Well, looks like responses have been rather good, but
some have
suggested providing more of a hook into Ranma. I thought
about it for a
while, and decided to revise the teaser a bit. TH Tiger, I
decided to use
one of yours after all. Hope you all like it!
=================================
Knight Rider: A shadowy flight, a young loner's
crusade to protect
the innocent, the weak, and the helpless. One man in a
dangerous world of
criminals who operate above the law. A man who does not
exist, and a car
unlike any other.
Hmm... a bit different than the TV series opening, but nice.
Part One, One Man Can Make A Difference
==================================
Nabiki Tendo sat in the plush office, the recent
conversation cause
for both celebration and concern. The room was almost
Victorian in design,
as was the rest of the mansion. An ornate mahongany desk,
behind which she
sat, rested before a large picture window that allowed the
Virginia sun to
cast its light on the expensive furniture and polished wood
floors. Shelves
of literature lined the two far walls, flanked by busts of Plato and
Socrates on each side.
Oh, great. Nabiki as Devin. Ranma's SO in trouble....
The project, so long in development and so high in
cost, was nearly
complete. Only one element was missing, the most important
one, a pilot. The
Autonomous Knight Automotive Ninja Enforcer, despite all its
<blink blink> Oh... no. You wouldn't....
capabilites,
still needed a human at the controls. Without that, it was
just an immensely
powerful and insanely expensive car.
She had personally screened dozens of potential
drivers, none of
them measuring up to what William Knight deemed necessary.
Nabiki often
found herself ready to tear into the damnable old goat when
he sent another
one packing. Why wouldn't he just pick one?
Activating the sleek terminal on her desk, an object
entirely out of
place with the antique luxury of the office, she called up
the files on the
next batch of drivers. Her eyes locked on the first name, one
Ranma Long.
Ranma _Long_? Later on, you have him as Ranma Saotome... which is
it?
======================================
The sun descended below the Arizona horizon, bathing
the desert with
glorious hues of purple and fiery gold. The road, to the
causal observer,
seemed to stretch into infinity, almost as if it were
connecting heaven and
earth.
Ok, that seals it. You've been to Arizona, haven't you? Admit it!
(sorry, grew up in Tucson. :)
The roar of engines disturbed the almost solemn silence of the
desert, halogen headlamps piercing the encroaching darkness with their
artificial glow as the two automobiles streaked down the
blacktop. The lead
car swerved from lane to lane, tires squealing slightly as it
moved to cut
off the cruiser behind it.
Ranma Saotome silently cursed as the two thugs
managed to cut him
off again. His knuckels grew white as he gripped the wheel
ever tighter, the
350 fuel-injected engine screaming as the speedometer needle
held steady at
120 mph.
He couldn't believe how badly the bust had gone. The
two ahead were
dealers for La Eme, or Murder Inc. as many called them. Julio
Sanchez and
Juan Garcia had been the target of the sting operation for
months, suspected
of running majiuana and cocaine across the border for the
marijuana
infamous Mexican
Mafia. Bringing those two in quietly would have not only given them
information, but would also have cemented the pay raise Ranma had been
angling for.
Now, he was the only cop left to chase them down. A
detail of three
Highway Patrol officers had been murdered when they
discovered the sting,
something Ranma intended to see those two bastards pay for.
Oh, that's bad. Nothing pisses off a cop like a baddie wasting his
buds.
The city of Phoenix grew increasingly closer, looking
for all the
world like a glowing oasis in the expanse of sand and rock
that even native
animals found hard going. Traffic was getting thicker as they
neared the
city, cars appearing as rapid blurs of headlights as he raced
after the two
suspects. Whatever else happened, Ranma would nail those two
no matter what
it took.
Still the same old Ranma... ;)
The car in front, a white Buick caked with the desert
dust, swerved
abruptly to avoid a newer model Cadillac. Ranma matched the
maneuver easily,
keeping with the suspects with his unmarked Crown Victoria.
His training in
martial arts, not to mention defensive driving techniques
taught at the
academy, had honed his reflexes to razor keen perfection.
Despite this,
however, Ranma felt a slight sensation of unease in his gut.
A high speed
chase through a city such as Phoenix, much like anywhere else
in America,
usually ended with several wrecked cars and people injured or
killed. All it
took was one slight misstep and it would be all over.
Do I sense a little not-so-subtle foreshadowing here? :)
While their car may have been able to hang with his,
it could not
out run the radio. A call placed to the Phoenix Police had
Not sure if Police should be capitalized... if you said the Phoenix
Police Department, sure, but as-is, it doesn't seem right.
Of course, you could just say PPD, but that would seem out of place
too. :)
warned them of
the chase headed their way. Their units would be in position, waiting
somewhat impatiently to block the two's escape. The local
cops would be
anxious to tear into the ones who had just killed three of
their own. Law
enforcement was practically a huge family, and when you
messed with one, you
messed with them all.
Yuppers.
Moral, kiddies? Don't mess with cops. :)
"Damn idiot!" Ranma exclaimed as the Buick cut off a
small Hyuandai.
Trying to picture what, exactly, a Hyuandai looks like. I don't
believe I've ever seen one....
The tiny compact's brakes screamed as it dodged the larger
piece of Detroit
engineering only to smack into another car on its right.
Ranma kept after
them, not sparing a glance at the accident behind. Paramedics
would soon be
on hand to tend to the injured.
He slammed on the brakes, cranking the wheel hard to
the right to
follow the suspect's abrupt turn. The anti-lock brakes
allowed to perform
the powerslide maneuver, spinning the wheel in the opposite
BZZZT!
:)
If he has anti-lock brakes, he's not going to be able to spin it
like that. The whole point behind anti-lock brakes is to NOT let the tires
slide. Unless the road conditions are nasty - ice, snow, gravel, etc - the
ABS will keep him from spinning out.
Now, an emergency brake powerslide move would have the effect you
described... if the car had the emergency brake linked to both rear wheels
(which is not usually the case - I believe it's usually front-left and
rear-right, but I could be mistaken).
direction and
punching the accellerator as he came out of the spin. The rear tires
squealed for a moment as the powerful engine's torque jumped,
Here's the other thing, and I know it's kinda nitpicky, but here
goes. Unless I'm badly mistaken, aren't Crown Victorias front-wheel-drive
cars? I mean, you can spin out a FWD car AND smoke the tires - I've done
both, don't recommend it - but the rear tires wouldn't be doing the
squealing if it is a FWD.
catching and
propelling the car forward again. They had managed to gain a
couple of feet
on him, though still remained in sight. They probably knew that police
roadblocks were being set up just about everywhere.
And that's the last bit - how did the crooks pull the turn off
better? A Crown Victoria is a pretty good car, and handles nice. What are
the baddies driving that allowed them to shoot the turn better and gain some
space? Or is it just because Ranma wasn't expecting the turn?
They were stickng to the main streets so far, dodging
and weaving
through slower traffic as they tried to escape. Ranma's eyes
kept scanning
as much of the city as his speed would allow, details
becoming lost in the
blur of motion around him. Up ahead, he saw the tell-tale
flashing blue
lights and allowed himself to smile. This just might...
Every time _I_ see those, I'm not smiling.... :)
//CRAP!\\ The Mercedes ahead to his right moved into his lane,
forcing him to swerve out into oncoming traffic. Time seemed
to slow to a
crawl as another Crown Victoria, a navy blue one, pulled out
of a nearby
side street directly into his path. His eyes locked with the
driver's, an
elderly lady whose face went pale from terror as he
desperately tried to
avoid the horriffic wreck that was sure to come.
horrific
The two cars collided, the front left wheel riding up
onto the hood
of the other car briefly as it was launched into the air. The G-forces
increased as the world began to spin out of control, his car
leaving the
ground and spinning in space.
"1... 2... 3... 4! This is getting - 5 - exciting, folks! 6! 6
spins! Can he make the landing...?"
The sound of his roof hitting the pavement was
immediately followed
and dwarfed by the thunder of his car rolling back into the
air and hitting
the street again. Ranma couldn't count how many times the car
flipped over,
"OOhh... what a tough break for Saotome, folks. A great jump, but
he just couldn't stick the landing. Our next contestant ..."
:)
just praying that he would survive the accident. Another sound ripped
thorugh his ears as the car abruptly stopped. Ranma barely
felt the impact,
could hardly feel anything as the cold crept through him and
the world faded
into nothingness.
Owie. Yeah, that would hurt just a mite.
==============================================
Nabiki looked at the bandaged form lying still on the bed. The
hospital room, like every other on the face of the planet,
was a study in
sterility. The walls, floor, ceiling, every available surface
was a dull
off-white color that reminded Nabiki of sick people. She
really hated hospitals.
Welcome to the club.
The form stirred, slowly awakening beneath the thin
sheet covering
from the neck down. She had to admit, his recovery was
nothing short of
miraculous. The accident should have killed him, officially
had in fact, and
yet a mere two weeks later he was almost ready to leave. If
nothing else,
Ranma was made of some pretty stern stuff.
A doctor came in shortly after Ranma began to awaken, a nurse
following with a tray of gauze and scissors. He was a balding
man, the white
lab coat hiding the physique his gallant posture hinted
towards. The nurse,
a petite brunette in a white blouse and khakis, moved to
Ranma's face while
the doctor took a pair of scissors to the bandages.
The gauze coverings fell away as the scissors sliced
through them,
eventually revealing a brand new reconstructed face.
"You're covered for the first 5000 smiles, sir. Here's your
warranty card."
"Welcome back, Mr. Knight," Nabiki said, using
Ranma's new surname.
Ranma's sea blue eyes fluttered open, casting a bleary gaze
in her direction.
"Who're you?" he asked, his voice scratchy from weeks
of not being used.
"My name is Nabiki," she replied, "you're a very
lucky man Mr. Knight."
Nabsie's dialogue should be broken up into two sentences, or you
need to put an 'and' in front of 'you're'.
"Knight?"
"The doctors said your memory may be a little off due
to the head
injury you sustained," Nabiki said, hoping the thin
explanation would hold.
"Fortunately, they were able to reconstruct your face." The
doctor, who had
remained silent during the exchange, handed Ranma a mirror.
Ranma stared into the reflective surface, running his
fingers across
the side of his face. His eyes showed a brief flash of
recognition before
becoming lost and confused again.
"My face..." he trailed off as he continued to stare
into the mirror.
If Ranma starts laughing maniacally and carrying around a pack of
cards, I'm outta here.
"Ranma," Nabiki said, removing the mirror from his
grasp, "there is
a lot that has to be explained to you."
"Yeah, like who am I?"
"But not here," Nabiki continued despite the
interruption. "Get
dressed and meet me in the parking lot. The orderlies will
show you the way."
"Hey, wait!" she heard him shout as she left the room. Nabiki
resisted the urge to punch the nearest wall as she strode
briskly down the
antiseptic corridors. Of all the potential pilots, William just HAD to
choose that one, didn't he? No field tests, no sims of the
Two Thousand,
The Two Thousand? Don't you mean the Autonomous Knight Automotive
Ninja Enforcer? (I'm still shuddering over that one, BTW)
just a cop from Arizona who knew how to drive with the best of them.
William, in his usual fashion, had simply said that Ranma was
the one. No
one else could effectively pilot the damnable car, it had to be him.
Oh, well, if William wanted him that badly, Nabiki
would ensure that
he got him. And when he failed miserably, William would see
the light and
let HER choose. Or if, despite the odds, he was a success,
well, she would
be forced to a full course meal with humble pie for dessert.
I'm not sure the last sentence makes a whole lot of sense... I get
the humble pie reference, but the full course meal seems out of place.
===============================
The sun stabbed at Ranma's eyes as he stepped out
into the parking
lot. Cars and trucks of all sizes, shapes, and colors
occupied nearly every
available parking space in the expansive lot. Around the
perimeter stood
ancient pines, their green needles reaching to the heavens as
they towered
above the people on the blacktop below.
The clothes were a good fit, blue denim jeans that
were just baggy
enough to be comfortable and a white tee shirt covered by a
black leather
jacket. The air held a slight chill to it as October got
Ranma in leather. Lessee... that's once for me, once for Kenko,
twice for you... how many other fics has he ended up in leather? ;)
Although to be honest, mine probably doesn't count since it's still
in teaser status. :)
underway, promising
even more come November and December.
"Okay, Nabiki," Ranma said when he saw her. Her
charcoal gray skirt
and vest accented her curves perfectly, black stockings
vanishing above the
skirt's hem. "What's goin' on?"
Nabiki always was a sharp dresser. :)
"Your car is there," she said, pointing behind him.
"Come to FLAG
headquarters as soon as possible."
"Where?" Ranma asked as Nabiki entered the back of an obsidian
Mercedes sedan. The Swedish car's engine purred to life,
accellerating the
car out of the parking lot and his sight.
Ranma turned to see a sleek black Trans Am waiting for him. He
walked up to the idle machine, a low whistle of admiration
escaping his
lips. Every curve of the aerodynamic design flowed smoothly
into the next,
the somewhat pointed nose lending the impression of a bullet
on wheels. The
entire body was black, even down to the hubcaps. A red light
flashed back
and forth on the car's front, drawing his attention briefly.
Vwoo-vwoo.... vwoo-vwoo... :) Hey, that's as close as I can come in
text, ok?
Shrugging his shoulders, Ranma opened the driver's
door, sliding
into the tan interior. He closed the door, scanning the
impressive displays
of gadgetry on the dash.
Ah... KITT. The technophiles wet dream. :)
//Whoa.\\ The dashboard's displays were entirely
digital, not a
single gague to be found. A medium sized monitor, darkened
gauge
like the rest of
the dash, rested in the crook of the dashboard. In the
center, just above
the gear selector, was a small window and a panel of labelled
buttons all
within easy reach.
Ranma turned the key, the engine immediately humming
to life. The
dashboard displays lit up like a Christmas tree, three zeroes
appearing in
the window labelled "Mph".
//This looks like Darth Vader's bathroom,\\ Ranma
<snarf!>
thought as he
grabbed the steering wheel, a boomerang-shaped piece of black
plastic with
handles on each side. Shifting the car into Drive, he steered
it gently out
of the parking lot.
===========================================
The countryside blurred past, unnoticed by Ranma. His
hands worked
the steering wheel subconsciously, driving on auto-pilot as his mind
desperately tried to make sense of what had happened. He had
no memory of
who he was, of what he had been doing before waking up that
morning, that
Nabiki's explanation creating more questions than it
answered. What was
FLAG? For that matter, WHERE was FLAG? Maybe she expected him
to know how to
find it? And where had this car come from?
"I ain't gonna get answers like this," Ranma muttered
to himself as
he cruised down the mostly empty highway. "Maybe I should go
to this FLAG
thing. But where is it?"
"You mean you don't know?" The disembodied female
voice startled
him, the car veering wildly to the left before Ranma could
regain control.
"Who..." he began, unsure of what had just happened.
"Who said that?"
"I did," came the reply. Ranma looked down at the gear shift,
noticing the three vertical lines that had vanished into the
center of the
small window.
"Who.. what are you?!"
"I am the Autonomous Knight Automotive Ninja
Enforcer, or AKANE if
you prefer," the voice said, the three red lines rising and falling in
resemblance to a strange kind of frequency analyzer.
"AKANE?"
"That's right. And you are Ranma Knight, my driver."
"Hey, pal, I ain't your driver!"
"Yes you are," AKANE replied. "I was told that your memory was
damaged in the accident, so I understand your confusion."
"What accident!" Did this thing know something?
"I don't know the details, but you were in a very serious car
accident shortly after being assigned as my pilot. FLAG was
unwilling to
assign anyone else, possibly due to your rather high scores
on the tests, so
they waited for your recovery."
Tests?
Ranma struggled to keep his focus on the road, his
mind whirling
with conflicitng thoughts and feelings. What was going on!?
Why couldn't he
remember!?
"Ranma," AKANE said with a concerned tone, "your heart rate's
elevating, and your grip on the wheel is getting rather
tight. Are you okay?"
"You're squeezing me too hard! That's not covered by my warranty,
you know!" :)
Ranma slammed on the brakes, the rear wheels leaving
twin trails of
black streaks on the pavement as the car skidded to a halt.
"What's goin' on here!"
"Ranma, what are you doing?" AKANE demanded, "we have
to get to FLAG
headquarters."
"I ain't goin nowhere!" Ranma pulled the doorhandle,
a dumb sort of
surprise overtaking him briefly when the door refused to
open. "Let me out!"
"Ranma, I can't do that," AKANE replied.
Aw, man, you've been watching 2001 too many times... :)
"The hell you can't!"
"Listen, we have to..."
"I SAID LET ME OUT YOU PILE OF JUNK!"
"Pile...of...junk!?" Ranma, still trying to open the
door, didn't
notice the indignant tone in AKANE's voice. "Pile of junk, am
I? I'll show
you junk!"
Um... one would get the impression that Ranma really shouldn't talk
that way about AKANE.... :)
The shock of the takeoff caught Ranma totally by
surprise, forcing
him back in the seat as the car sped up. His hands grasped
the wheel in a
white-knuckled grip as he pounded on the brake pedal.
"HEY! What's happenin'!"
"You're going to FLAG headquarters one way or
another, even if I
have to drive you there myself!"
"Drive me yourself?" Ranma asked in disbelief.
"How're you gonna do
that?"
Well, gee, Mr. Observant, the car IS in motion and steering itself
while you're panicking and hitting the brake... perhaps there's more than
meets the eye? <smack> Duh.
"What do you think I'm doing now, moron?" AKANE
replied as the car
continued to accellerate. Ranma looked at the dash display,
shocked to find
the car already topping 160 and still climbing.
Was AKANE already equipped with Super Pursuit Mode? Or are you
giving her the works right from the start? (traction-spike tires,
convertible, SPM, etc).
"Let me out!"
"Not until we get to FLAG headquarters. Now sit back
and enjoy the
ride!" Ranma, realizing with dread that he was at the mercy
of AKANE, sat
back with his hands still on the wheel.
======================================
FLAG Headquarters was set back in the Virginia countryside, a
Victorian mansion dating back at least a century. Trees
dotted the green
landscape around it, a long gravel drive leading up to the
front doors.
Ranma took it all in, silently amazed. It was one of the most
expansive
houses he'd ever laid eyes upon. Pines, elms, oaks, and
weeping willows
streaked past as AKANE raced along the loose rock to the
looming estate.
"Uh, AKANE," Ranma said, "you gonna slow down?" The house grew
rapidly closer as the speedometer read eighty mph. "AKANE? AKANE!"
The brakes engaged, AKANE's rear sliding around and
throwing a cloud
of dust and gravel in its wake. Ranma's teeth clenched as his
grip on the
steering wheel threatened to break it. Squeezing his eyes
shut, he braced
himself for the inevitable.
The sensation of movement ceased, Ranma still
clinging to the wheel.
He barely registered the sound of his door opening. He slowly
opened his
eyes and gawked in amazement at the doors to the house.
"Ranma," AKANE said, "you can get out now."
Ranma wasted no time in leaping free, spinning around
to glare at
the sleek machine.
"The hell's wrong with you!"
"Am I junk now?" AKANE asked in a condescending and
intimidating voice.
"Why, you..." The door ahead swung open, Nabiki's
voice calling him.
"Ranma! So glad you could make it! This way, please!"
The halls of FLAG headquarters were as stately and
luxurious as the
grounds. Everywhere Ranma looked he saw pieces of classical art and
sculpture. The walls and hardwood floors were polished almost
to gleaming.
He lost count of how many doors he and Nabiki had
passed, simply
keeping an eye on her. Up a flight of stairs, a few right
turns, a left,
and... Ranma found himself before a large oak door bearing a
chess piece on
it, a knight if he wasn't mistaken.
Naah... couldn't be a knight. No way. :)
The inside of the room was as comfortable as the
outside, a large
four-poster bed in the center. Nabiki stood aside as the form
beneath the
comforter rose to a sitting position.
The old man was deathly pale, his translucent skin
hanging off his
face. His eyes, on the other hand, held the intense and
determined gaze of a
man half, even a quarter of his years.
Need a comma after 'quarter'.
"Hello, Ranma," he said in a voice that sounded much
younger than he
looked.
"Who're you?"
"My name is William Knight, founder of the Knight
Foundation for Law
And Government. Or FLAG for short."
"So that's what FLAG is," Ranma said softly as the
realization hit him.
"I assume you met AKANE?"
"You mean that psychotic car?"
"AKANE is NOT psychotic!" screamed a voice from
behind one of the
doors in the room. It burst open, an Asian man storming
through. His thick
black hair was unruly, as if it had never seen a comb. Angry
brown eyes
glared daggers at him from beneath the yellow and black
bandanna, two small
fangs showing in his bared teeth. His white lab coat bore the
chess piece
logo on the left breast, hinting at the powerful physique beneath it.
"And she is not junk, either!" he snarled.
"Sorry, but, who are you?" Ranma asked.
"Allow me to introduce Professor Ryoga Hibiki, lead
designer of the
AKANE project," William Knight replied. "By the way, Ryoga,
why were you in
my closet?"
"Ah, sorry, Mr. Knight," Ryoga said sheepishly, "I
was trying to
find the bathroom."
<slap> D'OH! Oh, great, an absent-minded professor-type Ryoga.
Sheesh.. :)
"And you wound up in a closet?" Ranma asked in
disbelief. "How'd you
manage that?"
"Mr. Hibiki is a genius," Nabiki said, "but has a
terrible sense of
direction." Ranma blinked in confusion as Ryoga scratched
the back of his
head, a furious blush coloring his face.
"You hurt AKANE's feelings, Ranma," Ryoga growled at
him, his anger
back in full force.
"Hurt... how the hell do ya hurt a car's FEELINGS!"
"AKANE is not an ordinary car," Nabiki said, cutting off the
arguement before it could even start. "She was designed by the Knight
Foundation for the purpose of locating and apprehending criminals."
"Then why not sell it to the police, or the FBI?" Ranma asked.
"We are not talking about common street hoods Ranma,"
William said
just before a spasm of coughing seized him. Ryoga moved to
the ailing man's
side, offering silent comfort until the fit passed.
"These criminals often operate above the law,
powerful enough to
evade capture by conventional means and even corrupt some law
enforcement
personnel and agencies."
_Some?_
"So why do ya need me?" Ranma asked. "The damn thing
drives itself!"
"True, but AKANE cannot make the arrests herself, nor can she
interrogate suspects. For those reasons, among others you may
or may not
understand, she needs a human pilot."
"And that's me."
"You got it, Ranma," Nabiki said.
"Why me?"
"Because you're the only one who can," WIlliam Knight
said, his eyes
boring deep into Ranma's. He could feel the plea in that
gaze, the authority
the man held. Ranma nearly relented before his mind
re-asserted itself.
"What if I don't want to?"
"Fine by me," Ryoga said, "we don't need someone
who'll just yell at
AKANE and..."
Tell me he's not sleeping with her. Please. Tell me.
"Oh, will you..."
"ENOUGH!" William shouted, his voice booming through
the room with
startling force. He returned his gaze to Ranma, those eyes
filled with a
determination the latter had neer before seen. "Ranma,
please, pilot AKANE
at least for a little while. If you still don't want to drive
her, then I
will find someone else and send you on your way."
Ranma swallowed with an audible click, actually
intimidated by the
sickly old man before him. He had never felt that kind of raw
force from
anyone before, and knew he couldn't refuse. After all, he could leave
anytime, right?
"Just one question."
"Yes?"
"Who else is driving? I mean, AKANE ain't the only
one of those
things, right?"
"Actually, Ranma, she is."
"WHAT?!" Ranma couldn't believe what he had just
heard. Only one car
and one driver? "That's nuts! I'm just one guy!"
"Ranma," WIlliam said, the epitome of seriousness,
"one man can make
a difference. I am convinced that one man is you." The
silence afterward
seemed to press heavily on Ranma's shoulders, a burden he
soon wished to
shed. Nodding once, Ranma turned and left.
"Are you certain about this?" Nabiki asked. William
could hear the
unease in her voice, and could not blame her. He was
beginning to wonder
himself if this was a mistake.
"Yes," he replied. There was no sense in letting his
uncertainty
slip. After all, if the founder of FLAG didn't have total faith in his
agent, then how would the others gain faith in him? "I'm
certain he is the one."
"I'm not so sure," Ryoga said.
"Well, you were the one who programmed her," Nabiki
said. "We told
you not to..."
Not to what? Give her a temper? Teach her about the strategic use
of mallets? Fall in love? WHAT? :)
"It's too late for that now," William said. "Let's
just see how
Ranma and AKANE work together."
Hoo boy... this'll be one hell of a ride...
=========================================
The black Pontiac was still waiting by the front
entrance when Ranma
stepped out. The afternoon sun glinted off the smooth polish
of the car and
for a brief moment, Ranma could see why they called AKANE
"she". Not just
because of her voice, but because the streamlined body lent the car an
almost feminine appearance.
"Okay, um, hi AKANE," Ranma said nervously. Honestly,
why did he
have to make nice with a car? AKANE remained silent as Ranma
walked around
her front, his eyes registering the moving light on her
grille. She knew he
was there...
"Listen, that Knight guy wanted me to drive ya around
a little,
y'know? Get acquainted." He reached for the door handle,
nearly cursing when
he found it locked.
"Aw, c'mon, AKANE!" Ranma exclaimed, "let me in!"
"You wanted out so bad, and now you want back in?" AKANE said,
Y'know, the way that's worded... :)
"you're a real jerk, you know that?"
Need to capitalize 'you're', and put a period after 'said', above.
"I'm a jerk?!"
"Yeah!" Before Ranma could shout a response, her driver's door
opened. "Get in, Ranma," AKANE growled. "Let's get this over with."
"Fine by me." Ranma ducked into the car, the door
closing as the
engine hummed to life. "This time I drive, AKANE."
=================================
//Not bad,\\ Ranma thought to himself as he and AKANE
cruised down
the busy interstate, //not bad at all.\\ He had to admit
that, despite her
attitude, AKANE handled like a dream.
<snarf!>
They kept up at a steady sixty mph, vehicles of
assorted makes and
models interspersed along the eight lanes of pavement. The
sun had begun to
set, tinting the fields of grass and trees in its golden
glow. A few cars
already had their headlights burning, even though such
measures would not be
necessary for another hour at least.
Neither spoke, unable to find anything worthwhile to say. The
silence was cool and a little uncomfortable, Ranma's eyes constantly
scanning the dashboard and the road in an attempt to keep his
mind busy.
Directly ahead, a dull grey Audi 5000 slowed
abruptly, causing Ranma
to scowl in frustration. As he and AKANE grew closer, he
could barely make
out the tip of someone's head coming just above the seat.
//Damn Sunday drivers,\\ he thought, slowing AKANE down to
forty-five, then forty. The two cars held steady at that speed, others
passing around them like a metal river around a stone. Ranma
checked the
rearviews, looking for his chance to get around the Audi and
be on his way.
He suddenly grinned when he saw the gap in the
approaching cars. It
was slim, and were the circumstances different he would never
have tried it,
but he suddenly felt like seeing just what AKANE could do.
"Ranma, what are you doing?!" AKANE shouted when he
cranked the
wheel hard right and stomped on the gas. AKANE shot off like
a rocket, the
G-forces pushing Ranma back into the seat as the speedometer
sailed past
their former speed of sixty.
"Just seeing what you can do," Ranma announced calmly
as he dodged
other cars on the interstate. Horns blared as he and AKANE
roared past, the
speedometer topping 120 and climbing at a startling rate.
"Are you nuts?" AKANE shouted, "this is a busy interstate!"
"So? It ain't nothin' I can't handle."
"Slow down!"
"What, afraid of sctratchin' your paint?" Ranma
teased, blurring
past a UPS van.
EVERYTHING can blur past a UPS van, and I include my five-year-old
niece and her broken skateboard in that statement. Have you ever been stuck
behind one of those bastiches?
"Ranma," AKANE warned, "do you really want to get
pulled over? Mr.
Knight won't be too happy if you get a speeding ticket on
your first time out!"
"Oh, all right," Ranma relented, bringing them down
to a sane sixty
again.
"That's better," AKANE said.
"Listen, about before," Ranma began, forcing out the
words, "sorry.
You ain't a pile of junk."
"You're actually apologizing to me?" AKANE said in disbelief.
"Yeah."
"Apology accepted." The two rode in silence for a few moments,
allowing the countryside to pass them by. The sun had set
even farther, the
light growing dim as more cars flipped on their headlamps.
Twin squares on Akane's hood slid up, two cones of
light beaming
forth. Ranma blinked once, wondering when he had hit the
switch when he
realized that AKANE must have done it for him.
"Ranma," Akane said in a serious tone, "I'm
intercepting a police
transmission."
Cue dramatic drum roll.
Nice. On to the next...
Brian Payne
sofaspud@ior.com
brianp@nhspokane.com
http://www.ior.com/~sofaspud (new domain coming soon!)