searched for the words as he brushed 
at her face again, marveling at how soft and warm it was in the evening 
chill. “As I have told you before, I am fond of thee, and could not bear 
the thought of even the slightest injury to your lovely and noble person...” 
     Nabiki put her hand upon his and squeezed it.
     “Tatewaki, I told you I’ll be fine. I’ll just hang back with the 
Professor and the rest of the scientists and let you martial arts types 
duke it out with Sarophan.”
     “You do not understand me, Nabiki.” He closed his eyes. “Your 
death would destroy me...” His hand came away from her waist and 
clenched into a fist at the thought.
     Her eyes flashed brilliantly with moonlight on the moisture that f
ormed there.
     “Y-You mean that?” She asked him. “You’re not just saying that 
to be dramatic?”
     Kuno looked away from her.
     “You of all who know me should realize that I do not speak lightly 
nor in jest.”
     “Oh Tate-chan... I don’t know what to say...”
     “Say that you will fly home to Japan in the morning,” Kuno told her. 
“I have made arrangements with Master Aerandir to see you home. I 
will be able to fight as best as I may knowing that you are safe at home.”
     “I’m coming with you Tate-chan.” She silenced his rebuke with a 
touch of her finger to his lips. “Don’t even argue about it. Just think 
about this: who’s going to patch you up when this is over? Who 
_always_ takes care of you after a fight? Me! I take care of you! 
I’m not handing you over to someone else so I can sit ‘safe at home’ 
waiting and worrying about everyone -and especially you! Got it?!” 
She poked him in the forehead a few times in the hopes that her 
words might actually sink into his thick skull.
     He looked at her sternly. She glared back at him with knit brow, 
and was about to repeat herself at full volume when he sighed. It was 
the standard Tatewaki Kuno Knuckles Under to Nabiki Tendo Sigh. 
Victory was hers.
     **And to the victor go the spoils...** She thought with a sudden 
smile.
     “Okay Tate-chan, this is the part where you are overcome with 
joy over my devotion to you, and you take me up into your arms...”
     He twitched once, overwhelmed by her as usual, then put his hands 
on her shoulders.
     “But remember,” she added wryly. “I bruise easily.”



                     *       *       *



     Aerandir and his party of Ranma, Akane, Hiro, Nabiki, Kuno, 
Ryoga, Anazali, and Minhiriath reached the coastal city of Mollendo 
by midmorning. It was a long drive down the winding roads from the 
mountains, and they were glad to be free again. Especially Aerandir, 
who hated any mode of transportation that wasn’t walking or sailing.
The three black Mercedes sedans drove back towards the Andes 
as they made their way down a narrow waterfront way to the piers. 
A large fishing fleet was based here, and the smells and the sounds 
were overwhelming. Aerandir of course was right at home.
     “Will we all fit on Kelebros?” Nabiki asked him.
     Aerandir chuckled. “Not comfortably.”
     “Then I’m missing something here.”
     Aerandir placed a hand on her shoulder. “Patience, Nabiki. 
You’ll see in just a moment.”
     They rounded a tall fish cannery that sat right on the water before 
they saw it. A gorgeous sailing ship; three masted with long daring 
lines and a hull painted a snowy white. Men in blue and white striped 
shirts and wide brimmed straw hats with yellow ribbons streaming 
down the back manned the rails waiting for their Master to return.
     “Oh my God, Aerandir!” Nabiki cried in awe. 
     Akane gave Ranma a squeeze at the thought of riding such a ship.
     Ranma rolled his eyes, but then figured that if Akane was happy, 
who was he to argue?
     Hiro whistled appreciatively. Then he remembered that he got seasick.
     Ryoga grunted. He was never much for ships. Especially considering 
that they put him so close to the water...
     Kuno nodded his head in approval. Here was a vessel even finer 
than Kelebros.
     “Welcome to the Star of the West!” He cried, gesturing to his ship. 
“I own several sailing ships. Kelebros is my favorite, as I usually sail 
alone, but in this case I will be traveling with many companions. Those 
companions need and deserve a little more room than my humble 
ketch can provide.”
     At the sight of Aerandir, a Master at Arms began bellowing at the 
crew, who snapped to attention. A black and white pennant was run 
down the mainmast, indicating that the ship’s master had returned. A 
bosun piped them aboard as they crossed the brow.
     “We shall weigh anchor at noon,” Aerandir told his Quartermaster. 
“See that the ship is rigged for sea.”
     “Aye aye, Captain.”
     Ranma and the others watched as the sharply dressed crew took 
their luggage to staterooms below. Others climbed the skyladders to 
the reach the highest reef stays while still more squared away ropes 
and line, and other gear on deck.
     “Where did you find the crew?” Nabiki asked Aerandir as they 
showed the others to their staterooms.
     “Fiddler’s Green,” Aerandir replied. 
     Nabiki cocked her head. “Excuse me?”
     “Patience Nabiki, all will be revealed.”
     Nabiki put her hands on her hips. “Does this mean they’re all ghosts, 
too?”
     Aerandir smiled. “You could look at it that way.”
     “So why can I see them now, and not the ones on Kelebros?”
     “The Heart of the World is close. Wonderful things can happen 
my dear Nabiki.”
     Nabiki watched the crew make preparations to get underway. 
They seemed so real, so solid, their voices were a medley of tongues 
across the ages. **They seemed so full of life! How could they be 
dead?**
     “Do they know they’re dead?” She asked.
     Aerandir laughed.
     “Whoever said they were dead?” He chuckled warmly and patted 
her shoulder. “Tell me Nabiki, what _is_ death?” She gave him a 
confused look, and he laughed again. “I like to think that they have 
left the world you know but have not yet passed into the next. But if 
you must know, yes, they are aware of their passing... My crew are 
all volunteers who have signed on with me for this voyage. It is an 
honor for them to sail with me, and I am honored to have such a fine 
crew of Jack-Tars.”
     Nabiki nodded silently as she watched them work. They were all 
sharply attired in Aerandir’s uniform, despite the fact that some of 
them were Phoenician sailors from 3000 years ago; others were men 
who had fought at Sicily; The English Channel with and against the 
Armada; Trafalgar; Jutland; the Coral Sea; and those that rode the 
raging Spanish Main. There were even a couple bewildered submariners 
from the Wahoo and the Tang, and two first class seamen from 
Arizona who wore sailor’s white hats tipped rakishly to the sides 
of their heads; they were given a line to take turns on in short order.
     The Quartermaster appeared before Aerandir. Nabiki hadn’t even 
seen him before he appeared next to the Maia. 
     “The ship is ready to get underway, Captain.”
     Aerandir looked up at the sun, which was at it’s zenith for this 
latitude and time of year.
     “Very well,” he said crisply. “Weigh anchor; cast us off Mister 
Fisher!”
     “Weigh anchor; cast off, aye aye!” The Quartermaster replied 
heartily. “Weigh anchor! Cast off all lines!” He bellowed.
     Tatewaki Kuno appeared on deck. He was wearing some type of 
officer’s uniform and looking extremely handsome to Nabiki’s eyes. 
His sword hung at his side and the gold braid on his shoulders gleamed 
in the sunlight. A large plumed hat adorned his head. 
     “Ah, Blue Thunder!” Aerandir cried happily. “I see you have attired 
yourself suitably for your position as mate!”
     “I await thy orders, Master Aerandir,” he said with a bow.
     “On the foc’sle please, Blue Thunder. I shall have need of you on 
the conn shortly, though.”
     Kuno nodded and headed forward to the foc’sle as the ghost sailors 
began to turn the windlass that raised the anchor and others cast off the 
mooring lines. They began singing a chanty to make the work go faster, 
with one of them standing on the capstan and leading. The Quartermaster 
began bellowing for them to put their backs into it, only to be merrily 
riposted by the windlass gang to the effect that they didn’t really 
_have_ backs anymore. At least they were taking the afterlife well.
     Ranma and Akane came on deck. Ranma was wearing his red silk 
Chinese shirt and black trousers. Akane was wearing a cape over a 
winter weight dress, and a big floppy hat. Ranma saw Kuno dressed 
as some 18th Century British naval officer and laughed heartily. Kuno 
ignored Ranma and strutted forward.
     “Be quick about it!” Bellowed the Quartermaster to the crew. 
They replied with a bawdy sea chanty that mocked him.
     Star of the West was cast off to the sounds of whistle blasts from 
the fishing fleet around the harbor. Men cheered for the ship in Spanish 
as the crew manned the skysails and unfurled the silvery canvas with 
great cracks as the wind filled them. Aerandir brought forth the 
necessary following wind, and the ship began to pull away from the 
pier. His personal colors rose up the mainmast, the bright blue ensign 
standing against the noonday sky.
     “Keep a sharp watch Blue Thunder!” Aerandir called to Kuno on t
he foc’sle.
     “Kuno’s helping?” Ranma asked Akane worriedly. “We’re doomed!”
     “He’s not a bad sailor under Aerandir,” Nabiki replied tartly.
     “Oooohhh! Defending him are we?” Ranma taunted. Nabiki’s 
songbirds chirped laughter from a set of belaying pins around the 
mainmast.
     “Hush your fiancé dear sister,” Nabiki told Akane. “Before I forget 
that I am a lady.” She shot the songbirds a look, and they meekly went 
silent. But not for long.
     “Struck a nerve I see,” Ranma guffawed. Right before Akane 
elbowed him full force in the ribs. He managed to gasp out, “I’ll shut 
up now,” before nearly falling to his knees. Clearly there were 
disadvantages to improving your fiancée’s martial arts abilities, but 
he was only now starting to understand this.
     Hiro came up on deck with Ryoga steadying him. The two headed 
straight for the rail. Hiro was looking quite green about the gills.
     One of the sailors began to laugh. 
     “Oh he’s a lovely sight!” he cackled gleefully in his 19th Century 
waterfront Hong Kong British accent. “This bein’ th’ gentle Pacific 
ye see. Just imagine him tossin’ to an’ fro in the Irish Sea!” 
     “Or rounding the Horn in the middle o’ winter!” Another called 
from the skysail.
     “Soon enough for that, mates!” A third replied with a deep bass 
laugh. “Soon enough for that!”
     The other sailors began to laugh merrily.
     Hiro decided to turn breakfast loose into the sea. This was met with 
a great cheer from the ghost sailors. He slumped back over the rail with 
Ryoga holding him steady. 
     “Oh yeah,” he said weakly. “I feel much better now...”
     Aerandir winked at Nabiki. “They always feel their oats this close 
to the Heart of the World. You’ll get used to them.”
     Nabiki laughed. “Actually I kinda like them already, Aerandir.”



                         *       *      *



     The sun of the second day at sea was setting over the vast 
emptiness of the Pacific Ocean. The sky was ablaze with every color 
imaginable; colors Ranma, Akane, and the others had never seen in 
sunset on land. Dolphins played in the waters around the Star of the 
West as it pitched gently through the waves. They made chittering 
noises to Akane, who blushed for no reason she could think of.
     “They say we’ll have good weather near the Horn,” Aerandir told 
Ranma, Akane, Nabiki and her songbirds, Ryoga, and a slowly 
recovering Hiro. “That is a good omen.”
     He looked to Akane. “They also seem to want you to join them for 
a swim while there is still a warm current in these waters!” 
     Akane looked downcast to the polished deck.
     “I can’t swim,” she said sheepishly to him. Ranma put his hands on 
her shoulders and gave her a squeeze.
     “You can’t swim?” Aerandir cried in amazement.
     “Unfortunately she’s a lead weight in the water,” Nabiki supplied.
     “Anything over her head and she sinks like rock,” Ranma added.
     “She does seem to have a little difficulty in the water,” Ryoga 
agreed.
     “He gets the point!” Akane thundered to them. They jumped back 
in surprise.
     Aerandir gave this some thought. He clapped his hands together, and 
then whistled to the dolphins that jumped and played close to the ship. 
They chittered and whistled back to him.
     “They say they will be happy to teach you,” he told Akane. 
“Although they tell me that they can’t imagine why anyone as lovely 
as yourself can’t swim.”
     “R-R-Really?” Akane asked nervously.
     “Hey, you don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Ranma whispered. 
Akane shook her head at his words.
     “I’d love to!”
     “Splendid!” Aerandir laughed. “When our business in the Crown of 
Eternity is finished, we shall have plenty of time for such things.” He 
whistled to the dolphins, and they turned triple somersaults in the air 
before disappearing beneath the waves.
     “They shall await our return to warmer waters,” he said to her and 
then went to the conn.
     “Oh Ranma! This is great!” Akane cried happily, she went to the 
rail for one last hopeful look at the dolphins. They turned on their 
backs and waved their flippers to her as they swam away.
     “Are you sure about this?” He asked her worriedly. 
     “Of course! Aerandir wouldn’t let anything happen to me.”
     “I don’t think he appreciates the situation.”
     Akane began to fume. “And what is that supposed to mean?”
     “It means I’m worried about you. This ain’t like learning at the 
pool or nothin’. Do you know how deep the ocean is?”
     “Enlighten me, Ranma,” Akane asked him brusquely.
     “Aerandir said it averaged about 3000 fathoms. That’s about 5 
kilometers deep Akane!”
     “I’ll be fine, Ranma. Have a little faith in me!”
     He looked at her. She was adamant. He threw up his hands. 
     “Fine. Just don’t expect me to come diving in after you.”
     “Ranma!” Ryoga snarled.
     “Easy Ryoga,” Ranma said evenly. “She knows me better than that.”
     Akane stuck her tongue out Ranma, who reciprocated playfully. 
Ryoga huffed and stepped away to check on Hiro. The man was 
looking better after eating saltines and drinking lots of water at 
Aerandir’s suggestion. The ghost sailors had run out of jokes for 
him and had offered a little wisdom of the sea of their own -but first 
you had to endure their centuries old sea stories on the subject of 
seasickness. Some of them were bad enough to give him a relapse on 
the spot.
     “How ya feeling?” He asked Hiro.
     Hiro gave him a thumbs up. “I think I could keep some soup down.”
     “Stupid,” Ryoga spat. “Why didn’t you go with Professor McFogg 
if you get so seasick?”
     “I really didn’t think we’d be sailing to Antarctica. I expected 
to fly.” He gestured to Ranma and Akane. “Plus I’m here to look after 
them.”
     “Ranma can take care of himself,” Ryoga muttered.
     “You’ve missed all the fun, Hibiki. The guys we’re against play for 
keeps.”
     Ryoga popped his knuckles. “So do I, Ohata.”
     “Hey thanks for asking about me,” Hiro said quietly. “I didn’t mean 
any of that stuff back in the ruins, you know.”
     Ryoga grunted. 
     “I’m past that now,” he said at last. “What matters now is finishing 
this. I want to return to Japan.”
     “How about your curse?”
     Ryoga bared a fang for him. “What about it?”
     “Didn’t Ranma tell you?”
     “I haven’t really spoken to him since that day.”
     “Anazali says he can get his curse lifted at the Heart of the World. 
I don’t see why you couldn’t as well.”
     Ryoga snorted. “I guess I have a reason to talk to Ranma now...”
     “Oh man, not another fight!” Hiro pleaded. “Not when I’m sick!”
     “I’m going to talk, Ohata. Not fight.”
     “I’ve heard that before. I’ve never heard the whole story between 
you two, but I think it’s a little ridiculous sometimes that you’re 
always at each other’s throats.”
     Ryoga popped his knuckles again.
     “Maybe. But then you weren’t there for any of it.”
     Hiro sighed. “Sometimes I’m sorry I missed it.”


     Nabiki joined Aerandir on the conn with Kuno. Her songbirds 
were singing for the swordsman, but it was difficult to tell if he 
approved. The young looking but centuries deceased sailor at the 
helm had a faraway look in his eyes. 
     Minhiriath was on deck taking a sighting on the rising moon with 
an astrolabe. The astronomer announced his observations to Anazali, 
who showed the charts to Aerandir. The mariner didn’t need the chart 
to know where he was, but took a look for decorum’s sake.
     “We should be nearing the Horn very soon,” Aerandir said to 
Kuno. “From there we should reach the ice shelf surrounding the 
Crown of Eternity by morning. I want you to have the men keep a 
careful lookout for icebergs. Just because they have passed on 
from this world, there is no need to get complacent.”
     Kuno nodded solemnly. He was fully immersed into his role 
as the mate.
     The sunset came with a flash of green light that awed them. 
     “I wish dear Ukyo were here to see this,” Aerandir said quietly. 
“I told her about it once while we sailed upon the Aegean.”
     Nabiki began to sniffle, and turned away to hide it.
     “Fear not Nabiki,” Aerandir said then. “We shall see Ukyo safe 
and sound.”
     “I hope so Aerandir,” she whispered.
     A voice rang out from the Crow’s Nest.
     “Cape Horn bearing three points off the port beam!” The lookout 
cried.
     “Ship bearing two points off the bow to starboard, hull-down, 
on the horizon!” A lookout on the foc’sle cried a moment later. 
“She flies a black banner.”
     The ghost crew began to gather around on deck and whistle 
a cheerful tune. One of them produced a squeeze-box while another 
rosined up the bow for his fiddle. Aerandir slipped his flute out of
his striped tunic and set them to the appropriate score. Nabiki’s 
songbirds joined in without a moment’s hesitation.
     Ranma and the others joined them on the afterdeck to see what 
the big deal was.
     “Welcome to Cape Horn,” Aerandir told them. “A treacherous 
passage around the tip of Argentina that took many ships to the 
bottom, ere the Panama Canal came into being. Because the Heart 
of the World is so close, one can often see those vessels that were 
lost on this night.”
     He began to sing, and the ghost crew joined him.

“All around old Cape Horn,
Ships of the line, ships of the morn.
Some of whom wish they’d never been born,
They are the Ghosts of Cape Horn.”

     The ship closed with them. She flew a black flag, with no other 
markings. The lines were slacked and the sails were torn and rent. 
She had no crew, sailing mournfully on through the deepening 
darkness. 
     Ranma and the others watched it slip past, close enough to see 
the barnacles and seaweed on the hull, and the hear the whistling of 
the wind through the holes in the canvas. Akane gasped to see the 
rising moon shine faintly through the ship.

“All around the ribbon they run,
With a rim dim diddy
And a rum tum tum.
Sailing away at the break of dawn,
They are the Ghosts of Cape Horn.”

     Another ghost ship appeared. It flew the flag of Spain. One of 
Aerandir’s sailors on deck stopped singing and doffed his hat, 
bringing it to his cover his heart. It was the vessel of a shipmate, 
one who had never come to rest upon the shores of Fiddler’s Green.

“See them all in sad repair,
Demons dance, everywhere!
Southern gales, tattered sails,
and none to tell the tale...”

     The crews’ voices were raised in salute to the ship as it passed. 
The ghost ship dipped it’s tattered colors in answering salute. Voices 
were heard as the other crew joined in the song.

“Come all of you rustic old seadogs,
Who follow the bright Southern Cross!
You were rounding the Horn, 
In the eye of the storm,
Where’ll you’ll muster one day...

And you read all of your letters from oceans away.
And you took them to the bottom of the sea...”

     The Spanish galleon passed them. A third and then a fourth ship 
appeared. The fourth was a British sail-steamer from the turn of the 
century. A strangely luminous brown smoke scudded from her stacks 
as she came alongside. The moonrise shone through it as well.

“All around Old Cape Horn
Ships of the line, ships of the morn,
Some of whom wish they’d never been born,
They are the Ghosts of Cape Horn.

All around the ribbon they run,
With a rim dim diddy
And a rum tum tum.
Sailing away at the break of dawn,
They are the Ghosts of Cape Horn...”

     More ships appeared and dipped their colors in salute to the Star 
of the West. Phantom voices from those ships joined Aerandir’s crew, 
and the song echoed across the gently rolling sea. Akane put her arm 
around Ranma. At first he thought it was because she was scared, but 
then realized it was because she was glad to have him alive and close 
to her.

“Come all you old seadogs from Devon,
Southampton, Penzance, and Kensail!
You were caught by the chance,
Of a sailor’s last dance,
It was not meant to be...

And you read all of your letters from oceans away.
And you took them to the bottom of the sea...”


     The last of the ghost ships faded away as the song ended. The 
seas were again silent save for the wind and the rush of the water at 
the Star of the West’s bow. Aerandir’s crew drifted away in ones 
and twos.
     Aerandir stood on the deck with tears streaming quietly from his 
eyes. Nabiki looked up at him with concern as the others, including 
Anazali and Minhiriath, looked on in surprise. Neither Maia had ever 
known the mariner to weep.
     “What’s the matter, Aerandir?” Nabiki asked him.
     He wiped at the tears on his face with a handkerchief.
     “This is a beautiful and magical world we live in,” he told her 
softly. “It is our gift to you... I want you to know that there will 
come a time when we shall no longer walk this world; when all 
responsibility for it will rest upon your shoulders. I fear that 
tomorrow will destroy my people, even if we succeed in stopping my 
uncle.”
     He looked to Ranma, Ryoga, Hiro, and Kuno. 
     “My uncle and my brother’s lives are mine to take,” he told them. 
“If it comes to that, though I fear it will. Rest yourselves, in the 
morning we shall reach the Crown of Eternity. From there our path is 
uncertain and our future less so... Prepare yourselves.”
     He went forward and then below decks to his stateroom without 
another word to them.
     Ranma took Akane forward to the foc’sle to watch the stars. Kuno 
stayed on the conn as the Officer of the Deck, and Nabiki and Anazali 
stayed with him. Minhiriath took Ryoga aside as Hiro went below to 
his own stateroom. The ghost crew faded from sight around them, 
only a few that were on watch or those souls that wished to look 
upon the night sky for a little while longer remained. A hush fell over 
the Star of the West.
     “I’ve never seen Aerandir cry before,” Nabiki said to no one in 
particular.
     “It’s because he loves you,” Anazali replied to her, the oil on 
water sheen of her skin glittering in the moonlight.
     Nabiki started. “What?”
     “He loves all of you,” Anazali continued. “Of all my people, only 
Aerandir has stayed the most faithful to our purpose. That is why I 
admire him so. But you can be so disappointing to us that it is hard 
to love you. Aerandir loves you all the same, but it is because you 
can hurt him so with your failures that he takes refuge in the sea. He 
weeps for you as much as he does for our people. He weeps 
because he isn’t sure that you are ready to go on without us.”
     “You keep talking like it’s the end of the world,” Nabiki pressed. 
“I thought you were going to try and talk this over?”
     “There are those who believe Sarophan may listen, but I for one 
do not. Aerandir does not believe it either. There will be a terrible 
battle tomorrow, Nabiki. I dread it, but I cannot deny it.”
     She left them then with a wan smile and went below.
     Kuno looked away from the conn to Nabiki, but did not say a word.
     She returned the look.
     “Forget it Tate-chan. I’ve come this far. If for no other reason 
than to make sure Ukyo is all right.”
     “I ask that you take the utmost care, Nabiki.”
     She smiled for him.
     “I will.”


     Minhiriath gestured up to the stars for Ryoga.
     “I am not sure of the dream that led me to you Ryoga, and even in 
the stars I cannot find the answer. All I know is that you have some 
destiny to meet, though I know not for ill or good.”
     Ryoga looked out across the darkened sea.
     “How far away is Japan?”
     Minhiriath sighed.
     “Very far Ryoga. Or not far at all, if you keep it close to your 
heart.”
     This time Ryoga sighed.
     Minhiriath could sense his surface thoughts and smiled.
     “She will be waiting for you, my friend. She seems to be a woman 
of boundless patience and love where you are concerned.”
     Ryoga began to blush furiously.
     “No sense denying her the place she deserves in your heart, Ryoga,” 
Minhiriath continued.
     He let Ryoga think about what he said for awhile, and they watched 
the stars in companionable silence. Finally Minhiriath patted Ryoga’s 
back and turned to go.
     “Like my fellows, I must retire to my room and prepare for tomorrow. 
I in my own small way am a warrior, and must marshal my strength. I 
suggest you try to get some sleep where you can.”
     Ryoga nodded and the Maia left him to stand by the rail.


     Ranma and Akane stood on the prow. Ranma had his arm around 
her waist. She lay her head against his arm. He wore his red sable 
cloak and spread it over Akane’s shoulders to keep the cold sea 
wind at bay. Though it was June, this was the southern hemisphere, 
and it was winter here.
     “This is it,” he told her.
     “We’ll be fine,” she replied. She sensed that he wanted to say 
something more, but for the moment she was content to let him bring 
up the subject on his own.
     “I ain’t worried.”
     “You’re just saying that so I won’t get worried,” she sighed. “It’s 
okay to be a little worried, Ranma. I want you to know that I believe 
in you... I believe in us.”
     He tugged her a little closer to him.
     “It’s crazy,” he said to her.
     “What is?”
     “You and me. Working as a team. Our folks have been trying to 
do that now for how long?”
     Akane laughed sweetly.
     “I see your point, Ranma. It is kind of crazy.”
     “Yeah, but a good kinda crazy.”
     “Yeah...” Her voice drifted away dreamily. “You make me very 
happy, Ranma.”
     “Oh yeah?”
     “As if you even have to ask,” she said dryly. She brushed his 
pigtail over his shoulder thoughtfully. 
     A sudden chill settled over her, and it was not the cold sea air. 
“I don’t want to worry about tomorrow, but I can’t help thinking about 
it.”
     “We’ve been training together. And you’ve gotten a lot faster, 
Akane. A lot better. I think the two of us can take care of anyone 
that comes along. All we have to do is blast that damn prism to bits 
and we can go home.”
     “Home...”
     “Yeah, home. It’ll be good to go home.” He said quietly. “I don’t 
think I’m as big on all this traveling as you are.”
     “I couldn’t tell,” she replied with a touch of sarcasm.
     “You know what?”
     She looked up into his eyes.
     “What?” She asked him.
     “I don’t think I tell you how much I love you as often as I should.”
     Akane put her arms around his neck.
     “That’s okay Ranma. I know how you feel.” She kissed him lightly 
upon the cheek. “But you can tell me anytime you like!”
     A silence fell between them. Akane was used to it, such silences 
were no longer the uncomfortable spans they once were. Ranma 
tended to open up after a pause anyway. She wasn’t disappointed. 
He reached over and brushed at her cheek without preamble. 
     “The only thing bothering me is Ukyo.”
     “You mean if we have to fight her like we did in the vision?”
     Ranma shook his head. “If it was just a fight, I think it would be 
easier to handle. I don’t think the vision we had was, um, well, the 
way it’s going to be.”
     “You mean what we saw wasn’t literal?” She grinned at him. 
     Ranma ignored her grin. “I get the feelin’ these guys in the Heart 
of the World like using a lot of symbols when they talk to people. 
Don’t ask me what Ukyo fighting us is supposed to symbolize.”
     Akane gave this some thought. 
     “Maybe the fight wasn’t symbolic, but the way we beat her was.”
     Ranma screwed up his face in thought. He had to admit that Akane 
was the cerebral half of their fighting duet. He was the muscle.
     “What do you mean?”
     “How did we beat her? We took each other’s hands and worked 
together -as one. What’s that supposed to mean?”
     “That we’re supposed to work together. I thought that’s what these 
guys in the Heart of the World wanted all along.”
     “But why?”
     “You’re the one with all the answers,” he replied.
     She resisted the urge to slug him. “Even though you don’t use it 
very often, you do have a brain of your own, you know.”
     He narrowed his eyes at her. She wrinkled her nose at him in 
retaliation. His expression softened, and she giggled at his weakness. 
He tried to ignore her and actually put some thought into his question. 
She stopped when she realized he was taking her advice, so as not to 
distract him.
     “Maybe the fight with her is a kinda symbol. Maybe it’s not an 
actual fight, but some other kinda struggle,” He said at length.
     “Like what?”
     “I dunno. What kind of struggle could we possibly have with Ukyo? 
Over what, even? We’re all friends, right?”
     Akane nodded her head slowly. “Ukyo and I get along just fine... 
Except where you’re concerned that is,” she added quietly.
     “She knows how I feel about you.”
     “That might not change the way she feels about you, deep inside.”
     Ranma took her face in his hands. “You’re the one I love, Akane. 
You’re the one I want to marry. If that’s all this is about, then we’ve 
already won the battle.”
     As he moved close to kiss her, Akane hoped silently that he was 
right.



                          Chapter Three



     Moskva stood at anchor just beyond the vast expanse of whiteness 
against the dim sky that was the winter limits of the Ross Ice Shelf. 
The nuclear powered icebreaker Arktika continued to crush a path 
through the sea ice as the amphibious ships followed in its wake. The 
destroyers and frigates made lazy patrols around the carrier, picking 
their way carefully through the icebergs. The guided missile cruiser 
Kirov guarded the entrance to their path through the ice floes from 
the open sea. Prowling at a safe depth below them were an Akula and a 
Victor III. There was the possibility that an American submarine was 
following the fleet, and the two Russian subs cruised at low speeds 
to avoid detection.
     The tarps were clear of the helicopters, and the whine of turbines 
and the chop of rotor blades filled the bitter air. Men in heavy arctic 
camouflage fatigues carried weapons subdued with strips of white 
cloth and fell into formations by squads. Sailors and aircrewmen 
darted to and fro on deck making final checks. Running lights on 
helicopters blinked red and green in a sky that was unending twilight.
     Ivan Tarchenko shivered with a mixture of cold and pride. He 
had assembled quite a force to seize the Heart of the World. His 
team was assembling on the after elevator. Between the dozen men 
was a large pyramid whose whiteness was lost amid so much ice and 
flurrying snow. Their prism sat in a heavy gauge sling, it was too big 
and massive to fit within a helicopter.
     Fyodor’s men gathered around him close by. They would fly in 
with the scout helicopters and set up the landing zones. Within the 
ring of rock that was Mount Erebus and Mount Terror there would 
be plenty of room for the troop carrying helicopters to get in and out.
     Tarchenko knew Casimir’s model worked as soon as he received 
the satellite imagery photos. There, in the middle of winter and with 
no appreciable sun, was a garden of incredible fecundity. It had 
appeared overnight just yesterday. That kind of miracle seemed to 
be stock in trade for the Heart of the World.
     He would be accompanying the research and seizure teams. **How 
could I not go?** He told himself. If it worked, those old power 
grubbers sitting in Moscow were going to be in for a surprise. 
     Power was not something you shared. 



                         *       *       *



     “How we doin’ D-Day?” Durango asked his copilot.
     D-Day looked out of the frosty canopy to the wing. 
     “We’re holding up all right,” he replied.
     “As long as we keep cycling the control surfaces, we shouldn’t 
have a problem there. I’m just worried about icing on the wings 
themselves.”
     “It’s not bad. Keep us out of the white stuff.”
     “I can a feel a little on the other wing whenever I put on a 
little left yaw.”
     “We could throttle up on the engine. That might help keep from 
stalling the wing in a turn.”
     Professor McFogg came up to the flight deck wearing a heavy 
fur-lined parka.
     “How much further?” He asked them.
     “About thirty minutes,” Durango replied. “We talked to McMurdo 
Station not long ago, and reception was bad. Either there’s bad 
weather close by, or something’s lousing up the radio. Could be 
your little disturbances.”
     “I don’t think it’s bad weather,” D-Day mumbled. “Doppler’s 
looking good; a little snowfall is about it. McMurdo said it was calm 
there, too.”
     McFogg nodded his head. The younger members of his research 
team were grousing about the cold and discomfort of flying in Bettie’s 
Dare. He liked the old Catalina himself. The thrum of the props, and 
the creaking and vibration reminded him of his paratrooper days over 
Holland. A time when he and a handful of men under a chap named 
Frost had held off two SS Panzer divisions at a certain bridge in a 
town called Arnhem. He even brought his weathered red beret with 
the silver pegasus over a maroon flash with him for the trip.
     Bettie’s Dare cruised on through the dark winter skies. Below them 
the ice glowed with the light of the moon as it sunk below the horizon. 
There were dark patches too, the frigid Ross Sea. 
     “I think that’s it,” Durango said, pointing to a pair of dark 
peaks in the distance. 
     D-Day consulted the GPS display and compared it to his chart.
     “Sure is, man.”
     McFogg and Ferguson watched the two mountains as they flew 
towards them. A glow of light filtered up from the ring of dark basalt, 
rising into the sky and illuminating banks of high altitude clouds. 
Bettie’s Dare flew on.
     “We’re about five minutes away now. You got any particular place 
you want to set down?” Durango asked McFogg. “The chart says it’s 
nice and level in that valley, but who knows? The chart didn’t say 
anything about the place glowing from ten miles away, either.”
     “We’ll see when you get us in closer,” McFogg replied.
     Ferguson was busying himself with a Kirlian. “I’m already reading 
increased activity. This is going to be amazing even without the Maia 
and their conflict.” He thought about his words. “How am I going to 
explain _that_ one in my paper?”
     “You’ll think of something,” Katy Price said coolly from the ladder. 
“The kids are getting restless,” she added for the pilots. “How much 
longer do we have to stay up here in this rattle trap?”
     “I heard that!” Durango yelled. “Just for that...” He reached into 
his bomber jacket and pulled out one of his few Partagas cigars. He 
lit up on the fly as D-Day took the control yoke. Heavy aromatic 
smoke billowed from his mouth, which he knew Katy Price hated. 
It began to permeate the cabin. Ferguson didn’t smoke, but liked the 
smell of good cigars. The Professor of course was an old pipe smoker 
and so felt right at home. Katy began to make that irritated coughing 
noise that militant nonsmokers make when they’re trying to get the 
attention of an offender to their way of life.
     Durango took in a huge Bogart drag and purposefully blew it out in 
her direction.
     She fled at once.
     “Coming up on this ‘Crown of Eternity,’” Durango announced.
     About that point was when the GPS and pulse Doppler weather 
radar systems crashed, the compass began to spiral crazily on the 
console, and the engines died with gasps. The silence was sudden 
and oppressive. 
     “What the hell?” Durango cried. D-Day was shoving Ferguson 
out of the way as he jumped out of his seat to reach the Engineer’s 
station.
     “Get below and strap yourselves in!” D-Day bellowed at the 
scientists. Then to Durango. “We lost both engines, but I can’t tell 
why. No fire lights, no indications of oil or fuel system failure.”
     Durango feathered the props. To keep them loaded would stop 
them, and he wasn’t ready for a restart in this freezing weather with 
the props not moving. The Professor remained in the cockpit as 
Ferguson and Katy went below.
     “Restart procedures!” He cried. His free hand flew across the 
console as he set his mixture, choke, and throttle settings for restart.
     “Ready on one!” D-Day called.
     “Contact!” Durango yelled. “Come on baby, turn over!”
     Number One engine failed to start. Bettie’s Dare began to sink 
as it lost airspeed. Durango found himself forced to put the Catalina 
into a shallow dive for speed just to keep from completely stalling 
out and dropping straight down from lack of lift.
     “Shit!”
     “I’m not getting any indications from the starting motor! Voltage 
is going crazy, but I’m not reading any grounds on the system!” 
D-Day cried as he checked a series of circuit breakers. “Try 
Number Two!”
     “Contact!”
     Nothing.
     “Shit!” The two pilots chorused.
     The Crown of Eternity loomed before them.
     “Okay,” Durango said with sudden unnerving calm. “We’re gonna 
try one more time. Then we’re gonna belly land. How’re the hydraulics 
holding up?”
     “Pressure’s falling slowly in the accumulator, and we don’t have 
any power to the pump.”
     “Get ready to hand pump the landing gear down. If anything the 
gear’ll help eat up the energy of impact.”
     “How well can you glide without power?” McFogg asked them.
     Durango hand cranked the flaps to full and fought to hold the 
Catalina in the air. His altitude for speed trade-off was running out 
of one particularly important commodity -altitude. “With all the ice 
we have built up, and no power, Bettie’s got all the aerodynamics 
of a poorly thrown brick. Get below, Professor.”
     McFogg complied. His pilots had enough trouble without having 
to answer any more questions. There was already muted panic 
coming from the rest of the team in the cabin.
     “Ready on One!” 
     Durango tried to start the engine. It coughed and spit, but didn’t 
turn over. He looked quickly for a spot on the ice for his belly landing, 
as his free hand moved to the controls for Number Two engine. 
They were dropping to eighteen hundred feet and still falling with 
just enough speed to keep from stalling both wings.
     “Come on girl... Don’t do this to me... Come on baby, put out for 
me just one more time.”
     “Ready on Two!”
     “Contact!”
     Durango jerked at the starter. Number Two coughed, wheezed, and 
hummed, but wouldn’t turn over.
     “BITCH!!!” He thundered to the plane. His fist slammed down on 
the console as he continued to jerk at the starter.
     Number Two engine roared to life defiantly. Fire shot from the 
exhaust header with a loud bang. Durango bit the tip right off his cigar 
in surprise.
     “She likes the abuse!” He crowed, and throttled up Number 2 all 
the way. Bettie’s Dare began to claw its way into the air again. He got 
Number 1 started with no effort the third time.
     “Let’s get the hell over that ridge and set her down before we lose 
the engines again,” Durango announced. “We’ll figure out what happened 
once we’re on the ground.”
     They made a circling climb and brought the Catalina over the black 
knife-edged ridge line that was the northern side of the Crown of 
Eternity. They cleared the ridge and entered the golden glow of light 
that sparkled below them. They saw the lush garden and the grassy 
plains on the south side of the valley between the two mountains.
     “Looking pretty good,” D-Day said, pointing.
     “I was thinking the same thing,” Durango replied. He called over 
his shoulder. “Okay, knock on wood, but I think our troubles are 
over! Found us a nice grassy meadow to land on. Stay in your seats 
and keep your tray tables in the fully upright position until the 
aircraft comes to a complete stop.”
     Bettie’s Dare flared out over the grassy meadow for a smooth and 
easy landing. Durango feathered the props and let them coast down 
gently. D-Day opened the dorsal hatch and poked his head out. 
Warm air greeted him, there was green almost everywhere, and 
brightly colored flowers where there was not.
     “You sure we aren’t dead?” He asked Durango. 
     “Positive,” Durango answered. “I’ve got a woody you wouldn’t 
believe.”
     “Then we must be in Oz.”
     His eyes searched for a yellow brick road in spite of himself.
     “You tell me,” the pilot replied, scrambling for his fallen cigar. 
“You’re the navigator. This could be the Twilight Zone for all I 
know.” He found his cigar, then he pocketed his trusty M1911A1 
pistol in his jacket.
     Ferguson and the Professor stepped out of the side hatch. Doctor 
Casimir and Katy were close behind. The rest of the team, mostly 
undergraduates and a few post-grads from Cambridge, followed 
after with the gear. Soft cries and awed curses drifted across the 
warm golden air.
     Casimir was nearly in tears. He put his hand on McFogg’s shoulder.
     “<This is what our fathers saw. Perhaps more, as they never 
mentioned such a garden as this.>”
     A voice greeted them from a line of trees a few dozen yards 
distant.
     “Welcome Professor McFogg, Doctor Casimir, and company!”
     They watched as a tall bearded man with silvery skin and 
glittering silver eyes raised his hand in greeting and started towards 
them. A young Japanese woman wearing a short purple and black dress and 
white tights was at his side. A white bow adorned her long mane of 
lustrous dark brown hair. She was carrying the biggest spatula either 
of them had ever seen. It was like an enormous pizza spat.
     “How long has it been Professor, close to fifty years since last 
we met?” The silver skinned man asked him.
     McFogg recognized the man. India. 1947.
     “<Forty-nine,>” he replied.
     “I am glad you were able to make yourself present for this,” 
Sarophan said warmly. “Your father would be proud.”
     They noticed the other men and women that came out of the 
wooded areas around the meadow. They were armed with swords 
and spears that flashed with spectral flames. They were Maia, but 
obviously allied with Sarophan.
     “You are free to observe and take whatever scientific data you 
wish,” Sarophan continued. “But I ask for your own safety that you 
stay well clear of us.”



                          *       *       *



     Star of the West lay at anchor near the great sheet of glacial ice 
that was the Ross Ice Shelf. The ghost crew scuttled about readying the 
ship’s skyskiff; a Maia flying boat with sails above and below the hull. 
There were precious few of them left in the world; each crafted in the 
days when Maianar sat atop the waves rather than below.
     Aerandir looked over the companions as they stepped aboard the 
skiff that floated above the icy seas. They were dressed in warm 
cloaks with hoods, and underneath they wore shirts or hauberks of 
mail so finely woven that they were like shimmering silk. The gorgeous 
armor was a gift from him to each of them.
     At first Ranma had balked at the thought of wearing armor, then 
he saw how light and comfortable the hauberks were. Now he wore 
one beneath a loose fitting tunic and trousers made of bright red satin 
and embroidered in gold and black with an Asian style dragon. Akane 
wore a mail shirt under a short dress of matching material and also 
embroidered with a dragon as well as brightly colored flowers. When 
they stood next to each other, it seemed as if each dragon was 
wriggling in harmony with the other’s movements. When they stood 
apart, each dragon lay still upon the garment. Aerandir explained that 
they were gift from Nimatar, and were made the day after the Conclave 
for them.
     Ryoga Hibiki wore his hauberk under a brilliant green tunic and 
black trousers. Tiny stars glittered in their constellations on his 
tunic, a gift from Minhiriath, who wore similar garb and carried a long 
spear with a broad leaf shaped head. Ryoga’s face was unreadable, 
though doubtless he was thinking about his return to Japan.
     Tatewaki Kuno wore his mail hauberk underneath a samurai’s 
fighting kimono made of an iridescent dark blue material that felt like 
silk under an electric current to the touch. It was another gift from 
Nimatar. His sword was held loosely in his hand. His face was grim 
and his eyes burned with a dark intensity.
     Nabiki had her songbirds nestle underneath her hood. They 
absolutely refused to stay behind, no matter how insistent she or 
even Aerandir had been with them. Their feathers were a little ticklish 
on her neck as they huddled together and against her. She wore a mail 
shirt under a golden silk blouse and tight fitting red trousers made of 
velvet and cut high on her waist, nearly reaching her midriff. Her waist 
was bound with a black silk sash. Her garments had that same 
stimulating electric feel about them that Kuno’s had.
     Hiro Ohata wore a white tunic and black trousers. A dark green 
sash bound his waist, and he tucked spare magazines for his two Sigs 
within. A knight upon a rampant charger was embroidered in a 
matching dark green thread upon his back. He carried his trusty 
H&K G-3 rifle in hand, and his extra magazines were carried in a 
black velvet pouch slung over his shoulder.
     Anazali wore a long dress of that glowed like mother of pearl 
against the light of the ship’s lanterns. She carried a long spear in 
her hand and a sword at her side. She let her hair down, spilling over 
her shoulders and down to the small of her back in waves. 
     Aerandir himself wore a black tunic over white trousers, and a 
burgundy sash held his gracefully waved flambergé. His pale hair was 
tied into its usual ponytail with a burgundy ribbon. His expression was 
buoyant as they stepped aboard the skiff. Within himself however he 
was the gravest of them all.
     At a verbal prompt the skyskiff’s sails billowed open and the sleek 
craft began to fly swiftly across the choppy grey seas towards the ice 
shelf. They could see the distant black peaks of Mounts Terror and 
Erebus against the soft golden glow that rose up into heaven from the 
Crown of Eternity. The air was incredibly cold and bitter, without the 
cloaks Aerandir had given them it would have been unendurable.
     “I’m returning to my birthplace,” Anazali whispered. “When was the 
last time the Heart of the World rose here?” She asked Aerandir.
     “A little over three hundred years ago,” he replied.
     “It doesn’t seem like such a long time.”
     “For me it isn’t.”
     Akane clasped Ranma’s hand tight in hers as they huddled together. 
Their lovemaking last night had carried with it a sense of desperation, 
as if only in the intimacy of their joining that their hidden fears and 
misgivings could find voice. 



                         *       *       *



     The first of the helicopters rose from Moskva and tipped into the 
wind carrying Fyodor and his men. Other helicopters took off carrying 
the pathfinders. As helos lifted clear, more were brought up on deck 
with the elevators. The main body of the force was preparing to move 
out. Tarchenko found himself with the research team. The wounded 
Doctor Pulatski and his scientists readied gear while Toschev and his 
psionics prepared themselves from within. His helo, a massive Mi-24 
Hind-E stripped of most of its guns to carry more cargo, was carrying 
their prism beneath it.
     LCACs disembarked from the amphibious ships carrying the 
majority of their force. The hovercrafts glided neatly over the ice 
below them. There were five hundred men down there. They were prepared
to take and hold the Crown of Eternity until reinforcements arrived.
     The choppers started across the vast sheet of glacial ice headed 
towards Ross Island. They could see the golden glow on the horizon 
unmoving like a frozen sunrise. Tarchenko smiled and licked his lips 
in anticipation.



                           *       *       *



     “Look my friends,” Aerandir said to them. “We have arrived.”
     The Crown of Eternity lay before them, a vast ring of black rock 
capped with ice and snow along the tops of the ridges. Mount Erebus 
probed the grey sky to one side, and to the opposite side rose it’s 
twin Mount Terror. Within the crown lay a lush and verdant garden, 
bright and lively against the stark dread of the Crown. They could 
feel the warm air rising from the vast garden below, dispelling the 
freezing wind that had torn at them before.
     Other skyskiffs and more fantastical flying machines were already 
present in the valley below or descending down the steep sides of the 
Crown. They could see pennants and banners fluttering gently from 
tents and pavilions in two distinct camps. The PBY-5A Catalina better 
known as Bettie’s Dare could also be seen on the far side of the valley.
     They could feel the warm and tingling wind. The place was filled 
with power. Ranma had never felt anything like it. It was all around 
them, more vast than any of the events and yet so distant it was almost 
an abstract. He squeezed Akane’s hand, and she whispered to him 
that she loved him.
     “It seems very peaceful,” Nabiki observed.
     “This is sort of weird,” Ranma muttered. “I expected a fight from 
the beginning.”
     “The Heart of the World shall rise and stay for about an hour 
before beginning its descent,” Minhiriath explained. “That time shall 
be used for our expectant mothers to give birth to their children, for 
reaching out with ourselves to the rest of the universe in prayer, and 
for the creation of wondrous things. In that time we shall also attempt 
to parley with Sarophan.”
     “We shall fight only when my uncle attempts to use his prism,” 
Aerandir declared. “I will give the signal.”
     The skyskiff descended down the face of the cliffs and settled 
down upon a small knoll near Nimatar’s camp. The Maia and his 
retainers greeted them warmly, but it was plain that there was much 
apprehension in the air. The party removed their cloaks and set 
them aside in the skyskiff while Aerandir spoke to Nimatar.
     “Sarophan refuses to speak to us until the gathering,” Nimatar 
told Aerandir. “I think that bodes ill for a peaceful resolution.”
     “We must leave this to the peacemakers for now Nimatar,” the 
mariner replied. “I am girded for war, and my uncle likely considers 
me to have betrayed him. I cannot speak to him lest it be over the 
edge of my sword.”
     “I understand. I see Ranma, Akane and their bold companions 
are ready to act.”
     “They shall, when the time comes.”


     Nabiki found the Professor and the other scientists setting up 
their sensor networks and trying to establish satellite communications 
with London. Thus far they had been woefully unsuccessful. Ferguson 
scrambled around setting up his white boxes as Clay made Kirlian 
sweeps. Katy and Doctor Casimir supervised the set up of the data 
recording and A/V equipment. Sarophan had left them alone to do 
their work. 
     When asked, they confirmed that Ukyo was with the Maia as well.
     Nabiki passed this on to Ranma immediately.
     “I’m going to go find her,” he declared.
     “Not without me you’re not,” Akane added.
     “Then let’s go,” he said grimly.
     “Wait you guys!” Nabiki cried. “I’m going too. And shouldn’t you 
tell someone first that you’re going?”
     “We have plenty of time before this gathering or whatever. Nothing 
is going to happen before then anyway. Besides, it’ll be easier if I can 
talk to Ukyo before the fighting starts.”
     Nabiki had to agree on that last point, but she still had misgivings 
about just leaving like that. She looked around for Kuno or Hiro or 
even Ryoga, but they were elsewhere in the camp. She didn’t know 
any of the Maia around, and so she settled for joining her sister and 
Ranma as they started across the center of the Crown of Eternity 
towards Sarophan’s camp.
     They passed through a copse of trees. They saw Ukyo standing 
there near the edge of the clearing beyond. If she noticed them she 
gave no sign. Ranma didn’t wait for the other two, and started off 
at a full run towards Ukyo.
     “Ucchan!” He cried.
     Ukyo looked over to him and her eyes lit up with joy.
     “Ranma! Wait up!” Akane protested. “We should be together!”
     Ranma could no longer hear her. As he ran towards Ukyo, and 
she towards him, the trees faded away to be replaced by houses 
and a narrow street. The copse became Nerima. His memories 
drifted away as the trees faded, and now his face burned with a 
red slap mark across his cheek. Courtesy of the hopelessly uncute 
tomboy Akane Tendo, who had just become his very reluctant 
fiancée.
     “Ucchan! Is that you? I don’t believe it!”
     Ukyo nodded slowly.
     “Hi Ranchan,” she said to him. There was a little wariness in her 
voice, but otherwise she looked just as happy to see him as he was 
to see her.
     There was something wrong here, but Ranma couldn’t quite put 
his finger on it. He was overjoyed to see his old friend Ukyo, at least 
now he had a friend in the new neighborhood his stupid father had 
taken them to.
     “How did you get here? Do you live here now? This is great!” He 
asked excitedly as he stopped short in front of her. He looked her 
over in her dress. She smiled for him warmly.
     “Hey!?” He cried. “What’s with the dress?”
     “I’m a girl, stupid!” She cried indignantly. “Girls _do_ wear 
dresses upon occasion, you know.”
     Ranma’s head spun in circles.
     **Ucchan is a girl...?**
     “Since when did this happen?” He stammered. He thought of his 
recent curse, also courtesy of his damn idiot of a father. “You didn’t 
go to China by any chance, did you?”
     She flushed red; half embarrassed, and half upset with him.
     “I’ve _always_ been a girl, Ranchan! You mean to tell me that 
you never noticed?”
     Ranma flushed red as well.
     “Uh... Nope... I, ah, I always thought you were a boy...” He 
looked down at the ground. “I don’t know what to say...”
     She wanted to smash his head in for that. But he was so cute, 
and she found her heart fluttering in his presence. She couldn’t 
believe it, but she knew she was falling in love with him right then 
and there. She patted his head and then lifted his chin up to her. 
His face flushed even hotter at her touch. Her skin was so soft 
and sweet smelling.
     “I guess this explains a lot of things...” She said to him. “Like 
why you ran away and left me.”
     Ranma tried to recall what she was talking about. All he 
remembered about Ukyo was all the fun they used to have together. 
The playful sparring, the okonomiyaki that always followed his 
victory -to the point that Ucchan would even have one waiting 
for him, complete with goofy face drawn in sauce, the walks they’d 
take, and the secrets that he’d share with him. (_Her_... he reminded 
himself.) Anyway, such secrets as a couple of little kids can have. 
Nowhere did he remember running off and leaving him. _Her_... he 
again reminded himself. Looking at her in that short dress left no room 
for mistake as to her gender.
     “I’m sorry Ucchan, I don’t remember what you’re talking about.”
     She hissed under her breath.
     “I shouldn’t blame you for it,” she said at length. “It’s your 
father that was responsible.”
     “That figures!” Ranma snapped. “That stupid asshole has made 
my life a living hell.” He looked at her softly. “So what did he do this 
time?”
     “He promised my father that you and I would get married some 
day,” she replied evenly.
     Ranma’s head started to spin again at the thought of marrying Ukyo, 
especially because she was so cute! He couldn’t help but stare at her 
in this regard. Then he remembered his current predicament.
     “Where have I heard that before...?” He asked himself bitterly. 
“Do you know that he promised me to some other guy’s daughters?”
     Ukyo looked crestfallen. “You mean you’re engaged to someone 
else, as well as me?”
     “Yeah,” Ranma replied. There was absolutely no joy in his voice. 
“I’m engaged to this violent sexless tomboy. I can’t stand her.”



     Akane and Nabiki were falling further and further behind Ranma. 
He didn’t answer their cries for him to stop. As he stepped past a tree, 
he disappeared. It was like he was never there. They reached the tree 
and looked around. There was no sign of him. He didn’t answer their 
repeated calls to him. He was gone.
     “Oh I knew we shouldn’t have gone without telling someone,” 
Nabiki said with clenched teeth. “I think we’re in a lot of trouble.”
     Akane was speechless. Ranma was gone. Her eyes began to dew. 
She felt like she had failed him somehow. But before she could do or 
say anything she heard a dreadfully familiar voice.
     “Ah, there she is...”
     They turned to see Palandir standing close by. His sword flashed 
with white flames along the blade. Her heart shot up into her throat. 
Nabiki hadn’t seen the man before, but his resemblance to Aerandir 
was strong enough for her to make the connection.
     “Rest easy m’ladies,” Palandir soothed. “Go back to camp.”
     “What have you done with Ranma!” Akane cried.
     “I have no idea what you are talking about,” Palandir replied 
calmly.
     “Don’t lie to me!” Akane thundered back. Nabiki tugged at her 
arm to get her to back down.
     “Akane, let’s get back to camp and tell Aerandir. We don’t stand 
a chance against this guy,” Nabiki hissed to her little sister.
     “Not until I get Ranma back!”
     Palandir watched them with a smug look of innocence on his face.
     “Akane, you aren’t helping him by doing this,” Nabiki hissed 
sternly. “Now we’ve got to hurry back and find Aerandir. Please, Akane. 
This guy could kill us without breaking a sweat.”
     Akane glared at him fiercely, but knew her sister was right. She 
hated it, because it felt like she was abandoning Ranma, and that was 
something she would never do. She also knew that there was no way 
they could defeat the Maia on their own.
     “You’re going to regret this,” she told him. She started back to 
Nimatar’s camp with Nabiki leading the way.



                           *       *       *



     The Russian helicopters made their way through the frigid air 
towards the Crown of Eternity. As they approached, Tarchenko 
noticed that the radio chatter between choppers began to break up 
in blasts of static and harsh warbling. The pilots began to adjust their 
sets to no effect.
     “What is happening?” He asked them.
They shook their heads. “There is some kind of interference,” one of 
them said. He pointed to the golden glow of the Crown of Eternity. 
“Perhaps it has something to do with that.” The pilot had never seen 
anything like it before, and was more than a little apprehensive.
     The radio crackled again. It was Fyodor and the scout helicopters. 
They were close to the rim of the Crown now, and were reconnoitering 
the interior with binoculars. After several attempts, they finally 
conveyed their message in its entirety.
     “We are arriving late,” Fyodor told him. “There are already many 
people present. I can see a kind of seaplane and many tents below. I 
estimate several hundred people. I also see another prism down there.”
     Tarchenko demanded that he repeat that last part.
     “There is another prism down there. It is just like our own.”
     **This was unthinkable! Did that old fool Casimir know all along 
about the prism, and did he then share that knowledge with McFogg, 
or did the Professor already know and kept it a secret from everyone?**
     He didn’t have time for further reflection, as the helicopter’s 
engines died. Other helicopters began losing their engines. Radios 
blared out static, compasses spun crazily, watches stopped. Helos 
began falling out of the sky.
     “What’s happening?!” He demanded.
     “We’ve lost our engines!” The copilot cried. “We can’t restart 
them, we’ll have to autorotate to the ground or we’ll be killed! Hold 
on tight to something, sir!”
     Tarchenko’s heart nearly stopped as the helicopter began it’s 
rapid descent straight down. The pilot adjusted his torque and blade 
pitch to use the remaining rotational energy of the blades to break 
his fall. Other helicopters began doing the same as their engines died.
     They came down hard, but not enough to cause serious injury. A few 
helicopters crashed, and one even exploded a few hundred meters away. 
The rest autorotated safely and set down on the glacial ice plain just 
short of the Crown of Eternity. 
     Their prism wasn’t as fortunate. It was smashed in the impact. It 
was useless. Tarchenko couldn’t believe the disaster that had been 
heaped upon him. Pulatski began babbling about the magnitude of the 
electromagnetic disturbance that could have killed all of the engines 
of the helicopters and stopped wristwatches dead. Tarchenko cut him 
off with a look that would have frozen helium plasma.
     The LCACs arrived with the rest of the force. This was to be their 
staging area for the helicopters that were supposed to shuttle them over 
the ridge of the Crown. Without the helicopters the mission looked 
doomed to failure.
     As the soldiers gathered up and a head count was taken, Fyodor 
and his team caught up with Tarchenko. Their helicopter had crashed 
at the very base of the Crown, and it had taken them an hour to return. 
Tarchenko had written them off as lost.
     “We have found a pathway up the ridge and into the valley below,” 
Fyodor informed him. “We can reach the valley in an hour, less if we 
double time.”
     Tarchenko nodded. 
     “You are certain there was another prism down there?”
     “I saw it with my own eyes,” Fyodor replied.
     “We don’t have any choice then,” Tarchenko said at length. He 
pointed to the smashed prism.
     “Form the men up in their squads and let’s move out!” He called to 
his officers. “Double time!” 
     Fyodor’s squad lead the way as the Russian troops began their 
quicktime march across the ice and snow to the Crown of Eternity. 
     Tarchenko’s face was a grim mask of resolve.
     **Nothing will stop me from getting that prism. Nothing.**



                         Chapter Four



     The gathering was about to begin by the time Akane and Nabiki 
returned to Nimatar’s camp. Nimatar and the others were of course 
looking for them as well. When they didn’t see Ranma with them, the 
Maiar began to look very concerned. All of the warriors present 
began to shift uncomfortably and murmur amongst themselves.
     “He’s gone!” Akane cried. “He disappeared right in front of us!”
     “This is my uncle’s doing,” Aerandir spat. “He realizes the danger 
Ranma and Akane present, and he also understands that their power 
to stop him comes from acting together. Now he has separated them.”
     “What can we do?” Hiro asked. He brought up his rifle. “I’ll do 
whatever it takes.”
     Aerandir looked at him. “Hiro, I want you to stay close to Akane. 
Sarophan might change his mind about letting her be.”
     “What about me!?” Ryoga protested. “I’ll rip this guy Sarophan’s 
head off if he comes close to Akane, I swear to you!”
     “No Ryoga, I need your strength close at hand,” Aerandir replied. 
He looked to Kuno. “Your steel as well Blue Thunder.”
     Nimatar raised his finger. “It is possible Sarophan is concealing 
Ranma somehow, but once the Heart of the World rises, Akane 
should be able to find him.”
     “How?” She pleaded.
     “Follow your heart of course,” Nimatar replied.
     “The red strings...” Anazali said.
     “Precisely,” Nimatar confirmed.
     Akane looked at herself. “I can’t see anything!” She protested.
     “You will soon enough,” Nimatar told her. “Ranma needs your 
strength, Akane. Have faith in yourself, and in your love for him, 
and you will not fail.”
     “I shall accompany Akane, if I may,” Minhiriath said at length to 
Aerandir and Nimatar. “My talents as a stargazer are of little import 
now.”
     “Very well,” Aerandir assented. He looked to Anazali. “Anazali, 
I wish for you be at my side.”
     She nodded once and brought her spear up in salute.
     A horn began to sound, the note coinciding with the tingling 
feeling that suddenly flooded through every Maia in the Crown. The 
Heart of the World was close. It was time to gather as they had every 
88 years for millennia.
     “We must go now. Prepare yourselves,” Aerandir told his warriors. 
There were fifty of them plus the two that were Kuno and Ryoga. “Let 
us hope the peacemakers will make our presence unnecessary this day.”
Minhiriath held Akane and Hiro back as the others went to the center 
of the Crown. Nabiki joined Professor McFogg and the others along 
a low hill that overlooked the center. Hopefully they would be far 
enough out of the way if any fireworks started. 
     Nabiki was visibly heartsick, and not even her songbirds could 
cheer her. They felt the Heart of the World coming, and began to 
sing even more joyously for her. She tried to smile for them, for she 
loved them dearly, but it was halfhearted at best. Ranma was missing. 
Akane was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Ukyo had either 
betrayed them or was the unwitting pawn of Sarophan. Tatewaki 
Kuno was about to enter a battle even the Maiar dreaded to fight. It 
was just too many disasters at once.
     Professor McFogg and the others were dismayed by the news of 
Ranma’s disappearance. Even buoyant Ferguson, who was collecting 
more data before the Heart of the World had even risen than he had in 
all those brief moments during previous events. Durango and D-Day 
couldn’t find anything wrong with their Catalina, and since they had 
nothing better to do, decided to go searching for Ranma.


     The Maiar began to assemble around the center of the Crown of 
Eternity. The white pyramid that was the prism stood in the very nexus 
where the Heart of the World would rise. It was guarded by a dozen 
Maia with glittering spears. Sarophan stood away from it, flanked by a 
few of his trusted advisers. Palandir was nowhere to be found.
     Ryoga could feel the tension in the air between the Maiar. It was 
an unspoken hostility. Though no weapons flashed with ethereal flames, 
he knew that was a circumstance that could be provided for on a second’s 
notice. 
     **What could have happened to Ranma?** He thought sullenly. 
     He felt the tingle of the Heart of the World’s approach distantly, 
stirring the magical energies within him that made up his curse. He 
knew that in this place at the right time he could force those energies 
out of his body to rejoin the Heart of the World. Aerandir and 
Minhiriath had both been certain of this when he asked them. His 
curse would end today.
     Tatewaki Kuno stood close to Ryoga and by Aerandir’s side. His 
katana was sheathed, though he held the weapon low in his hand for 
readiness. He meditated upon those who stood across from him, 
studying them, searching for some hint of their strength and skill. His 
meditation was interrupted by the occasional thought of concern for 
Nabiki, and was only assuaged when he looked over his shoulder to 
the hill where she stood. He could see the gold of her blouse glitter 
in the soft light that permeated the very air of the place. He smiled 
at the choice of color Nimatar had selected for her garment. Gold 
suited her well.
     He was uncertain of how he should proceed with her. Clearly she 
was interested in him in more ways than as a source of income, but 
what of the Pig-Tailed Girl? Would she not be shattered if he should 
choose to love Nabiki? He could not love them both, Nabiki would 
only allow him to love her above all else.
     He thought of her again. The way they had embraced that night 
before leaving Peru. It was nothing like what he thought love and 
affection should be. No trumpets sounded, there were no fireworks 
or angelic hosts; just Nabiki in his arms, sweet upon his lips and 
surprising him with her tongue. They only kissed once, but it lingered 
forever. He was ready to explode with passion, but knew distantly 
that she was not taken with such reckless abandon from him.
     What to do? A question that came unbidden into his thoughts 
whenever Nabiki Tendo was the subject at hand. He decided to wait 
until this business was finished. Even if he had no idea, he was certain 
that Nabiki did. It was just a matter of agreeing or disagreeing on her 
choice from that point.
     Nimatar and Aerandir stepped out into the middle of the gathering, 
and Sarophan joined them. All eyes were upon them, and Kuno started 
back to reality. Murmurs rose from both sides of the assembled Maiar. 
No one knew what would happen. The wind began to form as he 
gathered himself to speak.
     “Welcome brothers and sisters, sons and daughters, and our beloved 
cousins,” Nimatar called to them with arms open wide for all of them. 
“We gather here yet again to meet and talk, and to witness the births 
of our children, that they might take their places by our sides one day.”
     He turned briefly to Sarophan.
     “There is also an issue of grave import that divides this gathering 
and girds us for useless war,” he began in a voice loud enough for all 
to hear. “Let us think upon our purpose in this world instead, and let 
us look to our ancestors for guidance. Let us sing in celebration for 
the new life that will be born on this day!”
     Sarophan was the first to start singing, as he clapped his hand 
upon Nimatar’s shoulder and stood close to him. Other voices joined in 
song, haltingly at first, then gathering strength as the emotions began 
to flow. Soon all of the Maia were singing the oldest of songs, written 
in the first days of great Maianar, and their voices carried above the 
very Crown of Eternity itself.
     The four women who were with child were led out to the center of 
the circle by their husbands, and followed by the midwives and their 
assistants. Two were already very close to giving birth, and lay upon 
birthing couches that were placed in the circle by friends and relatives. 
The Maia continued to sing as the women endured the final throes of 
labor.
     The Heart of the World rose up from the depths of the earth, 
drawn by forces that bound the entire universe in that one infinitesimal 
window of space-time that occurred every 88 terrestrial years. The 
wind began to swirl gently around the Crown of Eternity, warmed by 
the radiance that welled up from within. Light sparkled in flashes 
around them.
     The song of the Maia rose with joy and exhaltation. They could 
feel the life and the energy that coursed through them. They could 
feel and hear their ancestors and their departed kin speak to them. 
For an instant they could see Maianar in the days when the world of 
man was young.
     The Heart of the World had risen.
     Akane looked down at her heart to see a red thread floating off 
into the distance. 
     “I see it!” She gasped.
     Hiro looked at her.
     “Where? I don’t see anything.”
     Akane grabbed his hand and started off towards a copse of trees 
near the black cliff walls of the Crown of Eternity. Minhiriath followed 
close behind. Hiro had just enough presence of mind to chamber a 
round in his G-3.


     Ferguson watched as his instruments went berserk. Displays began 
jumping and flashing as their operators frantically tried to get them 
under control. Other researchers who roved the grounds outside the 
circle began sweeping their hand-held instruments and A/V gear about 
them, trying to capture the final event. It would take them months, 
years even, to sift through the data and even longer to figure out 
what was happening. If they ever did.
     “<It’s bloody well amazing...>” He said to the Professor. “<I 
honestly never thought I’d see this moment.>”
     McFogg puffed on his pipe. “<I never doubted it,>” he replied. 
“<Diomedes and André trod the path for us, all we had to do was 
follow and persevere.>”
     Casimir set his hand on McFogg’s shoulder. “<I can die a happy 
man now, Balthazar.>”
     “<I wish you would stay around instead,>” McFogg replied.
     Mister Clay laughed then.
     “<As do I,>” he said. “<I think I shall join them below. I want 
to feel the final event from up close.>”
     Ferguson looked to Katy, who was watching the Maia sing below 
in awe.
     “<What do you think, love?>” He asked her.
     “<That I never doubted you for a second,>” she replied without 
looking at him. “<I knew you would get the model to work. I just had 
to get you angry enough to do it.>”
     Even Nabiki was put off from her grief just a little by the glory 
of what transpired at the bottom of the hill. Her songbirds flew lazy 
circles around her, singing to her, and with the song of the Maia. She 
held her head up high, knowing that Ranma would escape whatever trap 
that had been laid for them. He was the greatest martial artist she 
had ever known after all. She also trusted to her sister’s stubbornness 
and great strength of will that she would never give up until Ranma 
was safe. Let Palandir meet his fate at the hands of Aerandir. Sarophan 
too. For Ukyo’s sake.


     Ranma felt the days pass by in a blur. He and Ukyo were becoming 
fast friends again. Perhaps a little bit more. Every chance he could get 
away from the dojo and his violent, uncute fiancée, he was spending 
with his Ucchan. 
     “Hi Ranchan,” she greeted him with her gorgeous smile and her 
flashing green eyes. He couldn’t get over how beautiful she was. 
     **Why?** he thought. **Why did my old man have to take me 
away from her? I like Ucchan more than I’ll ever like Akane... Can’t 
he see that I’m not happy at the dojo? Doesn’t he even care how I 
feel?**
     He knew the answer of course. Genma Saotome couldn’t give a 
rat’s ass about his son’s feelings. There was only his stupid selfish 
desires. He had spent the last ten years of his life on the road trying 
to fulfill his father’s dreams. He knew the only reason he agreed to 
engage his son to one of the Tendo girls was so that he could move 
in to a nice big house and be waited on hand and foot, and have his 
son and daughter-in-law take care of him for the rest of his days. 
Doubtless Mister Tendo offered so that he could retire and give the 
dojo to him for the same reason.
     Another example had been what he had done to poor Ucchan. 
He promised Ranma to her just so he could get the Kuonji okonomiyaki 
yatai as a dowry. He was thinking of his stomach, and not of the little 
girl whose life he was destroying. Even if Ranma didn’t realize that 
Ukyo was a girl, his father did, and had never even asked him 
properly when he gave him the choice. 
     His fists clenched tightly at that one. **Some choice... ‘Which do 
you like better, Ukyo or okonomiyaki?’ When you’re a little boy on 
the road with your dead beat old man, and you never know when or 
where your next meal is coming from, what do you think you’re 
gonna answer?**
     She read the look on his face.
     “You have another bad day with Akane today?” She asked him.
     “Yeah...” He replied. “But it’s more than that, too.”
     “Well come on sugar, I’ll walk with you back to my place and fix 
you something to eat. You can talk to me about it on the way.”
     He smiled for her.
     “Thanks Ucchan. You’re the best.”
     She winked at him.
     “I’m your fiancée, remember?”
     He flushed a little at this, but in truth the thought of being 
with Ukyo for the rest of his life was making his heart beat hard and 
fast in his chest. He wasn’t sure if he loved her enough to marry, but 
he couldn’t think of anyone else he would rather be with -at least as 
a friend. Especially Akane, who in addition to being violent, sexless, 
and uncute, was also the world’s most deadly cook, was all thumbs when 
it came to anything other than smashing bricks (or his head), and... 
He could go on, but the thought of it only made him bitter.
     “What’s the matter, Ranchan?”
     He sighed. 
     “I was just thinking about what my stupid old man did to you... 
I’m really sorry Ucchan... I hate him for what he did to you and for 
tricking me into betraying you.”
     Ukyo blushed. “I-It’s okay Ranchan. I forgave you the day we met 
again. I just want to be friends again...”
     Now it was Ranma’s turn to blush. Ukyo was brave and took his 
hand in hers. He jumped a little at the touch, but didn’t let go. 
     “I-I like you a lot,” Ranma said, face still flushed red. “You’re 
my best friend, Ukyo.”
     She smiled for him. “Maybe we can be more than friends someday...”
     He smiled back, even though his face was on fire. “I-I’d really, 
um, I’d really like that, Ucchan.” 
     She laughed. “That’s just because I’d make a better wife than Akane 
any day,” she said in a joking tone that concealed her most heartfelt 
desires.
     “You said it!” Ranma laughed in reply.


     Akane’s heart leaped when she found Ranma and Ukyo walking 
along the trees and then into a clearing. She called to them, but 
neither responded. They gave no sign of even hearing her.
     “What’s the matter with them?” She asked Minhiriath.
     The Maia astronomer narrowed his eyes in concentration at them.
     “I’m not familiar with the technique,” he replied. “I think it’s 
some kind of induced dreamstate. It seems as if they are being made to 
relive the past, only it is an altered series of events. I can feel 
Sarophan’s influence on them, so whatever it is they are experiencing, 
it is only furthering his ends.”
     Hiro shrugged. “So what do we do? Go over there and wake them 
up?”
     “I think that would be a bad idea,” Minhiriath declared. “I’m not 
familiar with such invasive psionic techniques. It could trap them there 
forever.”
     Akane wasn’t listening to him, because she just watched Ukyo take 
Ranma’s hand, and he hadn’t done anything about it. She moved closer 
to listen in on what they were saying. If they couldn’t hear her, then 
they probably couldn’t see her as well. She got close enough in time to 
hear Ukyo make her remark about being a better wife than her, and Ranma 
agreed!
     Akane couldn’t believe what he’d just heard from him!
     “Why that...” She menaced, unable to continue. Pain and anger 
welled up from within her heart. Her fists clenched tightly.
     “Take it easy Akane,” Hiro soothed. “You know he doesn’t really 
mean it.”
     “That bastard!” She spat softly, ignoring Hiro.
     “It’s the spell talking, it’s not him.”
     “I love him!” She continued, oblivious to Hiro’s words. “He knows 
it. How can he say that?” A tear ran down her face. “He wants to 
marry me...”


     “Do you really mean that, Ranchan?” Ukyo asked him softly. “Do 
you really think I’d make a better wife than Akane?”
     “There ain’t any doubt about that,” Ranma replied. “You’re nice to 
me. You don’t clobber me without any reason. You can cook. You’re 
my friend...”
     Ukyo began to tear about her glittering green eyes. 
     “Thank you Ranma,” she whispered. “That makes me feel very happy.”
     Ranma looked at her, marveling at her beauty. “I don’t ever want 
you to be unhappy, Ucchan. Ever. I’m sorry I ever had to be engaged to 
Akane.”
     “But you were engaged to me first,” Ukyo replied hopefully.
     Ranma’s eyes lit up. “I never thought about that.”


     Akane began to glow with an eery blue light. Hiro jumped back, 
not knowing what kind of grief was about to come Ranma’s way, and 
hoping it didn’t have a blast radius. She surged forward, ready to beat 
the daylights out of Ranma. Tears flowed down her face, and her sobs 
came between her whispered curses.
     Minhiriath put a hand on her shoulder to stop her. She shrugged it 
off with a grunt. She was going to clobber him, and that was that. He 
thought she was violent before, now she was going to show him what 
violence really was!
     “Akane! You mustn’t!” Minhiriath pleaded.
     “Why shouldn’t I pound the two-timing jerk into jelly for betraying 
me!” She cried near the point of collapse. Only her anger was keeping 
her from becoming a weeping wreck on the ground.
     “If you do that you will lose him forever. I am certain that that is 
the reason why Palandir let you and Nabiki go. He expects you to 
respond like this.”
     Akane held herself in check. It was a tenuous hold at best.
     “You’ve got thirty seconds to explain yourself.”
     “Ranma and Ukyo may not be able to see or hear you, but they 
can feel you. Your aura at least. You as a martial artist should know 
that your ki is charged with your emotions. You flavor them with 
yourself. If you say hateful and hurtful things to him, if you beat him 
and curse him, he will not see or hear you, or respond openly in any 
way. But he will feel you. It will only drive him further away from you. 
Jealousy, anger, and hate are not what you want to give to him. You 
must give him your love instead.”
     She sniffled and wiped away her tears. 
     “Go to him,” he said, pointing towards Ranma and Ukyo. “But 
pretend to be upset with him, let it flow from you until you reach him. 
I fear Palandir is watching us, and he will not hesitate to kill you if 
he thinks you will break the spell that Sarophan has woven around them. 
You must let him think that you are playing into their hands.”
     “He won’t touch her,” Hiro vowed. He held up his rifle. “I even 
see him and I’m shooting first and introducing myself to his corpse.”
     “Go, quickly now! We shall lie in wait.” Minhiriath gave her a 
gentle prod. The Maia astronomer and Hiro retreated to the cover 
of the trees. Minhiriath was using his talents to keep them concealed 
from minds as well as eyes.



                         *       *       *



     The first baby was born. They held the child up for all to see, 
and the Maiar’s cheer overwhelmed the tiny boy’s cries. His mother 
stood, letting the rejuvenating energies of the Heart of the World 
restore her. She presented her son to his father, who held him 
close and kissed his tiny brow. The Maiar cheered a second time.
     Clay smiled from the edge of the circle. It was good to see all 
of the Maiar together. It lent him hope that they could actually 
resolve the conflict between Sarophan and Nimatar. That there 
would be no bloodshed. He devoted himself to opening up his 
soul to the Heart of the World. As a true psychic it was a sort 
of ultimate communion with himself and with the universe. He 
understood why the Maia attached a certain sacramental quality 
to the event.
     Ryoga Hibiki felt the energies of the Heart of the World flow 
through him. He was testing them, trying to see how they mingled 
with the magical power of the curse within him. He didn’t have much 
time to figure it out.



                       *       *       *



     “Oh Ranchan, do you think we could be married some day?”
     Ranma blushed red. He liked Ukyo, more than any other girl he 
had known. But marriage? He tried to think of something to placate 
her without committing himself.
     “I suppose,” he said. “Anything’s possible.”
     Ukyo took him into a hug. He found his arms circling around her.

     Akane came up to them. The sight of Ranma hugging Ukyo lashed 
at her already fragile heart. She didn’t have to pretend to be angry, 
on the contrary she was more worried that she would be able to 
show any kind of love for him in the face of this.
     She called to them. There was nothing. She touched them 
tentatively. They didn’t respond. They were lost in some kind of 
dream based on their past, a past where Akane Tendo had no part 
except as the demon that drove Ranma into Ukyo’s arms.
     She had said hateful and hurtful things to him before. She had 
beaten on him and he had suffered it without ever hitting back. She 
began to cry because of all of those things she had done to him. 
Even if he might have deserved them upon occasion, she was now 
so sorry for it.
     She looked down at her heart. The red string connecting her to 
Ranma was fading away.
     **No!** She cried in her mind. **I’m losing him!**
     “Ranma, I love you!” She cried to him. There was no response.
     “I love you!” She told him again. “I’m sorry for all of those 
terrible things I said and did to you! I’ve always loved you! I just 
never knew how to show you before...”

     Ranma nuzzled against Ukyo’s neck as he breathed in the perfume 
of her hair. This was a first for him, to be hugged like this. Time 
passed slowly as they rocked in each other’s arms. Then, for no reason 
he could discern, he thought of Akane as he held Ukyo tightly. 
     **Why would I think about that tomboy right now? Ukyo is the one 
I care about...**
     “I love you Ranchan. I love you with all of my heart!” Ukyo 
whispered into his ear then.
     His heart leaped at her words. He had never had a girl tell him 
that she loved him before. He knew she meant every word. A sudden peace 
and happiness welled within him as he squeezed her tighter. He was 
about to tell her that he loved her when he thought of Akane again.

     “Please Ranma, come back to me,” Akane pleaded softly. “I can’t 
go on without you.”

     He let go of Ukyo. She put her hands up to his face instead, 
closing her eyes and leaning forward to kiss him. His heart began 
racing because she was so cute and she wanted him to kiss her. He 
cast aside all thoughts of Akane and leaned forward to accept 
Ukyo’s kiss.

     The red string was almost gone. She couldn’t think of anything 
else to do or say. Nothing worked. Despair welled up within her, 
drowning even her anger.
     She heard Palandir’s laughter inside of her mind. He was mocking 
her. He was laughing at her broken heart because without Ranma by 
her side she couldn’t hope to stop Sarophan from seizing the Heart 
of the World.
     His laughter was motivating, for now she had an idea. There was 
only one thing left for her to do. Fight for Ranma!
     She pushed Ukyo aside with all of her might, throwing the woman 
to the ground. As Ranma moved to kiss Ukyo, Akane stepped in and 
intercepted his lips. She kissed him as fully and as deeply as she 
could, putting all of her love for him into it.
     He put his arms around her and held her tight. She began to cry 
silently as she kissed him. She tried to think of all the good times 
they’d shared. All those quiet moments when they could speak their 
hearts to each other. The way he had looked at her right before their 
disastrous first wedding attempt. His promise to come home safely from 
the war. His proposal to her in Monaco and how beautiful it was; how 
beautiful she thought he was. The intimacy and unity of fighting 
together as one. Making love to each other for the first time.
     Ranma went to kiss Ukyo, but as his lips closed on hers, he found 
he was kissing Akane instead. His mind spun circles of confusion, but 
Akane wouldn’t let him go. He felt her love flood through him. 
     **This ain’t right,** he thought suddenly, but still in her 
wonderful embrace. **She’s a tomboy, and she can’t stand me! Why is 
she doing this?... Does she love me?... I thought she hated me...**
     Akane wouldn’t let him go, and suddenly he didn’t want her to. He 
returned her kiss with equal passion and love. Her tears came full 
force as she knew that it was working. She broke from the kiss and 
hugged him with back popping might. His spine crackled in appreciation 
for the strength of her affection.
     It was the pain that jolted him back into reality.
     Ranma lifted her off the ground and turned her around in the air.
     “Hey I love you too Akane, but don’t you think we’ve got other 
things to take care of first?” He asked her with a chuckle. It was like 
he wasn’t even aware that anything was wrong. That anything had 
happened between Ukyo and himself.
     Ukyo was starting to come around as well. She looked up from 
the ground where she landed, and to Ranma suspending Akane in 
the air happily. Tears welled at her eyes. She had lost him to Akane. 
Lost him forever. She was betrayed by Sarophan even as she had 
betrayed her friends.

     “I think it worked!” Hiro cried.
     “Keep your eyes open for Palandir,” Minhiriath admonished.

     Ranma looked down to Ukyo. He set Akane on her feet and 
offered his hand to her.
     “You okay Ucchan? We were worried about you.”
     She nodded weakly. She was unable to stand it any longer. She 
scrambled to her feet and ran away crying. Ranma called to her and 
started after her, but Akane tripped him. He landed face first on the 
ground.
     “What the hell was that for?” He demanded.
     “That’s how I lost you the first time!” Akane yelled back. 
     “What are you talking about?”
     “I’ll explain later, just let her go. We need you back at the 
circle right now.”
     He got to his feet and brushed away his clothes.
     “I feel like I’m missing something here.”
     “That’s because you are, you dope! Trust me already,” Akane 
retorted.
     Palandir’s voice rang out in the air above them.
     “Six of one, half dozen of the other I suppose,” he told them.
     They looked up to see him floating above them. His hand crackled 
with power.
     “Dead is just as good as preoccupied as far as I’m concerned,” he 
finished.
     Hiro sprang from the trees and into the clearing as Palandir 
appeared. Minhiriath was close behind. Green fire danced on his spear.
     “Die you bastard!” Hiro yelled. He burned his entire rifle magazine 
at Palandir.
     The Maia brought up his hand, and in a wave of blurry air deflected 
the bullets with golden sparks. He laughed arrogantly at him.
     “Oh boy...” Hiro muttered.
     “Run away from him, Ranma! Get back to the circle at once, that 
is where you are needed!” Minhiriath cried. Green fire sprayed from 
the tip of his spear at Palandir. Palandir side stepped the flames and 
launched his fireball of ki energy at the Maia instead. Minhiriath was 
blown backwards through the trees in a spray of blue-white flames. 
Ranma and Akane started running.
     “Did that hurt, Elentirmo?” He called to the trees mockingly. There 
was no response.
     He watched Ranma and Akane run, and then looked to Hiro, who 
had reloaded his rifle.
     “I was merciful to Elentirmo, he shall likely survive. _You_ on the 
other hand...”
     Ranma wasn’t about to get blasted in the back while he ran. If he 
was going to die, it was going to be fighting. He stopped and faced 
Palandir. Akane stepped up to his side and looked defiantly at the 
Maia. Palandir had to admire their bravado.
     Hiro on the other hand...
     “You idiots!” He yelled at them. “Leave this clown to me! Go!”
     He switched to semiautomatic, and fired at Palandir.
     The Maia grunted in concentration as the muzzle of the rifle 
flashed. He turned the bullet aside. As he did so, Hiro fired once more, 
deliberately delaying the Maia’s attack to buy time for Ranma and 
Akane to escape. Palandir turned it aside as well, but was devoting 
his concentration away from the two in the process.
     “GO!!!” He screamed at them. “How big do you think my magazine 
is, anyway?!”
     Ranma didn’t want to leave any more than Akane did, but 
understood what Hiro was doing. He took her hand and started 
running for the trees. Palandir hauled back with another ki-blast, 
but Hiro blasted a hole through his arm with the G-3. Unfortunately 
he was aiming for Palandir’s _head._
     “Don’t ever turn your back on me, asshole!” He yelled at the Maia.
     Palandir bit down at the pain in his arm. Blood flowed freely down 
his bicep as he stanched the flow with a thought, and tried to keep an 
eye on Hiro and the fleeing Ranma and Akane at the same time.
     Hiro fired again. The Maia turned the bullet.
     “You like this?!” Hiro taunted him. “This is _my_ magic trick! Not 
very sophisticated, I know, but damn effective I think!” He fired again.
     Palandir grit his teeth and deflected it. Hiro wasn’t giving him 
any time to think, as he was firing with just enough randomness to keep 
him guessing. It was all he could do to keep turning the bullets aside. 
Hiro meanwhile had backed off to the shelter of some large boulders 
at the shoulders of the Crown of Eternity.
     Unfortunately Hiro miscalculated the number of rounds he had 
remaining in his excitement. When the bolt locked open on an empty 
magazine, he was just as surprised as Palandir. Palandir didn’t stay 
surprised for long. 
     He reached up and summoned a ki blast in his good hand. He 
smiled evilly at Hiro as he prepared to throw it. There wasn’t time 
for Hiro to do anything, and he had nowhere to go. He lowered the 
rifle and stared Palandir in the eyes defiantly.
     “Oh yeah,” he said tiredly. “This is gonna hurt...”


     Ranma and Akane heard the huge explosion behind them, and 
knew that Hiro’s bullets had run out. Akane began to weep silently 
for him. Ranma felt a cold lump in his stomach at the thought of what 
had just happened. Rocks rained down around them, trailing wisps 
of smoke.


     The last child had been born, and been taken out of the circle. The 
song ended. Sarophan stepped over to the prism to seize the Heart of 
the World. Voices were raised in protest and encouragement as all saw 
what he was about to do.
     “Do not do this, Uncle!” Aerandir said sternly.
     Sarophan looked back to him.
     “You are no longer my nephew for your betrayal and for the breaking 
of your vow to me.”
     “My vow to the world and its people comes first,” Aerandir replied.
     “We implore you to wait, Sarophan,” Nimatar cried.
     “Wait? I have waited 88 years for another chance.”
     “Wait one more cycle,” Nimatar continued. “These people are 
starting to realize their role in this world. They are starting to 
become responsible for it. Give them a chance to prove themselves.”
     “Please listen to him, Sarophan,” Anazali’s brother Urthel said.
     “Give them more time,” Anazali added.
     “Too little too late,” Sarophan replied. “There are too few of 
them and they can do only a little. It is not enough.” 
     Aerandir gripped his sword tightly at his side.
     Sarophan’s silvery eyes flashed. “Don’t you see? This is our only 
hope, and you turn away from it! You should be joining me!” He 
looked to the assembled Maiar. 
     “I welcome any who would help me in this endeavor!” He called 
to them. 
     They waited, wanting to see what Aerandir and the other fighters 
were doing.
     “You forget yourself, Uncle!” Aerandir cried. “We are the _servants_ 
of the human race! If you do this and take the Heart of the World, no 
matter what your intentions may have been, you will become their master!”
     “I do not seek to be master of anyone but myself! When the damage 
to the world is repaired and our cousins enlightened, I shall let the 
Heart of the World go.”
     “It will be worse than the drowning of Maianar!” A Maia cried.
     “At what cost!” Another asked with a shout. “How long will that 
be, and how long can you really hope to hold the Heart of the World?”
     “As long as necessary,” Sarophan replied. “I will not hear your 
words anymore. If you wish to join me in creating a bright future for 
this world, then stay. If not, then I suggest you leave this place at 
once. Your business here is complete.”
     “My business here is not complete until that prism is smashed,” 
Aerandir intoned. “Though I weep at spilling Maia blood, I will fight 
and I will die to see that cursed thing laid to waste.” He drew his 
sword, and silver fire licked upon the blade.
     “So be it, Aerandir!” One of Sarophan’s own warriors cried. His 
spear flashed red. Energy blasts formed in glittering hands. Maiar 
clutched weapons tightly, preparing themselves.
     In the distance they could hear the staccato cracks of Hiro’s 
rifle, followed by a great explosion. There was a brief silence.
     Then the battle began.



                             Chapter Five



     Ivan Tarchenko and his men heard the shooting in the valley below 
them as they made their way down the steep trail that led from a narrow 
pass through the Crown of Eternity. He wondered what could be going 
on. Fyodor and his men swept down the flank to scout ahead. He sent 
the rest of his men to sweep straight towards the prism.
     The platoons of soldiers moved out without hesitation. The 
battalion commander estimated that they could reach the prism in 
fifteen minutes without resistance. They were instructed to shoot 
first in any event, whether there was resistance or not.
     Fyodor’s team was a few hundred meters ahead of the main body 
of the battalion. Radio communications weren’t working, and so they 
had to send runners to pass messages. Fyodor was holding on to his 
men as long as possible. Unless he found something that required 
immediate dispatch, he was going to keep Tarchenko in the dark.
     From the cover of trees he spied McFogg’s research group atop 
the low hill that stood between them and their objective. He also spied 
Doctor Casimir. The man was a standing target of opportunity, and 
Fyodor was tired of opportunities slipping through his fingers. He 
signaled his men to advance.


     Nabiki gasped in fright as the fighting began with unbelievable 
ferocity below them in the circle. Ferguson tried to signal his people 
on the other side of the circle to get clear and head for Bettie’s Dare. 
There was no guarantee that the battle wouldn’t rage up the hill and 
sweep them up with it. She tried to find Kuno in the blazing light of 
energy blasts and flashing fiery steel. She couldn’t, and her throat 
began to tighten and her eyes smart.
     Professor McFogg began cursing for Durango and D-Day, but 
the two pilots were no where to be found. 
     “<Everyone back to the seaplane!>” He ordered. “Leave the 
equipment! Your lives are more important.>”
     The younger researchers didn’t hesitate. It was Ferguson, Clay, 
Ames, and Katy Price that weren’t going anywhere. West was busy 
recording the battle on his camcorder.
     “<Didn’t you hear me!>” The Professor yelled at them. “<Your 
lives aren’t worth this! Go!>”
     Doctor Casimir put a steadying hand on the Professor’s shoulder. 
“<This has become their life, Balthazar. They can no more turn their 
backs on it than you can. I certainly don’t see you running for the 
plane.>”


     The battle was turning against Aerandir and his warriors. Sarophan 
had more fighters and more powerful fighters at that. Several Maia were 
already lying on the ground near death, trying to use the energy of the 
Heart of the World to save themselves. Other energy blasts flew through 
the air, lighting it up with every color imaginable.
     Anazali turned away a spear thrust meant for his chest, and he in 
turn batted away the sword blow meant for her. One of Nimatar’s men was 
blasted into the air with a great explosion of golden light. He flew 
past them mortally wounded. Others wheeled and clashed in the air above 
them.
     He couldn’t believe they were killing each other like this. It was 
the last thing he wanted, but it was their only choice. Sarophan would 
cause far more hurt if he succeeded.
     “Fall back!” he ordered.
They began to withdraw. Sarophan’s forces let them disengage. They 
were trying to avoid casualties as well. He spotted Kuno, who was 
wounded but standing. Blood flowed down his left arm where a sword 
tip had struck while his attention was elsewhere. Ryoga was still 
standing as well, fists bloody and bruised. His tunic was torn, 
exposing the glittering mail beneath.
     They pulled back to a line of trees at the edge of the circle. 
Their spears held back Sarophans’s skirmishers. Past them they could 
see Sarophan himself standing next to the prism. More Maiar stood 
between him and Aerandir’s men. They were raising a wall of force 
to protect their master.
     Ryoga was panting for breath. His blows could knock down walls, 
but some of his opponents had laughed them off. Only his tenacity 
matched with his ferocity had allowed him to prevail, but now he was 
exhausted. He saw that Kuno was wounded, but the swordsman 
refused to be concerned. 
     “We must have Ranma and Akane, or all that we do is spend 
ourselves for naught,” Aerandir said to his fighters. “I want six of 
you to split off by pairs and look for them. Watch for my brother, 
and try to avoid pursuit. The rest of us shall make a cautious advance 
on the prism to keep them busy.”
     Six detached themselves as the rest formed up into a wedge. 
The Maiar most proficient in throwing energy blasts took to the air 
while the weapons masters braced for their advance. Sarophan’s 
warriors stood ready to repel the attack. The wall of force came up 
around the prism.


     Sarophan reached out through the white pyramid that was prism, 
focus, window, and door. Through it he could gather the energy of the 
Heart of the World, that very link between the Earth and the rest of 
the universe. His mind began to open to those forces of creation and 
life.


     Fyodor advanced up the hill with his squad. As they reached the 
top, he gave the order and they opened fire. Screams of pain and 
fright mingled with the roar of gunfire. Blood splashed everywhere 
as people fell. 
     Doctor Casimir was the first to fall, shot through and through 
five times by Fyodor. His eyes glazed over and he slumped over 
Professor McFogg, who was pushed over in that instant and spared. 
Ames wasn’t as fortunate as he and a few undergrads were cut down in 
the fusillade. Ferguson saw Katy Price get hit in the back and 
scrambled towards her. Clay took a bullet in the leg and dropped to 
the ground. West turned with the camcorder in time to film the 
scientist cradling her limp form in his arms. Then he was hit in 
the stomach and fell.
     Nabiki was bowled over by a fleeing student, feeling the bullets 
zip over her head as she fell backwards. The student made it another 
meter before dying of numerous gunshot wounds. She screamed in terror 
with all her strength before she fell.


     As Aerandir’s warriors made their advance, Tatewaki Kuno heard 
Nabiki scream. His head turned in time to see her fall, and to see 
men in arctic camouflage fatigues murdering the scientists. His 
guttural snarl of rage and heartsickness rolled out from his lips, 
louder than the rest of the battle. More gunfire broke out across 
the valley. The Maiar could see the Russians flooding down into the 
valley and shooting everything that moved.
     He broke ranks and charged at Sarophan’s line. Ryoga bellowed 
for him to come back, but for Tatewaki Kuno, the shortest distance 
to Nabiki was straight through them. He raised his katana on high as 
he charged. Blue flames rushed along the blade, licking into the air a 
good meter beyond the tip of the sword.
     They couldn’t stop him. He turned their ki-blasts aside with his 
sword. He charged straight at them, but as the sounds of gunfire 
echoed across the valley, it became clear to them that the swordsman 
had no intentions of reaching Sarophan or the prism. They let him pass 
without further attack.
     Many of Sarophan’s warriors were outraged by the intrusion of 
the Russians and broke ranks as well. The noncombatants among the 
Maiar were close by, and it was plainly obvious that Russians didn’t 
care about taking prisoners or showing mercy. In an instant the battle 
between the two Maiar factions had become a united fight against the 
battalion of Russian troops that had invaded the Crown of Eternity. 
Only a line of Sarophan’s men and those that kept up the wall of 
force stood against the Aerandir, Anazali, Urthel, Ryoga, and a 
handful of other Maia.

     Fyodor loomed over Nabiki and smiled. 
     “Itak, vye zdes!”
     He hadn’t expected to see her here, but he had hoped. It was time 
to clean up a few loose ends. He leveled his rifle at her, motioning for 
her to put her back to the downward slope that faced the circle. That 
way when he shot her to death, he would be rewarded with her 
spectacular death dive down the hill.
     Nabiki closed her eyes. This wasn’t how she was expecting to die. 
She certainly wasn’t ready to go yet. There was too much left undone.
     “Ya gotova,” Fyodor told her. “Eto basha ohchered krovotochyiet.”
     She threw herself at him with a scream. She was not going to stand 
there and die.
     Fyodor was mildly amused as he caught her across the forehead 
with his rifle butt. She landed flat on her back with a gasp as the wind 
was knocked out of her. Fyodor let her gasp and cough for breath as 
part of the squad moved down the hill.
     “Stand up,” he growled in broken Japanese. 
     Nabiki stood, slowly, wobbling. He pushed her several meters back 
with the muzzle of his rifle. She glared at him again, blood trickling 
down her face.
     Fyodor clenched his teeth and squeezed the trigger.
     Nabiki watched the first flash erupt from the muzzle with an eery 
calm. She never saw any of the others, even though Fyodor had 
decided to spend the entire magazine on her. She heard the reports 
though, distantly.
     She never saw any of the other muzzle flashes because all of a 
sudden someone was standing in the way. Someone tall and handsome 
with a flashing fiery katana in his hands. Someone who was shouting 
at the top of his lungs, “The Hundred Blows!”
     She passed out as the dizziness from the blow to her head took 
hold of her.
     Tatewaki Kuno’s sword flashed with sparkling blue flames as he 
struck again and again at the burst of rifle fire that sought to take 
Nabiki’s most precious life. His speed was blinding, the blade 
swatting each bullet away and coming back to catch the next one 
just in time.
     A furious spray of grass and sod blew up between swordsman 
and soldier as the deflected rounds burst into the ground before them. 
Kuno stood over Nabiki’s fallen body, sword roaring with the spectral 
blue flames of his ki. All concentration was focused upon Fyodor, and 
once again he did not notice the flames.
     Fyodor did notice the flames. So did the two others that had 
remained with Fyodor. As the big Ukrainian stepped back to put 
distance between himself and Kuno, his two men rushed the 
swordsman. 
     Kuno lashed out with a graceful stroke that started low, with him 
nearly bent double at the waist. The first burst of gunfire sailed over 
his head by mere inches. His blade came up to catch the man across 
the throat. In a fluid motion he sprang up, sidestepping the second 
man’s burst and neatly beheading him with a backhanded swing. 
Fyodor had wisely chosen this point to make a strategic retreat that 
he might gun the man down unawares later.
     Kuno would have pursued had he not remembered that Nabiki 
was injured. How severely he did not know, but that was of little 
consequence. She was injured, therefore he must help her, even 
though he be denied the opportunity to slay what had become his 
very nemesis these last few weeks.
     Nabiki lived. So did Ferguson, Clay, and the Professor. West 
was badly injured. Kuno ignored them as he knelt over Nabiki. She 
had a bloody gash over her forehead where Fyodor’s rifle had struck 
her. Not a single bullet had touched her, however. 
     He took her up gently into his arms as the sounds of gunfire and 
ki blasts rippled across the Crown of Eternity. His sword he lay upon 
the bloody grass by his side. She was starting to come around as he 
held her and wept silently.
     “Hey Tate-chan,” she whispered fondly to him.
     He opened his tearstained eyes. 
     “How gravely art thou wounded, Nabiki?” He asked her.
     She rubbed at her head and groaned when she saw the blood that 
came away. “Nothing mortal, Tate-chan. I’ll be okay; I just need to 
lie down or something. I’m a little dizzy.”
     “You must stand, Nabiki. You must stay awake. You have a head 
injury.”
     The Professor limped over to them. He placed a hand on Kuno’s 
shoulder.
     “<Do not worry young man,  I shall look after her.>”
     Kuno looked up at him. He was hit in the arm and ankle and bled 
slowly as he stood over him. 
     “<You are wounded as well,>” Kuno observed. “<I shall stay and 
look after her myself.>”
     The Professor waved him off tiredly.
     “<Nonsense, man. I have suffered far worse than this. You are 
needed with Aerandir and the others. Ferguson, Clay, and I shall 
see her to the encampment. There are healers among the Maia who 
can look after us all.>”
     Kuno looked to Ferguson, who continued to cradle the lifeless 
form of Katy Price. The scientist looked up at them, grief-stricken. 
The Professor motioned for him to stand. 
     “<Let her be, Ferguson. There is nothing you can do for her. I 
will need help with West and the other wounded.>”
     Ferguson nodded slowly and lay Katy gently upon the grass.
     McFogg looked back to Kuno.
     “<Go now young man. Your sword is needed elsewhere.>”
     Nabiki struggled to her feet.
     “He’s right Tate-chan. We’ll be okay, the fighting is moving 
outwards away from the center,” she told him. They could see it 
clearly enough, the gunsmoke and the flashes of light from ki blasts 
was moving away from circle. Within the circle there was only a 
standoff. 
     “I have left you once to your own devices Nabiki,” he rebuked. 
“I cannot again until I am certain that you are safe. I swear upon my 
life before the very heavens that you shall come to no more harm this 
day. Therefore I shall accompany thee to the camp.”
     Nabiki’s head hurt too much for an argument. She also understood 
that they weren’t out of danger yet. Kuno’s sword might indeed come 
in handy.
     “Come on Tate-chan,” she said tiredly. “At this rate the fight’ll 
be over before you get back into it. You still owe them twenty-fold for 
what they’ve done to me, remember?”
     “Nay, Nabiki. I shall split the sky itself with my wrath.”
     They hobbled down the hill towards Nimatar’s encampment, fearful 
that they would be attacked again. Ferguson and Clay carried the 
unconscious West. Kuno cradled Nabiki in his arms. Her songbirds 
had survived the onslaught, and now cooed gently for her as they 
perched on Kuno’s shoulder.



                         *       *       *



     Ranma and Akane made it to the circle just as the Russians began 
clashing with the Maiar. Neither was certain about what was going 
on, especially since they thought that the only ones carrying guns were 
Hiro and the two pilots. Palandir was somewhere behind them, and 
that thought drove them on.
     Aerandir looked away from the skirmish line in time to see Ranma 
and Akane burst into the circle. He ordered his warriors to disengage 
from their cautious probes and form around them. Anazali and Urthel 
were the first to reach them.
     “Where have you been?” Anazali cried.
     “We ran into that guy Palandir, he should be right behind us!” 
Ranma replied.
     The ground blew up close by to illustrate his point.
     Palandir received a volley of answering blasts from Aerandir’s 
warriors as he floated in the air above a copse of trees. He shrugged 
them off with a laugh. His finger was leveled at Ranma and Akane, 
and electricity leaped up from the ground to wreath him in blinding 
blue light as he gathered the power for his attack.
     “You’ve been very troublesome about this,” he intoned. “Now to 
ashes with you!”
     Ranma spun around on his heels in time to see the bolt of lightning 
fly. He pushed at Akane with all of his might to get her out of the way. 
That left little time for himself to do the same. He clenched his teeth 
in that millisecond of dread that he had left to wait.
     The bolt of lightning arced out at him only to be seized up in a 
brilliant flash of light upon steel as Ukyo leaped out of nowhere to 
catch it with her battle spatula. She spun around in midair with 
electricity crackling all over her body. At the end of her spin she 
whipped the bolt of lightning back at Palandir with her spatula and 
a great cry of pain and effort.
     The bolt struck him dead on, propelling him backwards through 
the air trailing smoke and motes of blue-white light. The thunderclap 
report only then struck their ears. Ukyo fell to the ground with wisps 
of smoke rising from her trembling body. Her hair was standing on end.
     Ranma rushed over to her, as did Akane and Anazali. Urthel kept 
the watch for Palandir. He knew the Maia was capable of taking that 
much punishment and coming back for more.
     “Ucchan!” Ranma cried.
     Ukyo looked up at him with a teary smile.
     “Ucchan! Are you okay?” 
     She nodded weakly. “Give me a second to catch my breath, honey.”
     Ranma hugged her tightly and then let her go. “Where did you learn 
how to do that? That was amazing!”
     “Sarophan taught me,” she replied. A sob wracked her. “I was 
supposed to use it on you if you tried to stop him,” she whispered.
     “But why?” Akane asked.
     Ukyo lowered her eyes.
     “You know why...” She managed.
     “For Ranma?” Akane asked softly.
     “Huh?” Ranma grunted. “Ucchan, you know how I feel about Akane.”
     “I know,” she sobbed bitterly. “I thought I had a chance,” she 
continued. “Sarophan made it sound like no one would get hurt... 
He lied to me.”
     She clasped Ranma and Akane’s hands in hers.
     “I love both of you,” she said to them. “I couldn’t hurt either of 
you... Forgive me.”
     Akane saw how much Ukyo hurt to have betrayed them, how sorry 
she was. As much as she wanted to throttle her for trying to take Ranma 
away, she couldn’t find it in her heart to stay angry with her. Ukyo was 
her friend. She still believed that.
     “I... I forgive you Ukyo,” she said to her. She squeezed Ukyo’s 
hand in hers.
     Ranma kissed her forehead softly. “I forgive you too, Ucchan.” His 
voice became low and gravelly as he looked across the huge grassy 
circle to the prism and Sarophan. “I know who’s gonna pay for this...” 
     **Nobody does this to Ucchan...**
     He took Akane’s hand in his.
     “Come on Akane, here’s where we finish this.”
     They stood and faced the prism. Ryoga and Aerandir joined them 
a moment later. Sarophan stood oblivious to them, though his warriors 
knew that the two young Japanese were a serious threat. They braced 
for another attack.
     “Look after Ukyo,” Ranma told Ryoga. 
     “Who’s gonna keep you from getting killed?” Ryoga snarled, 
pointing to the Maia who guarded the prism. 
     “Then it’ll have to be you, I guess,” Ranma replied with a grin. 
“If that’s how you want it.”
     Ryoga nodded grimly.
     Ranma offered his hand. Ryoga looked down and clasped him at 
the wrist. They locked hands about each other’s arms and shook, just 
once, but there was power that flowed between them in that instant. 
Ranma’s newly learned sensitivity to such things tipped him off that 
there was something odd about Ryoga. Something unfamiliar. He 
didn’t have time to dwell on it though, and with a firm nod they let go.
     Aerandir was glad to see the two reconciled.
     “I shall deal with Palandir should he recover in time to stop you. 
In the meanwhile you must destroy the prism. I can feel that my uncle 
is very close to seizing the Heart of the World.”
     Ukyo rose unsteadily to her feet.
     “I’ll help you two,” she told Ranma and Akane. “I’ve still got a 
little fight left in me.”
     “You’ve helped us already Ucchan,” Ranma replied.
     “Ranma’s right Ukyo, you’ve done your part. You should rest.” 
Akane told her.
     Ukyo brushed her hair back into some semblance of order with 
her left hand. In her right she clutched her slightly scorched battle 
spatula. The glitter of mail could be seen beneath the rips and tears 
of her clothes.
     “I have a personal stake in this now,” she returned. 
     Her green eyes burned.



                           *       *      *



     Ivan Tarchenko was starting to realize that he was in over his head. 
His battalion of Special Forces had run into a hornet’s nest of advanced 
psionic archetypes. They were blasting his troops to bits. They could 
withstand wounds that would have killed normal men. What few they 
could kill weren’t enough to stem the tide of battle.
     He was about to give the order to retreat, knowing that it meant a 
long march back to the ice shelf and the hoping that they could reach the 
LCACs (Landing Craft Air Cushion; a hovercraft) and helos in time 
to get them back to the ships. As he was about to give the order he 
ran into Fyodor and his squad.
     “There is little opposition near the center,” Fyodor lied. A maniac 
with a flaming sword was a lot of opposition, but if there were enough 
men to engage him, even he couldn’t deflect all of their bullets. “If we 
make a hard push for the center of the valley we can capture the prism.”
     Tarchenko needed some hope. He was a dead man if he didn’t 
succeed. He called his remaining officers and gave them their orders. 
His reserves came down from the rocky slopes and formed up for a 
push on the center of the valley while his remaining forces skirmished 
desperately with the Maia.
     The troops moved out under the cover of the trees towards the 
circle.



                          *       *       *



     Sarophan was close. He could feel the power of the Heart of the 
World coursing through him. He could almost touch it. He just needed 
a little more time to study it and it’s relationship with creation. He 
had been so close before, 88 years ago, and so he knew it wouldn’t take 
long before he was ready to take that final step:
     Snare the Heart of the World and put things to right once again. 
     They would venerate him once he had succeeded. He understood 
their fears, could see why they were afraid. They had never stepped 
within the Heart of the World with the intent of snaring it. They didn’t 
understand how beautiful and timeless creation truly was.
     At the dim fringes of his focused awareness he spied the Wayfinders 
approaching the wall of force his servants had erected around the prism. 
Ianthe was with them. She stood by their side.
     He felt a tugging at his heart. She had failed to win the love of 
Ranma Saotome, or else had been overcome by the love of Akane 
Tendo for him. He wished there was more he could do for her, but 
now it seemed that she chose to make her stand against him. As much 
as it pained him, he would have to stop her, the technique he had taught 
her was too dangerous if used against him.
     With a mental prompt to his warriors, they prepared to battle the 
Wayfinders and their companions. 
     ^Do not do this Sarophan...^
     It was the spirits of the Maia trapped in the Heart of the World.
     Sarophan sighed. **Even you can’t understand, can you?**
     ^We know you have the best of intentions Sarophan, but you are 
mortal like any other man. Your hungers will get the best of you. You 
will destroy this world.^
     **I will free you! Too long have you languished in your prison,** 
he retorted. **You have grown accustomed to it, and so you are 
loathe to leave it behind and pass on into the next realm.**
     ^You do not fully appreciate that which you do Sarophan. This is 
a power the world is not ready for. This is a power even the race of 
Maia is not ready for. Do not follow us into our folly. You have seen 
our beautiful land drown beneath the sea. You have seen how it 
destroyed us.^
     **Enough!** Sarophan thundered. **Must I fight with the timid 
souls of my own kind? **



                         *       *       *



     Tatewaki Kuno and the others made it to Nimatar’s camp. Healers 
were already hard at work tending to the wounds of their own. West 
was given up to their care, as he was the most critically injured among 
them. 
     A Maia looked after Nabiki. While he had no healing Talents of his 
own, he was a fully qualified paramedic living in Southern California 
-when he wasn’t immersed in his real role as one of the secret 
caretakers of the world. The head injury wasn’t life threatening as 
far as he could tell.
     Kuno seemed satisfied and started to leave the camp to rejoin his 
companions at the circle. Nabiki stopped him with a tug at his bloody 
sleeve. He turned around and gave her a stern look.
     “Thank you Tate-chan,” she told him quietly.
     Kuno nodded solemnly.
     “I would spend my life for thee,” he said, and turned away to 
rejoin the battle. Gunfire continued to crackle across the valley, 
answered by the shrills and blasts of answering ki attacks.



                        *       *       *



     Heironymous Durango and D-Day stumbled across Minhiriath as 
they retreated from the Russians. Tarchenko’s men had seized the 
meadow where their Catalina sat in the hopes they could get a 
helicopter working and use the spot as a landing zone. They weren’t 
sure if they would have a seaplane to come back to.
     Minhiriath was alive and intact, although his clothes were burned 
and torn from the ki blast Palandir had thrown at him. He sat up, still 
woozy from the blow, and looked around. 
     “Did Ranma and Akane escape?” He asked the two pilots.
     “<Escape from who? The Russians?>” Durango asked him in reply.
     “No! From Palandir!”
     Durango and D-Day looked at each other and scratched their heads.
     “<Haven’t seen any of your friends except from a distance. They’re 
busy with those damn russkies.>”
     “I hope they did,” Minhiriath said in a low voice. “We must look 
for them.”
     “<You okay to walk, man?>” D-Day asked as he helped the 
golden-skinned Maia to his feet.
     “I shall manage. I can draw upon the energies of the Heart of the 
World if need be.” Minhiriath thought about what he had said. 
Desperately he reached out with his mind and was comforted by the 
fact that it didn’t seem to be bound. Yet. He could feel Sarophan’s 
mind wrapped around it loosely. He was close.
     They searched around the clearing where they had confronted 
Ukyo and then Palandir. Smoke wafted from one end where the 
slopes of the Crown of Eternity reached to the valley. They saw a 
shattered H&K G-3 rifle not far from a smoking crater gouged out 
of the rock.
     “<Oh shit, that’s Hiro’s rifle!>” Durango cursed.
     They ran over to the crater. Scraps of Hiro’s burned tunic wafted 
in the breeze. Blood splattered the rocks in tiny red droplets.
     D-Day lowered his head in remorse. Durango turned away, unable 
to look at the crater. As the pilot did so, he caught a glint of 
silvered mail. His eyes traveled to the spot to find Hiro’s prone form 
lying among the boulders. Smoke streamed up from his body, licking 
from between the links of mail.
     “<Is he dead?>” D-Day asked when he saw what Durango was 
looking at.
     “<He ain’t moving,>” Durango replied.
     They went over to him. Dried blood streamed down both nostrils 
and caked over his lips and down his bruised throat. What skin was 
visible beneath the mail hauberk and tattered scraps of clothes was a 
wealth of cuts and bruises.
     Durango leaned close to Hiro’s lips. 
     He was rewarded with a ragged breath.
     “<Sonuvabitch!>” Durango cried. “<The little bastard’s still 
kickin’!>”
     Minhiriath moved in by Durango’s side. He placed his hands upon 
the fallen Hiro. He mumbled softly, as if he was talking to him.
     Hiro sat bolt upright.
     “I’m late for school!” He cried.
     He looked around with a puzzled expression on his face.
     “Where the hell am I?”
     Durango looked to D-Day.
     “<You got any idea what he’s saying?>”
     “<Nope.>”
     “Am I dead?” Hiro went on.
     Minhiriath calmed Hiro with a gentle press of warm hands upon his 
brow.
     “Rest easy Mister Ohata,” the Maia assured him. “Your mail shirt 
has taken the brunt of the blast. Palandir must have been unaware that 
you were so armored, else he would have used a stronger attack.”
     Hiro looked down at his chest. The mail gleamed brightly in the 
golden light, though smoke continued to wisp from it. He checked to 
make sure all his limbs were still attached. They were, but his left leg 
was broken.
     “I feel like the middle of a scrum with the Brisbane Broncos,” he 
sizzled with pain as he tried to stand without putting weight on his 
broken leg. Minhiriath continued to lay his hands upon Hiro, who 
could feel that the man was trying to heal him somehow.
     “<What the hell do you think you’re doing?>” Durango asked 
incredulously. “<Your friggin’ leg’s broken.>”
     “<So splint it already,>” Hiro replied with clenched teeth. “<I’m 
not out of this yet. Judging from the fact that we aren’t all dead yet, 
I’d say Palandir is still chasing after Ranma and Akane -which means 
they aren’t dead yet either.>”
     “<So?>”
     “<So I’m going after them.>” He drew one of his Sigs. “<I owe 
Palandir big time for this.>” He winced again as he felt Minhiriath set 
the fractured bone in his leg.
     Durango shook his head. “<We’ve got more problems than that. 
There’s about five hundred gun toting Baryshnikovs running around 
shooting at everything that moves and occasionally things that don’t.>”
     “<I don’t care,>” Hiro replied. He bit down on a scream as 
Minhiriath bound his leg with scraps of his tunic and the broken 
pieces of his spear. 
     “You have your splint,” Minhiriath told him. 
     “<I don’t believe this!>” Durango yelled at him. “<You’re actually 
helping this maniac?>”
     “<Got anything for the pain?>” Hiro asked them.
     D-Day shrugged and pulled a bottle of aspirin from his coat pocket. 
He threw the bottle to Hiro, who caught it up and swallowed six of 
them without hesitation.
     “<Beggars can’t be choosy I guess,>” he said with a clenched teeth 
smile. “<Let’s go.>”
     Durango threw up his hands and drew his .45. D-Day had a rather 
large S&W Model 629 revolver in (of course) .44 Magnum. A brace 
of pistols wasn’t much against machine guns and assault rifles, to say 
nothing of the firepower from a pissed off Maia, but Hiro was resolved 
to work with what he had.
     He led the way, limping, but determined. Durango and D-Day 
followed behind, steadying him occasionally. Minhiriath brought up 
the rear, looking out for the Russians or perhaps Palandir’s return.



                         *       *       *



     Ranma had Akane’s hand in his. Ukyo was to their left, and Ryoga 
to their right. Aerandir stood behind them. Anazali and Urthel prepared 
to face off against Palandir when he recovered. Nimatar and Aerandir’s 
warriors braced for another charge against the prism.
     Sarophan’s warriors braced as well. They knew that this time 
Aerandir’s forces wouldn’t hold back. The Wayfinders were here. 
They would press on until the end.
     “One final chance, Uncle!” Aerandir called to Sarophan. 
“Relinquish the prism to us before any more Maia blood is spilled!”
     Sarophan ignored him. He was channeling the Heart of the World 
through the prism. They were too late. 
     In that moment all of the Maia could sense what was happening. 
Even Ranma could feel that Sarophan was seizing the Heart of the 
World that very moment.
     “We’re outta time!” He yelled. “He’s doing it!” He surged forward, 
and Akane went with him. “ATTACK!!!”
     He ran straight at the Maia who guarded the prism. Akane was 
there by his side. He could feel the tension radiating from her, the 
apprehension. He knew it would pass once the blows started falling. 
He knew she could take care of herself. 
     They leaped as one with a great cry. The Maia tried to dodge 
clear, but that was what Ranma was expecting. As Akane sailed 
past and into another warrior, Ranma somersaulted, bringing his 
arms out and clotheslining the Maia with his forearm. As he popped 
to his feet he spun around in a fierce spin kick that caught a third in 
the chest as he tried to chop Akane in half with a flaming sword. He 
flew backwards and sank against the wall of force.
     Akane knew her attacker was there, but in some funny way she 
knew she didn’t have to worry about him. Instead she lashed out with 
a bone breaking chop that went through a spear raised in defense and 
down upon the Maia’s shoulder. He buckled, and she followed up 
with a kick that was faster than she had ever thrown in her life. The 
warrior lost all his breath as she connected in the solar plexus. 
     Ryoga was impossible to bring down. Blow upon blow fell upon 
him, but he shrugged them off. He grappled with one warrior after 
ripping the Maia’s spear right out of his hands and picked him up 
over his head. He threw him down with enough force to stun him. 
One of Aerandir’s warriors grabbed the Maia and pulled him clear 
of the fight to be bound.
     Ukyo lashed out with her battle spat. Energy blasts directed at 
her were whipped back in their faces. Tears stung her eyes as she 
knew these people had been her friends only hours ago. Though they 
were siding with the wrong man, they were still good people.
     She parried a sword blow and twisted around the Maia in time to 
step between his legs and trip him. Instead he rose into the air and 
struck her in the head with the palm of his hand. She was knocked 
senseless to the ground. Before the Maia could finish her, Ryoga was 
there standing over Ukyo. His hands were raised and cupped together. 
He needed fuel for this, and the thought of Ukyo dying was more than 
enough.
     “SHI SHI HOKODAN!!!”
     The Maia caught a face full of Ryoga’s ki blast, and sailed over 
the wall of force to land several hundred meters away.
     Ukyo scrambled to her feet and quickly kissed his cheek.
     “You’re a lifesaver, sugar!”
     Ryoga began to blush, but there wasn’t time for more. They were 
back in the thick of it a moment later. Ryoga snarled, Ukyo brandished 
her battle spat, and Sarophan’s warriors found out how powerful their 
cousins could be.
     Ranma and Akane were fighting back to back. Word that the 
Wayfinders had arrived had drawn Sarophan’s faction away from the 
fight with the Russians and back to the circle. There were too many of 
them for Aerandir and the others to stop with ki blasts.
     Ranma’s fists whipped out with the full fury of his Amigurikan 
technique. It was just enough speed to land a few blows, but he was 
certain that he was fighting the same guys he was knocking down just 
moments earlier.
     **They’re using the Heart of the World’s power to heal 
themselves...** He realized suddenly. He and the others didn’t know 
how to do that. It was just a matter of time before they were worn down.
     Akane was starting to get tired. He could feel it as she cried out 
again and again with each strike and parry. She tensed behind him, 
and he knew she was going to dodge.
     He leaped into the air as a ki-blast rippled beneath the two of 
them. Clasping Akane’s wrists, he threw himself over her in a 
somersault that reversed their positions. Ranma now faced off 
against the warrior who threw the blast. 
     He threw out his hands. They had practiced this move before, 
and Akane knew what to do even if she couldn’t see it. That part 
of Akane that was within him burned as she fed him her power.
     “MOKO TAKABISHA!!!”
     His blast fountained forth, bowling over a dozen of them. He 
watched as others scattered into the air to avoid the blast and readied 
counterstrikes. He was about to grab Akane and run when Ukyo 
appeared before him with her humungous spatula. The Maia held 
back, knowing that she could catch their blasts and throw them back 
at them.
     “Thanks again Ucchan,” Ranma grunted.
     “There’s too many of these guys,” Ukyo replied. “I don’t know 
how much longer I can keep this up!”
     “They keep restoring themselves and coming back!” Ranma shot 
back as elbow slammed one of them. “We’re fighting the same guys 
over and over!”
     Ryoga took a ki-blast that blew him to the ground nearby. His tunic 
was smoldering as he struggled back to his feet. His eyes burned with 
a fury. He was about to charge after the warrior, even though the Maia 
was floating thirty feet off the ground.
     “Ryoga, wait!” Ranma cried. They were cut off from Aerandir’s 
warriors, who were now outnumbered three to one and barely holding 
their own -but only because of Aerandir’s own strength and power.
     **There’s too many and we can’t stop them. We need some 
breathing room.**
     “Time for some crowd control,” he barked. “Akane, grab 
Ryoga! Ucchan, stay real close to me!”
     “What are you going to do?” Akane asked quickly. Her foot lashed 
out, keeping those closest to her at bay. 
     “Trust me,” Ranma replied. “Just stay as close as possible to me 
and hang on.”
     “You aren’t serious!” Ukyo cried, understanding his intent.
     “Oh yeah I am!”
     Akane pulled Ryoga close as Ukyo moved against Ranma. She 
wasn’t sure how close she had to be and wasn’t going to take any 
chances.
     Ranma grit his teeth, thinking about how he had done this twice 
before. Once in Korea, once in Paris. There was far more power 
available here, even if Sarophan was collapsing it down into the prism.
     He began turning a slow circle. Akane burned within him, an 
almost consuming brightness. She had learned quickly how to 
channel her ki into him and he smiled proudly as he turned his 
spiral faster. He drew upon the energies of the Heart of the World, 
feeling them rush into him even as Sarophan’s mind clawed for the 
scraps he was stealing from the Maia. Ryoga swallowed nervously 
behind him, now understanding Ranma’s intentions as well. 
     The Maiar could feel the ki buildup and hesitated for a moment. 
The threat of Ukyo was enough to keep them from bombarding the 
quartet. They had no choice but to charge.
     As they came close, they could feel Ranma drawing out their own 
ki and using it against them. Too late they saw the trap. Their last bit 
of energy was the priming charge for what followed. A hot wind 
spiraled up around the four. Ranma raised his fist high over his head.

     “HIRYU SHOTEN HAAAA!!!!”

     The cyclone exploded up and around them, reaching clear into the 
stratosphere. A sonic boom rolled out, flattening all who weren’t in 
range to be drawn up into the cyclone as the winds rushed at over 
a thousand miles an hour. Those who were caught were flung 
thousands of feet into the air, nearly completely drained of power. 
Only their superior constitutions kept them from being slain, but 
there was no chance that they would be returning to fight this day.
     In the middle of the smoking crater stood Ranma, Akane, Ryoga, 
and Ukyo. Except for Ranma, the others were ghost white in shock. 
Ranma brought his smoldering fist down to his side to survey what he 
had done. 
     There were no more of Sarophan’s warriors standing. Those 
that were still in the circle were now bound and unconscious with 
Nimatar’s will. Aerandir’s hair was blown back and his eyes were 
wide open. Anazali and her brother Urthel had similar expressions. 
     “The polite thing to do would be to warn us about that,” Aerandir 
said with a slight smile.
     “I shoulda done it sooner,” Ranma replied. He nearly sunk to his 
knees, but Ukyo caught him. “That took the wind right out of me.” 
     He turned around to see that the Maia behind the wall of force 
still stood, as did their wall. Sarophan was safe behind the wall with 
the prism. Ranma groaned.
     “We still gotta get through that wall,” he said grimly. “Any 
suggestions?”
     Ukyo stepped forward. “Leave it to me, honey.” 
     “Are you sure you can do it?” Akane asked her.
     “We’ll find out,” Ukyo replied. She brought out her spatula and 
grit her teeth. She passed it through the wall of force and screamed.
     “Ukyo!” Ranma and the others cried in unison.
     “I’ve got it!” Ukyo gasped. “It’s not quite what I was expecting, 
but...”
     She dug in with her feet and wrenched upwards with her spatula. 
It was the focus for her will, which was against the ki that flowed from 
the Maiar beyond and which shaped the air into the barrier. She lifted 
with all her might, thinking about her betrayal and desperate to atone 
for it. The wall of force was wrenched free of their control. She flung 
it aside, and it disintegrated back into the air from which it came. 
Within, the Maia clutched at their heads and collapsed. Ukyo 
followed them into unconsciousness a moment later. 
     The prism was wide open.
     Ranma wasted no time. He and Akane rushed the prism, intent on 
destroying it no matter what happened. Ryoga took Ukyo into his 
arms and carried her to safety.


     Palandir appeared, his clothes burned and torn. His face was 
bloody. There was madness dancing behind his eyes. Aerandir flew 
up at him with his sword alight in raging silver flames. The two 
brothers floated a few meters apart, and the other Maia stayed clear 
of them. 
     “We finish this, brother!” Palandir said to Aerandir.
     “Agreed. Though I will not slay you if you ask for quarter.”
     “There shall be no quarter!”
     Aerandir sighed, “so be it.”
     They began without further preamble, swords flashing and crashing 
with sprays of silvery sparks. There could only be one outcome to this 
battle, and Nimatar wept silently below them. 


     Sarophan was about to close the last of the Heart of the World 
into the prism when the wall of force fell. Once he had all of the 
energy under his dominion, they would not be able to stop him. To 
shatter the prism at that point would kill everyone in the Crown, to 
say nothing of what would happen to the rest of the world. He did 
not believe they were prepared to go that far.
     Ranma could feel that Sarophan was close, and in that instant the 
Maiar within the Heart of the World explained that he would never 
reach the prism in time. There was another way.
     **You picked a fine time to tell me what to do...** Ranma 
growled in his mind.
     He knew he didn’t have the strength for this, but there was no 
other choice. 
     He reached out and grabbed that last shred of the Heart of the 
World as if he was going to throw another ki blast. Only he didn’t 
use it and he didn’t let go. Power burned within him.
     Sarophan couldn’t believe the man was doing this.
     “You’re a fool!” He said to Ranma.
     “That’s what I keep hearin’ about you!” Ranma shot back. “After I 
rip this thing out of your hands I’m gonna get you back for what you 
did to Ukyo!”
     Sarophan said nothing, but exerted more of his power.
     Ranma could feel him tugging hard at that last scrap of the Heart 
of the World. He felt himself being ripped apart from within. He 
wouldn’t let go, but Sarophan was just too strong. He screamed in agony.
     “Ranma!” Akane cried worriedly. She took his hand and tried to 
give him some of her strength. She didn’t know what he was doing, 
but she knew enough to know that he wasn’t strong enough for it. As 
she took his hand she felt herself being ripped apart as well, but her 
stubbornness and her own force of will kept her hanging on. She was 
Ranma’s lifeline, the only thing holding him together. She wasn’t going 
to let go.
     The Maiar within the Heart of the World had foreseen this. They 
had made their choice, had never once regretted it, and as the two 
young martial artists held on against a foe they could not defeat, they 
were vindicated. They had groomed Ranma Saotome and Akane 
Tendo well for this moment, and now acted.
     Ranma became a conduit for them in the Material World.
     They flooded within him then, their wills joining with his. He 
wanted them out of him, but they were as irresistible as Sarophan.
     ^Do not fight with us,^ they told him. 
     **I don’t like being a pawn!** He shot back.
     ^If you wish to win this fight you must let us help you.^
     **I got this guy right where I want him,** he rebuked bitterly, 
knowing it was the farthest thing from the truth.

     A slowly moving whirlpool of ki energy formed around them as 
the three stood around the prism. The other Maia backed away, 
and save for Aerandir and Palandir’s duel, all of the fighting had 
stopped in the circle. Nimatar’s warriors held the circle, but the 
final battle was only now being joined. All they could do was watch 
and wait.
     Ukyo was conscious now, with Ryoga looking after her. She 
sat up in time to catch glimpses of Ranma and Akane squaring off 
with Sarophan through the whirlpool. Then Nabiki’s songbirds 
alighted upon her shoulder and began chirping desperately.
     “What is it?” She asked them, forgetting for a moment that they 
were just birds.
     Ryoga crossed his eyes in confusion. “You mean you can 
understand them?”
     Ukyo shrugged, “Not a peep, but something’s wrong from the 
sound of them.” She thought about it for a second or two as they 
continued chirping for attention. “Why aren’t they with Nabiki?”
     Ryoga snapped his fingers.
     “Unless something’s happened to her!”
     “Oh Gods!” Ukyo cried. “I think you’re right!” She got to her 
feet. Those Maia not watching the whirlpool were watching Aerandir 
and Palandir duel above them. She looked for someone she recognized. 
All of the Maia she knew were now bound. 
     Ryoga got to his feet as well. “If only Minhiriath were here. He’d 
know what they were saying.”


     Aerandir lashed out with his sword, and his brother barely turned 
it aside. Palandir was hurt, and that leveled the playing field 
considerably. The mariner doubted his ability to defeat him in 
swordplay otherwise, a fact evidenced by their recent skirmish in Paris.
     He renewed his attacks; Palandir was on the run. There was hope 
that he could defeat him without taking life or limb.
     “You are hurt, brother. You cannot defeat me. Surrender and I 
will spare your life.”
     Palandir snarled in reply. He threw himself with fresh fury at 
Aerandir, whipping his blade around and drawing blood with a 
shallow slash across the thigh. Aerandir stifled a cry and brought 
his flambergé up to parry another blow meant to decapitate him.
     “It is you who will surrender to me, brother. I can only promise 
you a swift death however!”
     “You have already lost this fight,” Aerandir intoned as they 
grappled close and locked their baroquely formed quillions together. 
“Even if I am slain, you are too late to stop Ranma and Akane. They 
are in the hands of our ancestors, and you cannot harm them without 
undoing all that you hope to achieve!”
     “Uncle will do what he set out to do,” Palandir rebuked. He broke 
free of their grapple by punching at Aerandir’s face with his sword 
hand. “Those two children are no match for him, even in the hands of 
our kin!”
     Aerandir didn’t reply. He knew there was no guarantee that 
Ranma and Akane could stop Sarophan. They were in fact very 
fragile china dolls set loose in the middle of a tornado. If they didn’t 
succeed they would be ripped apart in more senses than just a 
physical one.
     “I am right!” Palandir crowed. He lashed out again with his blade. 
“You know they cannot win!” Aerandir wasn’t fast enough to parry 
the blow in time.
     The stroke took Aerandir across the chest and more blood flowed. 
His vision dimmed for a second as the shock of his wound hit him. He 
felt his grip upon his sword slacken and a delirious pain flooded 
through him. At least a lung was ruptured, possibly even a pulmonary 
artery.
     Anazali screamed his name as the red spray scattered across the 
grassy clearing of the circle. Aerandir began to float slowly to the 
ground, no longer able to stay airborne. He grit his teeth against the 
pain. There was no energy for him to draw upon here, it was all in the 
prism or being fought over that very instant. This fight was ended.
     **Perhaps one of the others can stop my brother...**
     Palandir laughed and raised his sword for the killing blow.
     “It is certain now...” Palandir intoned. “You shall die, but fear 
not brother, I shall send your little Wayfinders to join you in the 
next world. Sing for them your songs...” He dropped the blade in its 
execution strike.
     “Very little is certain!” Aerandir shot back with a wet and raspy 
voice. Blood trickled down the corner of his mouth. He raised his head. 
“I admit that much.” His blade rang as it caromed off his brother’s. 
Silver fire flashed in his eyes. “What I am certain of is that you shall 
do no more harm to them!”
     He swung his sword high over his head. His last remaining strength 
flowed into his sword. Silver fire roared from the wavy steel of the 
flambergé. With both hands he struck out at Palandir.
     The Maia dropped his blade to parry. Aerandir’s sword cleaved 
through it in a bright explosion of light and spectral fire. Palandir 
didn’t have time to scream as the sword cleaved through him from crown 
to crotch. He wasn’t halved by the blow, but it was no less mortal for 
it.
     The two brothers fell to the grassy ground with wet thuds. 
Aerandir’s sword plunged point down into the grass, wisps of silver 
fire flickering out of existence in tiny sparkles of light. The shards 
of Palandir’s sword were consumed by silver fire and floated away as 
little motes of color.
     Anazali was the first to reach them. She could feel Palandir’s soul 
slipping away into the next world. She reached out with her mind, 
hoping that Aerandir’s soul had not already departed. Her unspoken 
question was answered with a curl of Aerandir’s fingers as he lay 
upon the blood slicked grass.
     She cried out in surprise and then fell over him and wept. Nimatar 
and Urthel rushed over to them. Aerandir looked up at them and felt 
Anazali’s hand warm against the icy flesh of his own. 
     “I am not yet done for this world,” he whispered to her. “Though 
my span has little remaining to it. I have no strength left within 
myself to repair the damage done.”
     “Then take of me, Sil Amarn,” she whispered in reply. “I give it 
freely, for your loss this day is too dear a price even though we may 
yet triumph.”
     “You have little remaining to yourself,” he told her. “None of 
you do.”
     “There is enough for us both.” She kissed his brow, and he felt 
part of her rush into him. Flesh and bone began the torturous process 
of knitting together. “You have lost much of your noble blood Sil 
Amarn, yet now I think you shall spill no more this day upon the grass.”



                         *       *       *



     Tarchenko and Fyodor saw the cyclone shoot high into the air. 
The sonic boom concussion knocked them flat a moment later. As 
they and the other soldiers struggled to their feet, Tarchenko realized 
that he could not oppose such a power as that directly.
     “Hostages!” He cried.
     “What do you mean Ivan Mikhailiyvich?” Fyodor asked.
     “We barter their women and children for the prism,” he replied.
     Fyodor nodded his head. Anything was better than going up against 
whatever had just caused that cyclone.
     “The encampment!” Fyodor yelled to his men. “Seize as many 
hostages as you can!”
     They moved out for the short run away from the circle and towards 
Nimatar’s camp. They ran into little resistance, as every Maia at this 
point was dead, badly wounded, engaged elsewhere, or too exhausted 
to fight with all of the energies of the Heart of the World in contest. 
Tarchenko’s men swept into the camp and began rounding them up. 
     They were a sorry lot; mostly women and children and wounded. 
The sorrier the better Tarchenko supposed. They made for better 
hostages that way. His men gathered up those that could walk, and 
prepared to march them towards the circle.
     Fyodor spied Nabiki.
     She had her head wrapped in a bandage. Her songbirds cooed 
for her as she looked after the other wounded. The Professor and 
Ferguson glared at the Ukrainian as he stepped up to them.
     “<Comrade Tarchenko, look what I have found!>” He said 
happily. In spite of everything, this was turning out to be his lucky 
day.
     Tarchenko saw Nabiki and matched his grin.
     “<Don’t kill this one right away,>” he admonished Fyodor. 
“<She shall be our example to these people that we are quite 
serious in our demands.>”
     The troops began to move them out and towards the circle. 
Nabiki was in the lead, with Fyodor’s rifle prodding her on. She 
could feel the cold steel pressed between her shoulder blades. 
Fyodor and Tarchenko exchanged jokes as they walked.
     Nabiki didn’t speak Russian. Despite this she knew that the two 
who grinned evilly had nothing but bad things planned for her. Fatal 
plans. 
     **Now would be a good time for Tate-chan or one of the 
others to show up.**



                        *       *       *



     Tatewaki Kuno stumbled across Hiro and the others and was nearly 
shot for his troubles. D-Day lowered his revolver as Hiro, Durango, 
and Minhiriath motioned for him to keep low. The occasional stray 
bullet zipped by them to punctuate their argument.
     “How do you fare, Ohata?” Kuno asked him.
     “Been better,” Hiro replied with a grimace. “What’s going on in 
the circle?”
     “In truth I do not know, for I have wandered in pursuit of the 
foe wherever he may cower,” Kuno replied grimly. “I know only that 
these accursed Russians have profaned this place with their foul 
presence, and that I have seen the fair Nabiki Tendo to safety from 
their clutches.”
     Hiro looked over Kuno’s shoulder as the swordsman spoke.
     “Oh boy...”
     He couldn’t believe this. Nabiki Tendo was being marched at 
gun-point at the head of a column of Maiar prisoners. The huge dark 
haired Ukrainian that had nearly killed Ranma and Akane on the Eiffel 
Tower was the one holding the rifle. There was a glint in the 
Ukrainian’s eyes that told him Nabiki was going to die no matter what 
happened.
     Kuno turned around in time to see them march through the trees 
only forty meters distant.
     It took Hiro, Durango, D-Day, and Minhiriath to hold him down. 
As Durango clamped his hand over Kuno’s mouth, Hiro pinned one 
arm and D-Day the other. Minhiriath tried his best to mask their 
presence.
     “Release me at once!” Kuno bellowed. No one could understand 
him with Durango’s hand over his mouth, but the intent was clear. They 
held him down.
     “Look, I know how you feel about her,” Hiro soothed. “But you 
go charging over there and they’re going to kill her. There’s no way 
you can get to them in the time it’ll take to squeeze the trigger.”
     Kuno raged once more. It was getting harder for the three men to 
hold him.
     “Ow! Watch the leg!” Hiro hissed as they struggled with the 
swordsman. “Kuno, you’ve got to calm down.” Hiro’s voice was 
pleading now. “If you care at all about Nabiki, you’ll shut up and 
stay still. They’ll kill her without even blinking if you charge; we 
gotta be sneaky about this.”
     Kuno’s eyes gleamed coldly, but he stopped trying to struggle 
with them. Durango wasn’t sure what Hiro had said to Kuno, but 
it appeared to calm him down. Warily, he took his hand away from 
the swordsman’s mouth. 
     “Tatewaki Kuno does not ‘sneak’,” he replied evenly.
     “Fine. I’ll do the sneaking,” Hiro agreed quietly. “Just give me a 
chance to get Nabiki out from under that rifle and you can turn them 
into hash any way you like.”
     Durango thumped Hiro on the head. “<Excuse me, but just what 
are you planning here?>”
     “<I’m gonna work my way in front of them and get Nabiki out 
of harm’s way. Then Kuno and the rest of you will waste these guys.>”
     Durango looked down at Hiro’s leg. “<First of all, how do you 
expect to get around them quietly with your leg broken? Second of 
all, just how many of those guys are you planning on us taking out? 
There’s three of us and only two pistols between us. There’s gotta 
be a hundred of them, easy.>”
     Hiro looked down at his leg. “<Don’t worry about me. As for 
those guys, it looks like they’re using Nabiki, the Professor, and the 
others as hostages. Probably in exchange for the Heart of the World, 
‘cause they’re headed towards the circle and not out of the Crown. 
That means we’ll have Aerandir and his friends to help us when the 
time comes.>”
     “<Assuming they’re still alive,>” D-Day countered. “<It’s been 
awful quiet since that cyclone hit, and no one’s given the ‘all clear’ 
yet. That’s buggin’ me right now.>”
     Minhiriath shook his head. “The Heart of the World has not been 
completely contained yet. They’re still fighting over it.”
     “We waste time,” Kuno spat. His patience was almost gone. 
Nabiki was in danger, and he was doing nothing about it. It was 
unbearable.
     “Right,” Hiro agreed. “Minhiriath, can you keep me covered?”
     The Maia nodded. “One is easier than several. There shouldn’t 
be any difficulties, but are you really up to doing this? Your leg is 
set, the bone has even started to knit back together a bit, but 
exerting yourself could easily break it again.”
     “I’ll take that chance,” Hiro replied grimly. He was still in pain, 
but hopped along through the trees and brush. Minhiriath closed his 
eyes in concentration, and Hiro faded from sight. Even the sound of 
his passing faded away. Durango and D-Day blinked a few times, 
then continued on with a barely contained Tatewaki Kuno in tow.

     Nabiki could feel Fyodor poke her in the back with the rifle 
every now and again whether she needed to pick up the pace or 
not. It was infuriating, but given the circumstances there wasn’t 
much she could do about it. She just hoped Innael and her sisters 
got the word to Aerandir. 
     When they reached the circle the battle was over save for the 
struggle over the Heart of the World in the center of the circle. The 
whirlpool of ki energy grew in size and in intensity, and the Maia 
had backed away from it as it expanded. Ranma and Akane could 
no longer be seen, nor could Sarophan.
     The Maia were waiting for them as they entered the clearing. 
Telepathic messages had been passing back and forth long before 
Nabiki’s songbirds reached the circle. Ryoga and Ukyo stood by 
Urthel’s side. Ukyo felt a shudder pass through her as she looked 
upon Fyodor and Tarchenko. Her memories of her time in the 
Ukraine were sketchy, but she was sure the two men had been 
responsible for doing terrible things to her.
     “Release your hostages at once!” Urthel called to Tarchenko.
     “<I shall when you surrender the Heart of the World to me!>” 
Tarchenko replied in a loud voice.
     “It is not mine to give,” Urthel told him. He gestured to the 
whirlpool. “Perhaps you would like to join in the contest?”
     Tarchenko consulted Toschev and Pulatski. The psychic and the 
scientist were fairly certain that they didn’t stand a chance trying to 
pass through the whirlpool of ki energy that swirled with quickening 
pace around the prism. They said as much to Tarchenko. He nodded 
grimly and turned back to Urthel.
     “<I will shoot hostages until you give me what I demand!>” He 
yelled. “<To prove that I am a man of my word, I shall shoot this 
hostage right now!>” He pointed to Nabiki, who felt a river of cold 
sweat run down her temples as Fyodor pressed the muzzle into her 
spine.
     Ukyo cried out, begging him not to do it. Ryoga readied a ki blast, 
likely the last one he had the endurance to throw after having thrown 
so many this day.
     Hiro knew he didn’t have time to get any closer to them. He had 
to act. Though he was invisible to the eyes of others, he could see 
himself, and more importantly, could see the sights of his Sig P-220 
pistol as he raised it in a kneeling stance. 
     There was a Russian at Fyodor’s side, preventing an easy head 
shot that would kill the Ukrainian instantly. He had to kill him 
instantly, or else Fyodor would tense on the trigger and kill Nabiki 
as he died. 
     A head shot was impossible, so he went for his final option. 
Fyodor’s finger was still on the trigger guard. There was time.
     He held his breath and fired.
     His bullet struck Fyodor in the hand, which spasmed and let go 
of the rifle. Nabiki shrieked, thinking that she had been the one shot. 
As Fyodor roared in pain she threw herself to the ground.
     Kuno leaped out of the trees, katana engulfed in blue flames. 
D-Day and Durango were close behind. Minhiriath willed the weak 
minded among the Russians to drop their rifles. D-Day fired his .44 
right at Fyodor’s back, striking him square on. He stared slack-jawed 
as the fabric of the fatigues came away to reveal the body armor 
underneath. The Ukrainian ignored D-Day and spun on Hiro, who 
had materialized only ten meters away and was now drawing his 
second Sig. 
     “<I will kill you!>” Fyodor bellowed in rage, striding towards him.
     Tarchenko saw that they had been trapped. More Maia came up 
from behind their column. Within the ranks of the hostages, Maia 
summoned up the last of their reserves to fight back. 
     “<Kill all of the hostages!>” He screamed. 
     Hiro stood up and leveled both Sigs at Fyodor. The Ukrainian 
laughed mockingly as he drew a long knife and prepared to gut him. 
His right hand twitched and bled as he cradled it close to him.
     “I remember you,” Fyodor said in Japanese. “You were the one 
who shot me at the Eiffel Tower. It was a useless gesture then, as 
now.”
     “Can’t stop a guy from tryin’,” Hiro replied.
     He clenched his teeth in a feral grin and unloaded both Sigs into 
him.
     No one was more surprised than Fyodor when those thirteen rounds 
passed straight through his chest to erupt out his backside. Blood 
fountained forth from his wounds. His eyes glazed over and he gave 
Hiro a look of confusion.
     “Steel jacketed bullets, asshole. Hot loads. Armor piercers.” 
Hiro answered the look. “Unlike some people, I learn from my 
mistakes.”
     Fyodor pitched over face first and died.

     Tarchenko watched as Tatewaki Kuno hacked Doctor Pulatski 
apart with a triple strike. Toschev fell next, his head neatly removed 
from his shoulders. The swordsman’s eyes blazed in rage as he bore 
down on him.
     “Cower behind the lives of others no more, craven!” Kuno 
bellowed at him. “This day you face the wrath of the Blue Thunder. 
The heavens shall be rent for what you have done to fair Ukyo, 
beauteous Akane, and beloved Nabiki!”
     He leaped into the air. Tarchenko raised his Tokarev and fired 
wildly. A bolt of lighting ripped across the sky above them, bathing 
the Crown of Eternity in blue light. The thunderclap rolled out to 
engulf them. 
     Tarchenko was consumed by the fiery steel of Tatewaki Kuno. 
     Scraps of blue light flickered and died away. All of Kuno’s rage 
leaped out as the blade slashed and sliced the Russian to pieces. The 
spectral flames of his hate-charged ki incinerated the scraps of flesh, 
reducing them to sparkles of light and ash.
     There was nothing left of Ivan Tarchenko.
     The fight ended quickly after that. The surviving Russians dropped 
their rifles and surrendered. Maiar rounded them up and took their 
own back to the camp. Minhiriath, Nimatar and Urthel joined Hiro, 
Kuno, Nabiki, Ukyo, Ryoga, and the Professor and his surviving 
researchers to watch the whirlpool. Anazali and Aerandir were taken 
away on litters. Both were too weak to move on their own.
     “What’s going on in there?” Nabiki asked. Kuno steadied her with 
an arm around her waist. Ukyo had an arm around her as well. Her 
songbirds perched on Kuno and Ukyo’s shoulders and chirped 
happily for her.
     “It’s the last battle,” Nimatar intoned. “There is only one battle 
left to be fought: a battle we cannot join, and the only one that 
matters.”



                        *       *       *



     Within the circle Ranma and Akane were losing the battle. Sarophan 
was too strong, even with the Maiar within the Heart of the World 
flowing through Ranma. He could feel that last scrap being torn from 
his grasp.
     Akane was faring worse. She simply wasn’t capable of handling 
the kind of raw power that they struggled over, a power that flowed 
through them, desperately seeking a purpose. Ranma could feel her 
soul stretching past the breaking point, for that was how she was 
hanging on to him. He was killing her.
     “Let go of me Akane!” He shouted to her over the roar of the ki 
whirlpool. 
     “I won’t!” Akane cried. “I won’t lose you!”
     “You can’t hang on any longer!”
     “I will!” 
     “Both of you let go!” Sarophan yelled at them. “This is killing 
you both!”
     “Not on your life!” Ranma bellowed. “I ain’t never lost a fight, 
and this ain’t the day it’ll happen!”
     “You will both die then!” Sarophan said without a trace of malice. 
“I implore you to spare your life and the life of your fiancée.”
     Ranma cursed. All three of them were too stubborn to give up.
     “Akane, you have to let go of me!” Ranma yelled at her. His voice 
became distorted as waves of gravity and electromagnetic force made 
space-time tremble around them. The Heart of the World was trying 
to recede, but the struggle held it fast.
     “You never let go of me!” She protested, tears coming to her eyes.
     “I’ll be fine! Just let go of me! I need you to do this!”
     “I won’t lose you, Ranma!” Her voice cracked as she screamed 
in pain. 
     “Akane!”
     “Save your fiancée!” Sarophan yelled at him. “She will die if you 
persist in this!”
     ^Do not surrender,^ the Maiar told him.
     “Shut up!” Ranma screamed back at them. “This is all your fault!” 
He looked to Akane, his eyes misting over as he saw how much 
anguish she was in. He could feel her slipping away into nothingness 
from within.
     “Akane! Let go of me and smash the prism!” He yelled over the wind.
     “You won’t be able to hang on without me!”
     “Do it!”
     “Don’t do it!” Sarophan interjected. “If you destroy the prism you 
destroy us all! Everyone on this frozen island will die!”
     “He’s lying!” Ranma retorted. “Akane please! Trust me on this! 
You think I want to die? I want to live, and I want to live a long time, 
and I want to live that life with you! Now smash that goddamn prism!”
     He felt her let go of him. He felt like a rubber band that had been 
stretched to the breaking point and then released. For just a second 
he felt his soul lifting free of his body, and he grounded himself with 
thoughts of Akane and how much she meant to him. Sarophan 
clawed the last scraps of the Heart of the World from him. He 
couldn’t hold onto them. The whirlpool began to collapse upon them.
     “Akane!” He cried. His voice was distant and warped, as if it 
were traveling through water. “Break it now!”
     Akane stared at the gleaming white stone of the prism. It was 
the most solid looking thing she had ever seen in her life. She 
touched it, feeling how cold and hard it was.
     “How?” She cried to him. “How do I break something like this?”
     The pain twisted his face as he stared at her in disbelief. He only 
had one chance at this. He took a deep breath to scream at her.
     “Are you trying to tell me that some sexless uncute tomboy like 
you can’t even break that thing! Just how pathetic are you?! You’re 
supposed to be the heir to the Tendo School of Anything Goes 
Martial Arts!? HA!!” He raged at her, the venom in his voice carrying 
through the distortion.  “It’s just a giant goddamn brick! You trying 
to tell me you can’t break one lousy brick?!”
     His words struck just the right chord with her so close on the 
heels of his encounter with Ukyo. The very thought of his arms around 
Ukyo made her blood boil. His words continued to echo through her as 
Ranma screamed at her incoherently.
     **Sexless uncute tomboy?! Pathetic?! Mocking my martial arts?! 
Saying I can’t even break a brick?! I love the jerk and this is how he 
treats me?!**
     Akane exploded.

     “RANMA YOU JERK!!!”

     She lashed out with her fist and struck the prism dead on. The 
shockwave flowed through the stone of the prism. The fragile 
crystalline structure became flawed. What followed was academic.
     The prism exploded straight up into the air. The blast threw Akane 
to the ground as the Heart of the World was released from it’s prison. 
Ranma and Sarophan began to burn with a furious golden light. Ranma 
screamed in agony.
     Sarophan hadn’t thought it was possible for Akane to harm the 
prism. When he felt it weaken and start to buckle from within he had 
just enough warning to marshal the last of his strength. He wasn’t 
sure if it would be enough.
     The Heart of the World was free, exploding out of it’s cage with 
the fury of a thermonuclear bomb. It would have consumed the entire 
island in the blast had Sarophan not caught hold of it with his will. 
Ranma did as well, though he was merely the conduit for the souls 
of the Maiar. 
     Sarophan knew then that Ranma shared his burden, had helped 
cushion against the blast. Even if the boy hadn’t been consciously 
doing it, his body and his mind had still been the focal point for the 
feat. Now they were locked in a different kind of tug of war. This 
time they worked together to hold the Heart of the World in, to keep 
it from laying waste to the earth.
     Ranma felt the universe swell into being around him. He was privy 
to secrets and places that no mortal man would ever know. Things far 
far beyond his possible mortal comprehension. He felt the weblike tug 
of gravity as it bound suns into galaxies, galaxies into clusters, 
clusters into the very universe itself. He plunged into the fiery 
hearts of suns and burst forth through great clouds of dust and gas 
at the fringes of a dead neutron star. He could feel every particle 
in his body begin to sing in harmony with that fading echo of creation 
itself; a voice so low that it was merely radio waves hissing across 
the tractless voids for all time.
     The souls of the Maiar tried to shield him from this. He wasn’t 
seeing or experiencing but the smallest fraction of what was shown 
him in that instant when the Heart of the World exploded into 
freedom. His frail mortal body wasn’t capable of it.
     Sarophan saw this as well. Ranma was being consumed in the 
very fires of creation. The Maiar, lacking physical bodies of their 
own, could do little to ground these energies out of him. Akane lay 
close by him on the grassy circle. He could see the red thread that 
burned between their souls. Very few times in his twelve thousand 
years had he ever seen such a thread burn so brightly between two 
people. He understood now why Ianthe had failed.
     He looked across the circle and saw them staring, faces frozen 
in that instant of time. Nimatar, his oldest friend. The fallen form of 
his nephew Palandir, whose soul he had felt leave this world only 
minutes earlier. Aerandir, who hung on death’s door but would not 
pass. From his elevated perspective he looked into his heart and 
knew that his nephew had born him no malice. Nabiki stood there 
with his gift of the songbirds. By her side were the Blue Thunder, 
and Ianthe. He could feel her contempt for him and it wounded him 
worst of all. They had destroyed him by opposing his vision. They 
had destroyed him.
     Even so he could not destroy them for what they had done. He 
looked back to Ranma, who was about to fly apart into the plasma 
tornado that was the released Heart of the World. The thread burned 
even as the young martial artist began to disintegrate.
     Sarophan reached out and took the last scrap of the Heart of the 
World from Ranma Saotome. It was so simple now. As he did so he 
gathered up the Heart of the World one final time. He had no prism to 
contain it, but he did have himself.


     The whirlpool blowtorched up into a fiery tornado of plasma that 
reached into space itself. Tendrils of starstuff lashed out at them as 
they watched the Heart of the World explode into freedom. Nabiki and 
Ukyo cried out. Hiro stood awestruck. Kuno and Ryoga could only 
think of Ranma and Akane, who were right in the center of the tornado. 
The Maiar understood what was happening, and knew that they would 
live or die by the efforts of Sarophan.


     Sarophan took great pride in claiming to be the most powerful of 
all the beings on the earth. Now he proved to himself and the world 
that it was true. He forced his will upon the Heart of the World, 
collapsing it, containing it, forcing it back into the fiery depths of 
the earth.
     There was however a price to be paid for salvation.
     He would be trapped within the Heart of the World. It was the 
only way to ensure that the nexus of gravity, strong and weak nuclear 
forces, electromagnetism and the very stuff that was life itself 
returned to its place within the planet. He had to restore the 
equilibrium himself; to let the Heart of the World seek its own path 
would spread ruin upon the human race as it had so many thousands of 
years ago.
     As his final act of clemency he released the souls trapped within 
the Heart of the World before he himself joined them. They leaped 
free and he heard their laughter as they passed on into the next 
realm. For a brief instant his sisters and other family were there 
with him, and then they were gone.
     His mind reached out to those that had opposed him. He bore 
them no malice now, for in surrendering his physical body and 
opening himself to the very forces of life and creation he saw the 
universe for what it truly was: a beautiful perfect miracle that would 
be perpetuated for all time and which he now considered himself a 
fool for even daring to disturb.
     He had done this for them. For Ranma and Akane, that their 
thread might burn brighter and longer than any before them. For his 
nephew Sil Amarn, that one day his dream of sailing the seas 
between the stars would be realized. For Nabiki and her songbirds 
that they bring joy to people’s lives. For Ianthe, that she one day 
might find happiness. For the Blue Thunder and his single minded 
devotion to what he held dear. For Ryoga and his great strength 
and nobility. For Hiro and Professor McFogg and all of his Maiar 
brothers and sisters. And lastly for all of his youthful cousins in the 
world, even if they had no idea what he had given them. He hoped 
that Nimatar and Minhiriath were correct in saying that they were 
finally learning responsibility for the world they lived in.

     The last of the lights sparkled out above the shattered remains 
of the prism.



                         Chapter Six



     The last of the slain were burned upon the pyres the Maiar had 
set. The mourning songs echoed across the chilling air of the Crown 
of Eternity. Soon the Crown would be filled with ice and snow as 
the last traces of the Heart of the World faded away.
     There was much sorrow at the death and suffering, but it was 
tempered with the joy of knowing that they had prevailed. Their 
cousins had been given another chance to prove themselves, and 
if the actions of Ranma, Akane, Ryoga, Kuno, Hiro, Nabiki and 
Ukyo were any indication of what the human race was capable of, 
the Maiar felt there was certainly hope. Hope soon gave way to 
song, and the Crown was filled instead with their voices raised in 
celebration for what they had won for themselves and their cousins.
     Professor McFogg made his good-byes to them. Akane tried 
not to cry as she hugged him, and even Ranma got a little choked 
up when the burly scientist put his arms around him. The Professor 
was mourning for Casimir and Katy Price and the others in his own 
way, smoking his pipe and thinking of the past. They could see it in 
his eyes how much he regretted coming to this place.
     Ferguson was still in a kind of shock from Katy’s death. No one 
could comfort or console him. At last he retreated into his work, 
helping Clay gather up the surviving equipment and instrumentation. 
He vowed that he would complete the project, if for no other reason 
than to try and give meaning to the deaths of Katy and Doctor Casimir.
     They loaded up into the Catalina. Ranma and the others would be 
returning to Japan on Aerandir’s clippership. Durango fired up the 
engines and waved to them from the cockpit. Bettie’s Dare lurched 
slowly into the air and headed north bound for Cape Town and a 
refueling before pushing on to England. Akane watched them go 
and waved good-bye. Ranma had the funny feeling that they hadn’t 
quite seen the last of Heironymous Durango and Daniel Day. 
     Other Maia were already leaving as they loaded into the skyskiff. 
Nimatar gave them several large packages as gifts of appreciation, 
and bade them not to open them until they were at sea. Aerandir 
was still weak from his wounds, but insisted on taking the helm of 
the skyskiff from Minhiriath. Anazali accompanied them as well, to 
look after Aerandir despite his protests. 
     They passed the snow covered hulks of Russian helicopters as 
the skyskiff darted over the ice shelf towards the sea. Far out of sight 
lay the Russian fleet, still unaware of the fate of the troops they had 
sent out. The Maiar would be sending them a message soon telling 
them where they could find their dead, and those who remained as 
prisoners.
     Star of the West stood at anchor waiting for them. The ghost 
crew were just barely visible phantoms now, though they were still 
a lively bunch of salts. At a command from Aerandir the ship weighed 
anchor and set course for Japan.
     Ranma watched the ice shelf recede from sight from the afterdeck. 
Akane stood by his side. She had their cloak wrapped around him. 
     “You okay?” She asked him.
     “Yeah,” he replied. “Maybe just a little shaken up though.”
     “I don’t remember anything that happened after I punched the 
prism. Do you?”
     Ranma shrugged. “Not really. Just that it hurt big time. I think 
Sarophan actually saved me at the end though. Weird, huh?”
     Akane gave him a squeeze. “I’m sorry.”
     He arched an eyebrow at her. “For what?”
     “For not listening to you sooner. I had to argue with you when I 
should have trusted you.”
     He shrugged again. “It’s no big deal. I know why you did what 
you did. And as long as we’re exchanging apologies, I’m sorry for 
yelling at you. It was the only thing I could think of to get you mad 
enough to break the prism.”
     She huffed at him.
     “’Sexless uncute tomboy?’” She gave him a dark look. “We’ll see 
who’s sleeping up on deck tonight for that one...”
     “I said I was sorry!” He protested. He leaned over and nibbled at 
her ear. “You are very sexy, and I think you’re very cute...”
     She narrowed her eyes at him. “Forgetting something?’ She 
asked with mock sweetness.
     “What, the tomboy part?” He asked. “You’re still a tomboy.”
     Her fists clenched and she began to flush red.
     “Raaaannmmmaaaaa....”
     “Hey, I _like_ tomboys!”



                        *       *      *



     As promised, the dolphins were waiting for them in warmer waters. 
In this case it happened to be at the equator. All of Aerandir’s guests 
were Pollywogs, and as such he and the ghost crew indoctrinated them 
into the solemn mysteries of the Ancient Order of the Deep. The 
appearance of King Neptune and his court came as quite a surprise.
     After they were initiated and found worthy by his royal majesty 
King Neptune to be pronounced Crusty Shellbacks, they were 
allowed to wash off the various galley scraps and grime they had 
crawled through and been pelted with in the sea. Ranma was of 
course a girl by this point, which drove the ghost sailors wild to 
see her transformation.
     Ranma-chan floated in the warm deep blue waters of the Pacific 
and watched as Ukyo and Nabiki dove over her head to splash 
mightily behind her. The dolphins coached Akane as they supported 
her with their bodies, but it was clear that she would need a lot of 
practice before they trusted her on her own. Akane for her part didn’t 
mind, the dolphins made for good company with Aerandir translating. 
They also seemed to adore her, even if she couldn’t swim.
     Tatewaki Kuno and Hiro watched the girls from the skyladders 
above the gunwales. The water was calm, and Hiro found that his 
seasickness hadn’t returned with this trip. Nabiki and Ukyo waved 
and tried to splash water up at them to get the two guys to join them. 
After washing off their bodies in the sea they had both retreated to 
the deck. 
     Ryoga joined them a moment later, wearing a pair of swim trunks. 
     Ranma-chan started to give him a queer look as he cast a hopeful 
glance to the sea.
     **The water ain’t that warm,** Ranma-chan thought. **He can’t 
be serious about this!**
     Ryoga pinched his nose and dove into the water before Ranma-chan 
could yell for him to stop. Everyone looked at the roiling bubbles 
where Ryoga went down. Except for Kuno and Akane, everyone tensed in 
expectation of a little black pig to surface.
     Ryoga Hibiki surfaced instead, and there were tears in his eyes 
disguised as the drops of seawater from his bangs. Ranma-chan was 
the most shocked of all, though she did her best to conceal it. Hiro 
fell from the skyladder and into the sea in any event. Ryoga swam 
lazily over to Nabiki and Ukyo, who beamed for him.
     “Hey Ryoga, glad you decided to join us,” Ranma-chan said 
softly to him.
     “I’ve waited a long time for this,” Ryoga replied.
     Ranma-chan sighed. **Where had Ryoga found the time to get 
his curse lifted? If only I hadn’t been caught up in that spell with 
Ucchan, I could be a guy right now...**
     Ryoga saw the look in Ranma-chan’s eyes and patted her shoulder.
     “I’m sorry, Ranma.”
     Ranma-chan shrugged. “Not your fault Ryoga. Heck, I’m used 
to this by now. Plus I’ve been giving this some thought.”
     Hiro paddled lazily over to them.
     “Oh?” He asked.
     “Yeah,” Ranma-chan replied. She looked at Ryoga. “You know 
that straight-arm I hit you with back in the ruins?”
     Ryoga nodded sourly at the thought.
     “I’ve been wondering about where you learned to do that move...”
     “I’ve been practicing for a couple weeks now. It’s like I can 
sense places of power and I can draw upon that power for my moves,” 
Ranma-chan began. “I talked to Aerandir and Minhiriath about it, 
and they say I’ve probably always been able to do it, but that I didn’t 
know I was doing it. Every time I’m in a fight and it looks like I’ve 
got nothing left to give -but I always manage to scrape up that extra 
juice from somewhere? It’s because I was getting the power from 
my surroundings.”
     “Kinda like the hiryu shoten ha?” Ryoga said, scratching his head.
     “Sort of, only I can just grab it out of the air and stuff around 
me. It doesn’t have to be people trying to get me. Anyways, I’m starting 
to get a little idea about how all this stuff works. Maybe some day I 
won’t need something like the Heart of the World to remove my 
curse. Maybe some day I’ll master this stuff and just take it out 
myself.”
     She shrugged again. “I mean Aerandir and Minhiriath both say 
my curse is just a pattern of energy bound within me. Once I find 
that pattern I can figure out a way to change it so it doesn’t work, 
or just get rid of it altogether. I’m not talking weeks or months here 
though, they say it might take years.”
     “That’s great, Saotome!” Hiro said happily. “I have no doubts 
about you.”
     Even Ryoga nodded in agreement.
     Ranma-chan grinned her girlish best for them. “So what are your 
plans for when we get home?”
     Ryoga blushed.
     “I bet he’s gonna go find the lovely Akari and raise a great big 
family with her!” Hiro cackled.
     “Shut up, you!” Ryoga bellowed, though he was blushing furiously 
now.
     “Is she gonna be okay with your cure?” Ranma-chan asked quietly.
     “She’ll understand,” Ryoga replied, still blushing at the thought 
of being within ten meters of Akari.
     “What are you gentlemen whispering about?” Nabiki asked them 
slyly.
     “Guy stuff; none of your business!” Hiro replied with a grin.
     Nabiki pointed to Ranma-chan. “It seems you need to see about 
eyeglasses, Hiro-dear. Ranma doesn’t appear to be a guy at the 
moment.”
     Ranma-chan stuck her tongue out at Nabiki. She and Ukyo 
answered in kind.
     “Save the tongue for your fiancée, dear,” Nabiki riposted.
     Ranma-chan decided that ignoring Nabiki was the best policy. 
She turned back around and looked at Hiro.
     “So how about you, Hiro? What are your plans?”
     Hiro sighed. “Technically I still work for the Professor. I’m just 
seeing you guys back to Japan. I’ll fly back to London from there. 
Don’t worry though, I’m sure I can find an excuse to drop by and 
bother you every now and again. We still have to get your things 
from the Professor’s place back to you.”
     “It’s no bother at all,” Akane told him. The dolphins brought her 
over to them with chitters and clicks and the occasional playful 
splash. “You are always welcome with us Hiro.”
     Hiro grinned. “Thanks Akane-chan! I’ll remember that!”
     Ranma-chan rolled her eyes.
     Nabiki called to Kuno.
     “Hey Kuno-baby, why don’t you come on in and play with the 
rest of the children?”
     Kuno gave her a weary look. She blew him a kiss and he started 
to flush a bit. As he was distracted, one of the more rowdy ghost 
sailors bumped the swordsman off the skyladder and into the water. 
His laugh filled apology was chorused by the others who were happy 
to see the ‘mate’ sent into the drink.




                       *       *       *



     Star of the West slipped into Tokyo harbor several days later. 
Ranma wasn’t sure how, but figured Hiro was responsible for the two 
taxis that waited for them at the pier. Hiro of course denied 
everything. Aerandir, Anazali, and Minhiriath stood at the brow to 
see them off. Aerandir kissed each of them upon the brow, although 
Ukyo and Nabiki didn’t hesitate to throw their arms around him in hugs. 
     “You are all welcome aboard my ships; wherever I may be sailing,” 
he told them. “I wish you fair winds and following seas.”
     Anazali had a few small gifts for them, each wrapped in shiny 
pearlescent paper and told them that couldn’t open them until the 
next full moon. She kissed them all as well and whispered to Ranma 
that she wanted an invitation to the wedding. To Akane she 
whispered something else, which made the young woman cup her 
hand to her mouth to suppress her smile and which made Ranma 
blush for no reason he could think of.
     Minhiriath waited until the others went ashore before wishing 
Ryoga the best of luck.
     “She’ll be waiting for you lad,” he told Ryoga. “Just you wait...” 
He patted Ryoga’s shoulder. “I’m still not sure why I had to take 
you with me, but that may be a question better answered by yourself.”
     “Thank you Minhiriath,” Ryoga said quietly. “I don’t think I’ll 
ever be able to repay you for what you’ve done for me.”
     “Find that girl, Ryoga. Find her and never let her out of your 
sight. Do that and I’ll be very happy just thinking of you two 
together. That will be repayment in full.”
     Ryoga bowed for him, not noticing that the Maia had slipped 
something into his pocket as he turned for the brow.
     As they assembled on the pier and got into the cabs, Nabiki’s 
songbirds suddenly took wing and flew away. She called to them by 
name, but they didn’t reply and they didn’t return.
     “What was that for?” She asked Ukyo sadly.
     “I don’t know,” Ukyo replied. “I really wouldn’t worry though, 
they love you Nabiki. You can see it when they’re around you. I 
think they’ll find you again no matter where you go.”
     The cabs took them to the dojo, each being prepaid by Hiro 
Ohata. After an hour of negotiating traffic, the cab conveying Ranma, 
Akane, Nabiki, and Hiro arrived outside the gate of the Tendo Dojo. 
Genma and Nodoka Saotome, Soun and Kasumi Tendo, Doctor 
Tofu and Akari were waiting for them. 
     Kasumi had three lovely songbirds perched on her shoulder. 
They chirped excitedly as they saw Nabiki step out of the cab. She 
called to them by name once again, and they alighted upon her 
hand. They began to sing a bright aria for her, and Nabiki smiled 
and scolded them softly for deserting her like that.
     “Oh Nabiki!” Kasumi exclaimed. A tear of joy fell down her 
pretty face. “They seem to know you!”
     Nabiki grinned and hugged her older sister. “You could say that, 
Kasumi-dear.”
     The Saotomes and Mister Tendo came up and hugged Ranma 
and Akane.
     “Welcome home, son,” Soun and Genma said to Ranma in 
unison.
     “The both of you look very tan for spending your time in England,” 
Nodoka remarked. 
     “It’s a long story, mom,” Ranma replied. “A reeeeal long story.”
     “You can tell me all about it the rest of the summer then,” she 
said with a wry grin. “And I want all of the details.”
     Akane giggled as Ranma blushed.
     “_All_ of the details?” Ranma asked sheepishly.
     Nodoka looked up at her son sternly.
     “_All_ of the details, dear. I’m a married woman, so I don’t 
think I’ll be too terribly shocked by anything you have to tell me.”
     “We’ll see about that,” Hiro cracked just out of elbow range.
     Nodoka covered her lips with her hand politely to hide her 
laughter. Ranma began to find previously unknown shades of red 
and displayed them prominently on his face. Even Akane blushed 
a little, though she was mostly laughing at Ranma.
     The cab carrying Ukyo, Ryoga, and Tatewaki Kuno pulled up 
alongside the gate. Ryoga’s heart nearly stopped as he saw Akari 
giving him a dreamy look. He stammered a greeting as she presented 
herself before him.
     “Did we get lost again?” She teased him gently.
     He looked down at his feet and mumbled something in the 
affirmative.
     “Well it’s a good thing I’m so patient, my dearest Ryoga,” she 
laughed gently again for him. “Although this story had better be good, 
because I was so worried about you!”
     “Y-Y-You were?” Ryoga stammered.
     “Of course I was,” Akari replied softly. “I know how lonely my 
dearest Ryoga can be when he’s lost.”
     They took the reunion inside, where a dinner large enough for all 
of them awaited. Hiro hated to leave, but knew he couldn’t stay more 
than a day or two. He did have his obligations. It just felt so good to 
be home. Even if it was the Tendo Dojo. From the first day he had 
spent there it had seemed like a home to him. More than any place 
in his native Osaka anyway.
     Ranma patted his shoulder as he stepped through the door.



                          Aftermath



     It was Christmas Eve, and as the snow fell outside, all was merry 
and warm within the Tendo home. All of the family and friends were 
gathered around the living room table as Akane and Kasumi brought 
out mugs of cocoa from the kitchen. Ranma accepted his mug with a 
nod, noting with pride how pretty the ring looked on Akane’s finger. 
She caught his sidelong glance at her engagement ring and chuckled 
softly for him.
     It had been a calm summer and a boring autumn. Akane had gone 
back to school with Nabiki, though Ranma had not. There hadn’t 
been nearly the argument over the subject with Akane as he’d thought 
there would be. She actually respected his decision to stay at the dojo 
and take over full time from her father. 
     Ukyo sat with her boyfriend in the corner and watched the snowfall. 
They weren’t very serious yet, but who knew? Ukyo was going to 
school as well, having sold the okonomiyaki shop to her cousin. She 
gave him a good deal on it after having to put up with running the 
place for a lot longer than planned. 
     If Fyodor hadn’t been so good about cleaning and locking the place 
up after kidnapping them, Eiji might have actually noticed that 
something was wrong. As it stood he was doing pretty good with the 
place. Ranma occasionally complained that Eiji wasn’t as free with 
the okonomiyaki as his lovely cousin had been, but Ukyo just patted 
him on the head and gave him the ‘poor baby’ treatment. They had 
become close friends once again, perhaps closer than they had been 
before, and Ranma was very happy about that.
     Tatewaki Kuno tried to look dignified as Nabiki lay in his lap and 
sipped her cocoa. Her songbirds sang Christmas carols for them, and 
had learned quite a repertoire of Japanese folk music in their short 
time at the dojo. They adored Kasumi, who spoiled them rotten with 
treats from the kitchen. Nabiki had never known birds for sweet-tooths, 
but if any did, they were hers.
     Kuno was going to the same college as Nabiki, Ukyo, and Akane 
on a kendo scholarship. As he was quick to point out, he was the rising 
star in the world of collegiate kendo, and soon he would be going 
professional in preparation for his own dojo. Nabiki had already 
volunteered to handle the finances required for such an ambitious 
project as Kuno had in mind. 
     As far as any relationship went between them, it was still a game 
of inches. Kuno had matured considerably under Nabiki’s tutelage. He 
was still a pompous braggart, it was just that he was not a pompous 
braggart when she was around. Which was often. Some might call that 
change, but as far as Ranma was concerned the jury was still out. At 
least Kuno had recognized his engagement to Akane, and with Nabiki 
giving him tough love there wasn’t much of a problem on the Pig-Tailed 
Girl front either.
     Ryoga and Akari were sitting out on the deck. They had a thick 
blanket wrapped around them. Ranma was sure Ryoga had proposed 
to her, but couldn’t drag a confession out him no matter how hard they 
beat on each other. Ryoga hadn’t been around much, probably because 
he was learning about Akari’s family business...
     He thought about his own proposal. It wouldn’t be long before he 
and Akane tied the knot. Memories of that glorious night in Monaco, 
of him dancing with Akane, came back to him in a rush. He might have 
thought he hated it before, but as he looked back to the summer he 
knew those were the best days he had ever spent with her.
     His parents and Mister Tendo had been ecstatic about his marriage 
proposal to Akane. They had thus far been able to keep mention of 
their intimate sleeping arrangements a secret from them, although 
Ranma had the funny feeling that his mother knew that he and Akane 
were making love and was just keeping mum about it for her own 
reasons. 
     They had exercised a few precautions in that regard as well. 
Neither of them was ready for a child just yet. Ranma wanted to get 
he dojo recognized a little better first, hoping to draw on more 
business that he could support that future family. He wanted 
children -eventually, and Akane did too, but this was something 
they had to plan ahead for.
     He was still thinking about that family when Akane settled into 
his lap. She caught the gleam in his eye and patted his cheek with 
her hand. She knew there was some mistletoe hanging up around 
here somewhere...
     A knock came at the door. At first Kasumi thought it was the 
Takedas and the Oshitas caroling. They were the two Christian 
families in the neighborhood and very nice people. She opened the 
door to find one man stamping his feet on the mat. He wore a black 
greatcoat and a white scarf wrapped around his neck. An attaché 
case was loose in his hand.
     “Merry Christmas!” Kasumi greeted cheerfully. “Won’t you 
come in?”
     “Thanks Kasumi,” the man replied.
     Recognition set in at last.
     “Oh my! Mister Ohata! Welcome! We’ve missed you.”
     Hiro smiled for her. “I’ve missed this place myself.”
     “Hiro!” Akane cried, leaping up from Ranma’s lap to hug him. 
Nabiki and Ukyo got their own hugs in as well. Hiro smiled again 
as Kasumi handed him a mug. Ranma and Ryoga waved, Kuno 
gave him a firm nod.
     “What brings you here Hiro?” Ranma asked.
     Hiro looked around and sighed sadly. “A little business I’m afraid.”
     “What is it?” Akane asked worriedly.
     Hiro sat down on the floor next to the table and bid them do 
the same. 
     “This is sort of my last job for the Professor.”
     “How’s that?” Ranma asked.
     Hiro looked away for a minute. 
     “Professor McFogg passed away last week. It was a stroke, he 
went in his sleep.”
     Akane gasped in horror.
     “It was painless and quick,” Hiro assured her. “I saw him lying in 
bed after the maid discovered him. He was smiling and his eyes were 
closed. I know he didn’t suffer, and well, he was getting on in years.”
     He looked away again, and Nabiki saw him wipe away a tear. “It 
was just his time,” he finished. He took a deep breath as Ukyo 
squeezed his shoulder.
     “Anyways, the Professor changed his will around after our little 
adventure. You and Akane-chan are named in the will. He never had 
any children, and a few distant relations will be getting most of the 
inheritance, but he set aside a few things that you seemed to be 
interested in, Akane-chan. Things like his old maps and paintings from 
the study are yours. They’ll be here within the week.”
     He opened the attaché. 
     “There’s also the matter of a trust fund that he had his lawyers 
set up for you.”
     “Trust fund?” Nabiki piped up.
     “Yeah. Most of the Professor’s remaining wealth was in property. 
Except for the mansion in Aldershot, it’s all being sold to pay off 
debts and inheritance taxes. Once the government and the lawyers get 
their cut, the rest is supposed to be divvied up into a few trust 
funds.”
     He read the documents from the attaché.
     “One of these is to go to the ‘family’ of Ranma Saotome, to 
include his wife and children, payable in annual installments of five 
percent upon the day of his wedding and from each year thereafter. 
There’s more, but it’s all legalese.”
     Akane looked to Ranma, who shrugged for lack of anything better 
to do or say.
     “How many zeroes are we talking about, Hiro?” Nabiki asked.
     Hiro thumbed through a few estimates from McFogg’s lawyers. 
“I’m told it’ll probably come down to about 40,000 Pounds. That’s 
about eleven million yen.”
     Genma nearly fainted. His son almost joined him.
     “No pressure on you guys to get married, huh?” Ukyo teased them.
     Akane nudged Ranma. 
     “We should probably make an offering and say a prayer for him at 
the shrine,” she whispered.
     Ranma nodded slowly and gave her a squeeze. She was close to 
tears in his loose embrace. He felt a lump in his own throat as well. 
While he had never been as close with the Professor as Akane, he 
had really liked the old man. 
     “Hey now, no sniffles,” Hiro scolded the two. “You know the 
Professor wouldn’t want that.”
     He took a drink from his mug. “I do have some better news to 
report. Ferguson got his doctorate a couple months ago. He rammed 
his thesis right down the board’s throat. They were in there seven 
hours and everybody who was everybody was showing up. Ferg 
tore ‘em apart. He didn’t even have to come back a second time. He 
and Mister Clay have a paper going together and the buzz on the 
intellectual street is talking like they have a trip to Stockholm in 
their future. Doctor Casimir’s getting credit too, since he helped 
get the model back on track. Just think, you guys might know a 
couple Nobel laureates very soon.”
     He took another drink, Kasumi refilled his mug from the kettle.
     “The Prince of Monaco came to the funeral. He wanted me to 
convey his best wishes to Ranma, Akane, Nabiki, and Tatewaki 
Kuno -also known as the Blue Thunder. He also extends his 
welcome to each of you to come back for next year’s Grand Charity 
Ball, and is quite happy to make the arrangements to get you to 
Monaco in time.”
     “You two are planning on a June wedding, right?” Nabiki asked 
Ranma and Akane. They nodded. “That would be some honeymoon, 
know what I mean?”
     Akane gave Ranma a dreamy look and he knew that the plans 
might as well be set in stone now.
     “He also promises to provide better security for you this time, 
discreetly of course,” Hiro finished with a grin.
     Everyone face-faulted.
     “Other than that, Merry Christmas all!”



                          *       *       *



     The night went on as they talked and told stories and relived 
their June adventures. The snow began falling a little harder now and 
they all went outside to stand in the middle of it. Breaths steamed 
from their lips as Kasumi led them in one of the few Christmas carols 
everyone knew. 
     Hiro watched them all and smiled. He knew he couldn’t stay for 
long this time either, but for just a little while he felt like he 
belonged. The world was a big place, and he still had to do a bit more 
in it before he ever returned to Japan for good. 
     Ryoga and Akari looked quite content as they stood side by side. 
Ukyo and her artist boyfriend had a similar look. Even Nabiki 
and Kuno had a little bit of a glow about them as they stood close. 
He spied Kuno taking her hand in his and grinned as Nabiki smiled 
with satisfaction to herself. 
     It was Ranma and Akane that warmed his heart the most. The 
first time he had ever seen Akane was from a photo that Ranma used 
to look at when they shared a listening post watch out in No-Man’s 
Land during the war. The look Ranma gave that photograph was the 
same wistful loving look he gave her now. As they took each other’s 
hands he realized something new about them. 
     It was true that Ranma had proposed to her, had even given her 
a ring (a little after the fact mind you.) It was true that the 
wedding ceremony wouldn’t be until next June. It was all just the 
trappings though; just going through the motions. As Hiro watched 
them he knew that in their own hearts and minds they were already 
married.



               The End of Chasing the Wind



Author’s Notes:

1) Jeez.... 44,000 words for Part 10. It’s a good thing I like the 
abuse. Chasing the Wind now tips the scales at about 219,000 words. 
I do it all for you.

2) The two flashbacks Ryoga has of the war are quoted directly from 
Ranma Goes to War and Once More Into the Breach (RGTW 2) in 
case anyone is curious.

3) USS Wahoo was a famous submarine of World War II. She was 
commanded by the legendary CDR Dudley “Mush” Morton. Wahoo 
was lost on October 11, 1943 after transmitting the following series 
of messages: “Wahoo gunning, Convoy running.” and the fatal 
“Destroyer gunning, Wahoo running.” She was sunk in a depth charge 
attack and all hands were lost..

USS Tang was an equally famous submarine commanded by CDR 
Robert “Killer” O’Kane. Tang was lost on October 25, 1944. After 
firing her last torpedo of the patrol while surfaced, a wave tipped the 
fish over and it came back at them. The explosion threw the eight men 
topside overboard, including “Killer” O’Kane. The rest of the crew 
went down with the boat.

I mention this because of my particular link to both boats in the form 
of a silver plated cribbage board that can be found in the Wardroom 
of USS Kamehameha. This cribbage board was the very same one 
used by “Mush” Morton and “Killer” O’Kane in those fleeting 
moments when both sub captains were in port at the same time. They 
played cribbage and discussed the very tactics that allowed the United 
States Pacific Submarine Force to account for 80 percent of all tonnage 
sunk in the Pacific during the war. The cribbage board was donated to 
the ship by the widow of O’Kane when Kamehameha was 
commissioned in 1965. I cannot think about that cribbage board 
without thinking of those two legends, and my ghost sailors are a 
tribute to those 3500 men who are still ‘On Patrol’ in the cold deep 
waters of the ocean.

4) “The Ghosts of Cape Horn,” by Gordon Lightfoot, 
Copyright 1977. Now did Aerandir get this song from Gordon 
Lightfoot, or did Gordon Lightfoot get this song from Aerandir...? 

5) Of course I couldn’t cure Ranma’s curse. But what did you think 
of Ryoga? 

6) Very warm thanks to the following beautiful souls:

Dizzy  -The one who did this to me.
Deranged Gear  -Who always had a beer and a bagel waiting.
Yoshio  -Who told me to relax and do this right.
Bridget Engman  -Who has given me chocolate and dreams.
Jennifer Whitton  -Who has never stopped grinning for me. <g>
Sean Gaffney  -Who gave me the hardest time and the most support. 
Lucas Muzzatti  -Who gave me Azusa, even if I didn’t want her.
Krista  -Who gave me Hearts of Ice to obsess over.
Chris Rijk  -Who ragged me constantly on picky little details.
Kris Overstreet  -Who has a really cool beard in his smiley.
Suds-kun  -Who has given me tea-kettles and rabbit jokes.
WebDragon  -Who gave me an axe murdering Kasumi and poems.
James ‘Jaymz’ Cullen  -Who leads the FFML Metal Militia!
Grendel  -Who still catches my mistakes even when no one else does.
Wayne Pillion - Who was gentle even when he gave me the prod.
White Wolf  -Who puts up with these huuuuuuge installments of mine.

7) I have no *immediate* plans to continue this story line. In fact 
I shall probably pick up Snipes in Wonderland full time, even if 
most of you don’t want to read a Robotech fic. (As long as one 
person writes to me asking about Snipes I know I have an audience, 
so :p”) 

8) Oh yes, for those of you who are curious about the little gifts 
that Aerandir, Anazali, and Minhiriath gave to Ranma and Company, 
they shall be revealed in future stories as I choose to write them.

Free the Nukes!