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And the cries ring out. "IT'S OVER! YEEEAAAY! WAHOOO!".
----------------------------------------------------------------------
[SCENE: The flat in Manchester. WRITERSUBI at the keyboard with a
manic look on his face, ARTSUBI and CODERSUBI on the sofa, MUSICSUBI
at the stereo. The vocal collection from BGC2040 is blaring out of
it.]
ARTSUBI: You done yet?
WRITERSUBI: Nnn... nearly... Can't we turn the stereo down a bit?
MUSICSUBI: NO!
ARTSUBI: Nope. It's November the fifth, remember?
CODERSUBI: I remember remember.
ARTSUBI: Exactly. Bonfire night. Which means it's currently like the
bloody West Bank out there, so we have to paint the windows black
and pump up the volume so we can ignore it.
CODERSUBI: Y'know, I suppose Guy Fawkes night is actually tremendously
insulting to Catholics.
[Pause.]
ARTSUBI: We're not Catholic.
CODERSUBI: Yeah, I know. But when you think about it, it's basically
the Church of England sticking two fingers up at the Papacy and
saying "Ha ha, you screwed up."
ARTSUBI: Just shut up.
WRITERSUBI: Shakespeare and Ben Jonson wrote that rhyme.
ARTSUBI: What rhyme?
WRITERSUBI: "Remember remember the fifth of Novemeber, gunpowder
treason and plot. I see no reason why gunpowder treason should ever
be forgot."
ARTSUBI: You can shut up as well. Keep writing. Are you done _yet_?!
WRITERSUBI: Yes.
[He is flattened in a mad rush for the PC.]
ARTSUBI: ART!
CODERSUBI: CODE!
MUSICSUBI: MUSIC!
WRITERSUBI: Bloody _hell_, have we ever got to get another computer...
OW!
----------------------------------------------------------------------
NO OFFENCE INTENDED
If you're mentioned here, it is only because I hold your works in deep
awe and high regard. _Please_ don't get cheesed off. None of you
die, I promise. C&C is always welcome, and flames are attention of a
sort at least... ;)
----------------------------------------------------------------------
THE BIT THAT COMES BEFORE THE TITLES TO TELL YOU WHAT YOU'VE MISSED
I was eight, living with the parents in a village that had been
transported brick-by-brick from its original position in middle
England to just outside Tokyo. My father worked for the Japanese
government, fooling visiting foreigners about the true nature of the
product of the vast silicon chip mines. One day a girl called Tuzi
turned up and claimed to be my sister. Somehow, everyone believed
her, even my parents, despite the markings on her face and the rabbit
ears. But _I_ knew, oh yes.
A bizarre chain of circumstances involving and orange and a loaf of
bread had led to me challenging the only other English boy at the
school, called Lyn something-or-other to a game of cricket. At stake
was the avoidance of a fate worse than death as punishment for the
mashing the contents of Mr Kenshiro's underpants with a rocket shot.
Added to that was my growing realisation that _something_ was not
quite as it should be, but every time I sat down to have a serious
think about it, I... What was I saying? Oh yes, the cricket match...
[Archived at http://www.gameart.com/4ca]
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Republic of Desire
Part six: THE END! Or MAYBE! IF YOU'RE LUCKY!
Subi [05/11/00]
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Two Sundays hence I was standing before my team in the changing rooms
of the hastily erected cricket pavilion on the upper playing field.
They were not my... ideal choices. But definitely the best of a bad
lot, given that only four people in the school knew cricket to be
something other than an insect that goes chirp in the night.
I will spare you the agonies of the selection process. In the latter
days of the 1990s the England Selectors Board would receive some
rather heavy flak for their seemingly random choice of players. The
greatest condemnation, which invited David Gower to comment that he
was "disappointed", would come when they fielded a team consisting
entirely of monkeys from Twycross Zoo, with that fine actor Derek, who
we know better as "Dad" from the PG Tips adverts, captaining. Derek's
only remark regarding the team's 1016472195-nil thrashing against
Pakistan in the 1999 test series was to scratch himself and eat the
microphone. The following riots, which resulted in the bloody deaths
of the selection board at the hands of the mob, ushered in a new age
of reason in English cricket, and _Sir_ Derek took his now legendary
place as chairman of Lords. They still wouldn't allow women in
though.
Anyway, the point I'm _trying_ to get across is that this would be the
_only_ time in my _entire_ life that I would hold some sympathy for
that gaggle of senile old fools. My inclusion went without saying, as
did Tuzi's. Biles volunteered out of solidarity, which meant that
Ukyo, who had never responded to my Valentine's day cards, and Ryoga,
who had wandered into the practise session by mistake, joined up also.
Bewilderingly Rei Ayanami signed up, on the condition that Andrew
Huang was under _no_ circumstances to be allowed in. When asked why
she muttered something about "exacerbating her schizophrenia", so I
left it. The green and henna-haired Ryoko decided to support the
underdog again, IE me, and Rally Vincent responded positively to my
offer of my Father's complete collection of John Wayne films on 8mm.
Two rather quiet lads brought up the rear, Mokoto Mizuhara, who had an
odd habit of talking to household appliances, and Hiroshi Karigari,
who had an odd habit of enabling household appliances to talk back.
Finally Usagi said she'd play, which was vital to my overall strategy.
"Why?" asked Tuzi, quite clearly puzzled about my reliance on the
bubble-headed ice-cream black hole of the second grade. "Are you
planning to use some sort of ultrasonic warfare tactics?"
"No, they've been expressly forbidden since 1932," said Biles, who had
been caught by the cricket bug and now knew everything that there was
to know about the history of the sport.
"Just trust me on this one," I said. "I know what I'm doing."
"Yes, but we _don't_," said Biles. "Forgive our scepticism, but on
the evidence of the last five chapters you have shown nothing but a
tendency to run around like a headless chicken in a haze of
confusion."
"Couldn't've put it better myself," added Tuzi.
I was distressed by their lack of faith, and said so. "I am
distressed by your lack of faith," I said. "Granted, my performance
so far my not have been one of total comprehension, but cricket I
know. Fret not, I have a SECRET PLAN."
They didn't seem convinced. "We're not convinced," they said.
"Tough. Hang on, chapters? What do you mean _chapters_?"
"Pardon?" said Biles. I looked suspiciously at Tuzi, but she was
whistling "Danny Boy".
I thought back over the last few months, since SHE had turned up. It
was all _very_ confusing. Sometimes I felt as if I'd had an inkling
as to what was going on, accepted it as normal even. But other
times...
"Stay calm," said Tuzi.
I forgot about it.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
On that Sunday, as we left the pavilion and walked towards the pitch,
casting an eye over our opponents, I had other things to worry about.
It had rained heavily that morning, and I had nursed the faint hope
that the match might be called off. But the downpour abated around
elevenses, and everything smelled of new-mown grass.
Lyn had also done the best that could be done with his selection, and,
being a batsman, he'd gone for strength rather than cunning. For the
record I'd done neither; I'd gone with desperation.
Ranma and Akane made up the main powerhouse of his team. Ranma was an
obvious choice, and Akane was, let's not put too fine a point on it,
rather... beefy. Never within her earshot though. Kuno was in too, a
miracle of Lyn's powers of diplomacy.
Quite what that creepy Ataru was doing there I had no idea. Alita and
Gally were obviously out for revenge against Tuzi and I, and Priss was
probably in it for the money. Kanada and Tetsuo were in it for the
mindless violence. Obviously the "Kyonu dai yon" incident had been
forgiven and forgotten.
"We're in deep trouble here," remarked Biles.
At least the pitch and field were in spanking form. A circular ocean
of the finest turf stretched for the regulation distance, bounded by a
thick white rope and striped in that particular manner that can be
achieved with only the deftest piloting of a petrol-driven motor
mower. The twenty-two yards of pitch was as flat as the curvature of
the Earth would allow, and it had brought tears of joy to my eyes to
see Noriko trimming it to perfection with a pair of nail scissors
under the watchful supervision of Coach Ota.
The boundary was lined with curious onlookers. All had come from far
and wide to bear witness to this ancient ritual. Many had done their
homework and brought umbrellas. A girl in tigerskin bikini waved at
Ataru. She must be a bit parky in that, I thought.
My Father, and another ADULT I took to be Jean-Phillip, Lyn's father,
finished hammering the stumps into the hallowed turf (which had been
specially blessed by a Unitarian priest that morning) and reverently
balanced the four bails on top. They were dressed in what the layman
would take to be laboratory overalls, but which any sane man would
recognise as the uniform of an umpire, silly hat notwithstanding.
All was prepared and as it should be. "Right!" said my Father as we
approached. "You know the rules. Standard one-day match, one innings
of fifty overs each, maximum of ten overs per bowler. And let's not
have to leave the result to the Duckworth-Lewis, eh? Anything but
that." He patted me on the head. "Have you got the pebbles, o scion
of my bloodline?"
I passed over the six stones I'd lifted from our driveway that morning
and Lyn did the same to his Father. "Anyone got a coin?" asked Jean-
Phillip. No-one had any change. Fortunately my father had his old
lucky sixpence from his younger days, the one a distant ancestor had
carried on the R101. Okay, so he hadn't _survived_, but the football
pools coupon he'd posted just before embarking on his fateful journey
came up a winner.
Lyn and I faced each other across my father's outstretched hand, the
coin poised on the tip of his thumb. I led my team in the traditional
call of challenge.
"YOU'RE GONNA GET YOUR FUUUUUUUUUUH... KIN'-'EAD-KICKED-IN!"
Lyn smiled in satisfaction at this upholding of the old ways, and
motioned his team to make the accepted reply.
"COME-'N'-HAVE-A-GO IF YUH THINK Y'RAAARD ENUFF!"
The formalities over, my father tossed the coin. "Call!" he said to
Lyn.
"Heads!" came the reply. And heads it was. "You can bat first," said
Lyn, with mock generosity and an expansive gesture.
I looked at the damp ground below and the now blazing sun overhead.
"Oh... THANKS," I replied, with as much sarcasm as I could muster.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
It felt a good deal lonelier out there with just me and my fellow
opener. Hazarding a guess as to Lyn's choice of bowlers, I'd gone
with Ryoga as the second man. Plus, of course, there was a good
chance that, if he'd returned to the pavilion with the rest of the
team, he'd've ended up in the ocean when it came to finding his way
back out onto the pitch again. Besides, my SECRET PLAN would only
come into effect once we were bowling.
My guess proved correct as Lyn tossed the ball to Gally. I held a
final tactics conference with Ryoga before taking my place at the
sharp end. "Let me just check that bat," I said, worried by the fact
that he had his pads on upside down.
Ryoga passed me his bat and instantly I fell to the grass, my hand
pinned beneath the willow. "Get it off!" I screamed. Ryoga complied
and apologised. I decided that _anyone_ who could wield a bat _that_
heavy without breaking a sweat didn't need any coaching on the finer
points.
"Play!" said my Father, bringing his arm down.
It was down to me to face the first ball. Gally didn't bother with a
run-up, she merely wound her arm up into a blur and let fly at an
awesome velocity. I'm dead, was my final thought. The ball rocketed
out of her hand, shot straight towards me, caught the edge of my bat,
taking a substantial chunk out of it, and continued past Alita, who
was crouched behind me with the gloves on at wicket. It carried on
towards the far end of the field at close to the speed of light where
it came to rest against the sight screens. Fortunately Mr Kenshiro
had had the foresight to have them reinforced with Deuterium. They'd
also been sprayed crudely with the letters "OL 7 SKARRZ I5 A N3RD".
Everyone was slightly deafened by the impact, but whether I was numb
with shock or not, the ball _had_ hit my bat. "RUN!" I yelled at
Ryoga, who promptly spun on his heel and headed in the opposite
direction. "COME BACK!" I shouted, catching him up and pushing him
back onto the right course. Fortunately Lyn's somewhat odd choice of
fielding positions meant that they were still running for the ball by
the time we'd run one. Kaneda stood a chance of retrieving it, but he
was still fiddling with his aerosol.
Gally's second ball was thwacked for six by Ryoga, who didn't let the
sonic boom put him off one bit. Although in my opinion the distance
it travelled was worth _sixty_. Unfortunately the third one again
nicked the bat and this time thumped into Alita's hands. The speed of
the ball took her off her feet and almost to the spectators before her
inertial dampers kicked in, but she didn't drop the ball, and Ryoga
was out.
"HOWZEEEEE!" cried the opposition. It was seven for one.
Ukyo sadly faired no better. Despite using her six-foot spatula as a
bat the ball simply smashed straight through the thin metal and
rattled the bails. "HOWZEEEEE!" Things were not going well.
I glanced towards the pavilion where Rei was just emerging for her
turn. "Er... Father," I said, tugging at his sleeve as he stood next
to me. "We did say we were relaxing the uniform regulations, didn't
we?"
"Mmm? Why yes. I accept that regulation cricket whites are somewhat
tricky to come across at this longitude, so very far from the place of
the game's birth. Why do you ask? "
I looked up at Rei's choice of clothing for the match. About a
hundred foot high and bright orange it was, with one baleful orb
serving as its eye. Even Father raised an eyebrow when he caught
sight of it. "That thing's going to ruin the turf," he said.
Well, I thought, at least she won't have to run very far. Unit Zero
towered above Gally, who scowled in its shadow. The bat looked
ludicrously small, held as it was between forefinger and thumb.
Gally's fourth and fifth balls were deftly tapped back towards her,
but then disaster.
CLANG! went the ball against the enormous orange foot.
"Out!" went my Father. "LBW!"
"HOWZEEEEE!" went Lyn's team.
I ground my teeth. Size was not always an advantage. Not only the
stumps but most of the far side of the field had been obscured by the
Zero's bulk, so I really should've seen that one coming.
Ranma handed in his jumper to take the second over, and the end swap
meant I was facing his opener, with Hiroshi replacing Rei at the
other. Quite how Hiroshi's bat was standing upright without his
holding onto it I had no idea. Then I saw it start to jog up and down
on little legs and decided not to look anymore.
It didn't help when, after I'd belted Ranma's _extremely_ curvy ball
onto the offside, I saw the bat following Hiroshi on those very legs.
Three more, making ten for three. Hiroshi, or rather his bat, knocked
the next ball, which I swear went _behind_ the wicket before looping
around to the crease again, out towards Priss, who caught it on the
second bounce and scattered his stumps just as he was finishing the
second run.
"Out!" went my Father.
"What do you mean?!" I cried. "He was _well_ in!"
"Yes," said my Father. "But his _bat_ wasn't." He pointed towards
Hiroshi's sentient plank, which had stumbled and fallen in the middle
of the pitch and, possessed of no arms, had been unable to right
itself and follow its creator. Eleven for four.
"Sorry," said Hiroshi, shoving his glasses back up his nose. "Tennis
is more my game."
"HOWZEEEEE!" went Lyn's team.
"Arse," went I. And I damn well meant it too!
I looked towards the pavilion to watch my next batsman, Rally, walk
out. Tuzi gave me a wave from the veranda and I reciprocated rather
half-heartedly. I had been rather disappointed when she had insisted
on being last man in. I'd been rather counting on her support at the
off.
My favoured batsmen had all been dismissed, so I was pleasantly
surprised by Rally's skill when I'd been counting on her dead-eye
reckoning being more suited to bowling. Granted, her almighty hoick
at the ball, which sent it sailing almost vertically towards the sky
had me immediately thinking "caught and bowled". But, just as Lyn was
reaching up to catch it, Rally finished her second run, pulled out her
CZ75 and shot the ball away from under his nose.
We carried on in this vein, me hitting and Rally shooting, until we
reached forty-seven. Then Rally ran out of bullets and she was caught
by Ataru off of Alita. Well, I say _caught_, Ataru wasn't actually
watching the ball. He was watching the girl in the tigerskin bikini.
But the ball hit him on the back of the head, knocking him cold, and
it got stuck in the back of his collar.
"HOWZEEEEE!" went Lyn's team, with rather less gusto this time. I
smirked. Forty-seven would probably be enough against this lot. What
with my SECRET PLAN and everything.
Lyn approached. "I'm voicing a protest," said he. "Handguns are non-
standard equipment."
"You didn't mind the big robot."
"Yes, but this _is_ Japan."
"Fair enough. But you _might_ want to consider _this_ before you
start mentioning any... rule bending you feel I may be guilty of." I
dug out the piece of paper that Tuzi had given me two weeks previously
and let him read the single word writ upon it. He turned white,
"How... how did you find _that_ out?!" he choked, and returned to the
field without waiting for a reply.
Biles acquitted himself well, but his careful defensive style proved
no match for Alita's cannonball bowling. He apologised, saying he
hadn't reached the chapter on batting yet.
"HOWZEEEEE!" went Lyn's team, getting back into the spirit of things.
Makoto didn't stand a chance, Akane proving, unlike the entire female
population of another world, immune to his big-eyed charms. Besides,
his flirty technique was somewhat hamstrung by the twin sight of
Nanami and some blue-haired girl glaring daggers at him whenever he
tried it. And his attempt to become one with his bat was doomed to
failure. His leg stump took to the air after just three balls.
"HOWZEEEEE!" went Lyn's team, with greater confidence.
Ryoko, my star fielder, had a good approach. She racked up the runs
by teleporting from one end to the other in record time. I couldn't
keep up. However, tragedy befell her when she misjudged a jump and
ended up occupying the same position in space-time as the wicket,
resulting in its molecular extinction.
"HOWZEEEEE!" went Lyn's team, sensing blood.
Usagi, of course, just burst into tears.
"HOWZEEEEE!" went Lyn's team, the scent of victory in their nostrils.
Ho ho, thought I, contemplating my SECRET PLAN. Howzeeeee indeed!
----------------------------------------------------------------------
And so it came down to the final pairing of myself and Tuzi. At
seventy-three for nine I was feeling pretty good, and fairly sure that
_whatever_ Tuzi was really up to it wouldn't scupper my chance of
victory, whether I had a SECRET PLAN on not.
Of course, I was certain that _nothing_ would faze her, which is why I
would've preferred her to open the batting. But she'd insisted on
batting last, so here we both were. The twin broadside of Gally and
Alita disturbed her not one jot, Ranma's curve balls were effortlessly
popped to one side, and even Lyn's more conventional methods didn't
budge her one inch. But we didn't seem to be scoring any more runs.
Not one.
In fact, we were getting near the end of the fifty when she suddenly
checked her watch and looked up. I knew _something_ was going to
happen, because, apart from a vague memory of her mentioning something
about an alien invasion fleet, Lyn's fielding strategy had been
getting more and more bizarre. I mean, _all nine_ fielders at deep
backward square? What the hell was he thinking?!
Lyn pounded towards the wickets, wound up for a fast one, and sent a
perfect Yorkie sailing down the ptich, under her bat and right onto
the middle stump. We were all out. Then he looked up as well.
"HOWZEEEeee..." went Lyn's team, doing the same. I did too.
Now, I _had_ noticed it getting darker in the last ten minutes or so,
but I'd put that down to the usual effect that any cricket match has
on the weather. I was wrong; the sun was still shining brightly. It
was just being obscured by a dirty great spaceship that was hovering
above the centre of the pitch.
Everybody disgraced themselves simultaneously. Well, I presume they
did. I did. And cricket whites are just the sort of schmutter to
show that sort of thing up. You'll have to excuse me; I was only
eight after all.
As we watched, more ships appeared above the original, which opened a
hatch and released some sort of shuttle. It spiralled down and came
to rest at extra cover.
"Dah-dah-dah, dah, daaah," said Tuzi, dropping her bat and coming to
stand beside me. "Right on time."
"Is... _this_ what you were talking about? This is what you were
expecting?"
"Yup." She sniffed. "And I knew _that_ was going to happen too." I
blushed and plucked at my trousers.
"So... what... what are they here for?" I asked.
She pointed to Jean-Phillip, who had handed his bundle of jerseys to
my Father, who was looking a bit shellshocked, and stridden across the
grass to where the shuttle lay. "They come in peace. He works for
the UN, remember?"
I goggled. "So... hang on. It was Professor Nova who organised all
this? He set up a meeting between the UN and an alien race?"
"Yeah, those three we saw in his house? An advance party. Maeda
started it all off, with his rosy red behind signalling. The
Zentraedi saw them and made contact with the first human who picked up
their replies."
As we spoke, figures emerged from the shuttle. They were pretty much
identical to the ones I'd seen before, so I may as well reuse the
description. It went "Though humanoid in general shape, they were
nonetheless big and green. Big and green and knobbly and three in
number." And this time around they were all wearing silly hats.
As Jean-Phillip extended the hand of welcome Tuzi continued. "The
final signal for them to land was the positioning of Lyn's fielders."
"I _thought_ that was odd. But why meet at a school cricket match in
Japan?"
"Why not?"
I pondered this, but found her logic impeccable. "Okay, but you said
that the Zentraedi wanted to _invade_, and that Professor Nova was
being evil because it was in his job description."
"And I was right," she said, nodding back towards the shuttle.
I looked back just in time to see the Zentraedi wearing the most
ludicrous headgear make as if to shake Jean-Phillip's hand, withdraw
it at the last moment, thumb his nose, pull a fearsome looking weapon
from his belt and...
Tuzi put a hand over my eyes. "You're too young to see that. Urrr
yuck. So am I."
Chaos returned to the throne after the brief administration of the
people's government of wonder. And he brought his courtiers Panic and
Abject Terror back into office with him. I knocked Tuzi's hand away,
and promptly fetched up at the sight of the smoking pool of gunk in
front of the Zentraedi.
Tuzi grabbed my collar and hauled me away. "What the UN failed to
take into account," she continued as we ran, "Is the fact that
Professor Nova is a lying git. Stay there."
"What?" I said. We'd reached the sight screens.
"You'll be safe behind these. I've got something to do." And with
that she ran back towards the aliens and vanished into the churning
mob of agitated humanity.
"What?!" I repeated, as the ships hanging above the pitch opened more
hatches and disgorged literally _thousands_ of horrible green
paratroopers, each somehow contriving to have a bigger gun than the
previous one. They landed, and began.
There is something horribly clinical about the word "systematic", and
it exactly describes the method in which the Zentraedi went about
their business. The assembled people stood not a chance. They'd come
to enjoy a pleasant afternoon of sportsmanship, and now they were
fleeing an extraterrestrial invasion. And it was all my fault. If I
hadn't started on about cricket in the usual manner of an Englishman
attempting to appear interesting to foreigners, none of this would
have happened. Everyone would be sitting at home gently digesting
their lunches in front of the telly. And safe.
It was all. My. Fault.
My schoolmates were doing their best. Ranma, Ryoga, Akane, Ukyo and
Kuno were beating up anything that came within reach, and Ryoko was
grabbing hold of the enemy one-by-one, teleporting high above the
ground and letting them fall to their doom. Rally had found some more
bullets, but was watching them strike harmlessly against the thick
hide of the aliens. Alita and Gally had obviously slunk off,
forewarned by their evil uncle.
I patted my pockets and found my cigarettes, but I must've dropped my
lighter somewhere. The unlit fag hung forlornly from my mouth, which
sounds incredibly rude if you're older that I was. Then through the
melee I saw Tuzi. Alone of all present she stood erect, staring
confidently at the massed greenies before her. Sensing defiance they
turned as one in her direction.
Suddenly it didn't _matter_ if she was my sister or not. She was a
friend, someone I cared for, and she was going to get herself killed.
She faced them down, her ever-present grin obviously infuriating the
Zentraedi further. She reached behind her and produced a bag. A
Gladstone bag. She set it down on the ground before her and, as she
undid the clasp, time slowed, as it always does on these occasions.
And then.
A light.
A golden light, brighter far than the sun.
And at the centre, a creature. _The_ creature. But ravaged and
broken no longer. It was healed. It shone with an even more intense
luminescence, a radiance that touched and cured. The fallen rose
again, Jean-Phillip's body reforming in a backwards sort of melt, like
that bloke at the start of Hellraiser. Lepers stood upright, cripples
threw their crutches aside and the blind cast away their sunglasses.
Then reached for them again to shield their eyes from the glare.
The Zentraedi cowered in terror as the creature spoke.
"Pika pika!" it said.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Tea was a somewhat muted affair after all that. Everyone seemed a bit
dazed, but Tuzi was still grinning, so I presumed everything was all
right.
Both teams were seated on benches before a long table spread thickly
with cellophane-covered plates of food. Cucumber sandwiches and
Dundee cake. And fizzy pop. I fed my face. "So what _is_ that
creature?" I asked between mouthfuls, motioning to the bag under
Tuzi's chair.
She nibbled rather more delicately at a triangle. "Something ancient
and very powerful," she replied. "They originate in a land far from
here, you heard the Professor's description of how he stole this one."
I thought of that white-haired old maniac, whose house was now under
siege from the local Tank Police. "Is it okay inside that bag?"
"Oh yeah, it's fine. They seem to like enclosed spaces, spherical for
preference. It's just tragic what's going to happen to them in about
fifteen or twenty years time."
"What will that be?"
"People will trap them and force them to fight for their amusement.
Like they used to do with bears and cocks."
"That's sick."
"I quite agree."
"They live near where you come from, don't they?"
She grinned wider. "Did I say that?"
"Yes, you did, I remember now. In fact I can now remember
_everything_ that's been a bit... vague since you turned up. So now
you will kindly favour me with an explanation as to exactly what's
going on, all this 'chapters' and 'story arc' stuff."
"Later. You've got something else to do first."
I stole the last sandwich from under Usagi's nose and looked across at
Lyn, who was deep in conversation with his team, and smiled. "Oh
yes..."
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Now, being an experienced village cricket player, my usual fielding
technique, especially if we batted first, is to secrete a four-pack of
beer about my person and contrive to get sent out to long off where I
could drink in peace, taking my turn bowling when the need arose.
_Nobody_ at a village level of skill _ever_ hits balls out there.
But this time I had to forgo the pleasures of the ring-pull can. I
had to direct my team. I put Ryoga as wicketkeeper, on the grounds
that he wouldn't have to move very far and would probably absorb any
vicious ball that came his way. Ryoko was sent out to mid on,
although she could obviously teleport to wherever the ball was. I
told the rest of the team to spread themselves around the on side,
with only Ukyo and Rei covering the off. If my SECRET PLAN worked as
I planned, it wouldn't matter.
I considered the possible methods that each member of the opposition
would employ. Lyn was a good batsman, but he was only one man. Kuno
would probably end up slicing the ball in half with his bat, Akane
just wasn't graceful enough and Ranma would probably fall prey to the
remote-controlled ball that Hiroshi had prepared in revenge for the
spin bowling earlier. Ataru could be distracted by placing Rei on his
blind side - he wouldn't be able to stop himself looking, Shinji would
probably spend the entire time staring at his arm and Priss was never
going to get anywhere using her guitar as a bat.
I thought briefly about stringing Lyn along and letting him get within
one run of the required seventy-four before I unleashed my SECRET
PLAN, but my heart wasn't in it. I wasn't _that_ cruel. So instead I
opted to put him out of his misery right away.
"Usagi?" I called, "Could you come here please?" I threw the
meatball-headed cutie the ball and whispered urgently into her ear.
She blinked, nodded, and took her place to bowl the first over.
I had the satisfaction of seeing Tuzi genuinely puzzled for the first
time. "What _are_ you up to? You don't think she's going to be able
to get him out do you?"
"Oh no," I replied. "Not _her_."
Usagi posed and whipped out her disguise pen. "MOON POWER!" she
shouted. "Morph into... WG GRACE!"
And that was that.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
As mentioned before, all sheds are dimensionally transcendental, so
the one in our back garden was the perfect place to hold a celebratory
slap-up wing-ding nosh-up shindig-type thing.
"What?" said Biles.
"The PARTY," I replied. "The one to celebrate us winning the match
seventy-three to nothing by virtue of Usagi's hat-trick of hat-tricks
plus one."
"Oh that," he swigged from the bottle of lemonade I'd stolen from the
fridge. "Nice of you to invite the other team too. Shows good
sportsmanship."
"Actually," I decided to be honest, "I just wanted to laugh in their
faces."
"Go on then."
"BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAH!"
"Good laugh. Now do you want to try it at a volume they can actually
hear?"
"Not until I want my head kicked in, thank you." I picked up a plate
of sausages on sticks from its resting place on the lawnmower. "I
think I'll just gloat in private."
Tuzi nudged Biles in the back in passing, and hissed "Loose ends," in
his ear. Then she vanished into the crowd again.
"Oh yeah," he said, "What was on that piece of paper that spooked
Lyn?"
"You saw that did you?" I fished out said scrap and displayed it to
Biles under cover of my shirt. "His surname. Take it from me, that
is NOT a name a boy representing himself as an Englishman wants made
public."
Biles whistled. "I see what you mean." He looked around the crowd of
our peers. "Where is he anyway?"
"I asked him, but he said he'd rather get the punishment over and done
with."
"Yuck. Don't suppose he'd have much of an appetite after that."
"I quite agree," he stole a couple of sausages from my plate. "Now,
this big announcement of yours. Do you want to get it over with
before the fight starts?"
"What fight?"
He took a deep breath. "You've got Ranma, Akane, Ryoga, Ukyo, Kuno
and the rest of the Nerima crowd, Ataru, Lum, Shinobu, Rei, Shinji,
Rally, Ryoko, Mokoto, Nanami, Ifurita, Usagi and all her friends,
Hiroshi, both Maries, Priss, Kaneda and Tetsuo, Andrew Huang and Jim
Lazer together in an enclosed space. I'm astonished this shed is
still standing even now."
"Point taken, let's got then. Tuzi!"
She reappeared behind me. "Yes?" I jumped.
"Don't do that. How _do_ you do that anyway?"
"You're about to find out. Make the announcement."
I had prepared a small stage constructed from orange boxes near the
back of the shed, and we made our way to it now and climbed aboard.
There was a microphone there, as Priss was due to play us a few songs
later, which I tapped lightly with a pencil and coughed.
"EEEEEeeeeyoooOOOAAAaaauuuUUU," went the speakers. Priss scowled up
at me and hastened to turn down the amplifier. "One two, one two," I
continued.
"Why is it that, once you stick a microphone under their nose, nobody
is capable of counting any higher than two?" asked Biles.
"That's one mystery that _won't_ get answered tonight," I said.
"Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls," I continued into the
microphone. "Some of you will no doubt have noticed that there have
been many... out of the ordinary occurrences of late."
"Odder than normal, anyway," said Biles. "This is Japan, after all."
"I am assured that there is an explanation for all of this, so
therefore, without any further ado, I give you the girl with the info,
my un-sister... TUUU-ZIII!"
"Give me that," said that very girl, but good-naturedly, as if
acknowledging my right to behave like a total pillock in front of a
microphone. "Yes indeedy everyone, I have all the answers."
And she said them.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
"I'm not really his sister," she said into the silence that had
descended. I nodded in satisfaction. "I come from a land far from
here. From another planet in fact."
"Big deal," said Lum.
"Shhh!" said Shinobu.
"It's very like this one, as it orbits this same star. But directly
opposite, so you've never been able to detect it. It's a nice place,
inhabited by a race of hyper-intelligent six-foot pink bunny rabbits.
Although I'm half-human, as you can probably guess. My mother was an
astronaut from the secret side of the space program and she got lost
and landed on our world by mistake.
"She met my father there, and they had twins together, me and my
brother. Then she had to return here. I've already found her, but I
couldn't let her remember me, or father, or anything about our world,
because we want to keep our existence a secret. No real reason, we
just do.
"That's why I came to this planet, to make sure she and my brother
wouldn't give us away. I bumped into the Zentraedi on the way here,
which is why I came to Tokyo rather than going looking for my brother.
I don't know where he is anyway, he came back to Earth with my mother
and the government took him away from her. Anyway, I came here to
stop the Zentraedi while I thought about where to look next."
"Hang on," I said. "That doesn't explain anything. Well, all right,
it explains _some_ things. But what about all the story stuff? All
the 'chapters' and 'episodes' and breaking the fourth wall? And is
that a cop-out explanation or what? Parallel Earth indeed. Hah!"
Biles finished the lemonade and belched hugely. "'Scuse me. I have
to agree with him."
"Yeah!" went everybody else.
"Oh it's all true," said Tuzi, grinning once more. "But only in the
sense that none of this is true."
"Eh?" I said.
"No-one in this room exists in reality." She pointed at me. "_He_
created all of this. He's writing all this in order to exist.
Somewhere in the future he's making himself real by inventing his
past."
"_What_?!" I said, "What the hell are you talking about? And..." I
looked around. "And what's happened to everyone?" I tapped a now
totally motionless Biles on the nose. It made a CHINK sound, he was
frozen. I couldn't even move his glasses.
"I've stopped the narrative flow for a moment," she said. "Only you
should here this. It's all true."
"I made all this up?"
"Not really. This is fanfiction." She sat down on the edge of the
stage and watched me go around the crowd shaking everybody to make
absolutely sure. "You're not actually that good a writer, so you
could only write your past by borrowing bits out of your favourite
shows. I'm the only original character in this story, so if anyone's
to blame for the cop-out reason for my existence, then it's you."
"But. But but but. Wait a minute. How could I write my past to
exist if I didn't exist to write my past in the first place?" I
frowned. "And does that actually make sense?"
"Which came first, the chicken or the egg?"
"That was _so_ tacky."
"Sorry."
I sat down beside here and opened us each a can of beer. "So I'm
writing myself into existence using characters from my favourite
stories."
"Apart from your teachers, they're real authors and artists." She
accepted the can and slurped. "And Biles, Huang and Lazer are other
fanfic authors. But they're considerably better at it than you are."
"Oh _thanks_. So exactly what am I doing in the future?"
"How would you know that when you're eight? There's been a few vague
references, again all blatantly stolen, but nothing more than that. I
suppose you haven't got around to writing that bit yet."
I checked back over the last six episodes. "That still leaves a fair
few holes, and if I don't spot them, someone else will and tell me
about it. What about the pool of blood outside Professor Nova's house
in part three?"
"Probably just a fox killing some lunch or something," she performed
further slurpings. "But it added to the dramatic atmosphere."
"And the travelling interstitially through the cracks in the
pavement?"
"You thought it'd make a decent way for me to escape from the
professor in part four, but your future self's grudge against Ranma
got the better of you. Which is why it got all derivative."
"Hey, come on, _every_ piece of fanfiction with Ranma in it has been
done before."
"True."
I sighed. "And I suppose all the other loose ends have similarly
trite explanations?" She nodded and I tossed the script aside. "I
don't think I'll bother going through them all then. When did I
create you?"
"A few years ago. I've got my own story, my own manga, but you've
never got around to drawing it."
"Aren't I supposed to be getting around to that at last?"
"Yeah, for MinamiCon in 2001. But I'll believe that when I see it."
"Will they remember any of this?" I indicated our still companions.
"Nope. This might be the end of this part of the story, but we've
still got the many many sequels to come. And events from previous
instalments are _never_ allowed to get in the way of a good sequel."
"More of the same coming up then?"
"Yup. Although hopefully without any of that moralising crap you
tried to inject into it when you were watching the battle on the
cricket field. All your fault indeed. You should know that stuck-up
arrogance is every Englishman's birthright."
"Oh bloody hell, I don't really believe that, do I?"
"Hey, you write this, not me."
"Great." I kicked my heels against the stage. "I suppose I'll forget
all this too? And everyone'll think you're my sister again?"
"Yeah, the story needs it. You'll only remember if your future self
can get a half-decent joke out of it."
"Then there's only one thing to do. Have you got a marker pen on
you?" She fished one out and passed it over. I set my beer down and
walked over to where Ranma was standing. I poised the pen over his
forehead. "I've always wanted to do this..."
Tuzi just grinned.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
And then she woke everyone up, and Priss picked up her guitar and got
on stage and there was some good rockin'. Oh yes indeed.
And as the new knowledge, so recently learned, faded once more from my
memory, I didn't try and hold on to it. Because life isn't about the
beginning or the end, it's about the bits in between. If you read a
book or watch a film simply to find out the finale then you're missing
the point. Why else would you read that book or watch that film more
than once otherwise? It's not _what_ is being told, it's the _way_
that they tell it.
It's the journey that matters.
The destination is bound a disappointment.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
WHAT THE HELL DID *THAT* MEAN?
Lyn *COUGH* is from the fanfic EVA:R by Maher Al-Samkari and Orbit
Productions. Find this shining example of how fanfics _should_ be
written (as opposed to this one) at http://www.eva-r.com. I thank
Maher for letting me use Lyn after I couldn't find an anime character
who stood a chance of knowing the rules of cricket, and hope he's not
too hacked off at the long wait for the 58' illustrations. ;)
I hope no-one's _that_ annoyed at the cop-outness of the ending, or
the numerous loose ends, but I genuinely believe what my character
says in the last paragraph above. Several of my favourite
professional authors make a point of having endings which leave you
saying "Is that it?!" or not having them at all. Hasn't hurt their
sales yet, because they're read for their style, not their plots. I'm
sure anyone who, like me, actually prefers episodes 25 and 26 of NGE
to EoE knows what I mean. Anyway, some of the unresolved plot
threads, like the references to the Third Impact and the Macross, and
the concept of an inside-out Earth are filled out in the next bit. Or
will be.
Anyway, cheers for sticking with this one, and now I know that at
least _some_ people enjoy it, I'll try and do a better job on volume
two...
For the record, here's all the anime and manga I managed to reference
during the past six episodes:
All-Purpose Cultural Catgirl Nuku-Nuku
Akira
Battle Angel Alita
Bubblegum Crisis (original or 2040, take your pick)
Devil Hunter Yoko
Devilman
Dominion Tank Police
El Hazard
Fist of the North Star
Ghost in the Shell
Gunbuster
Gunsmith Cats
Heartbroken Angels
Macross
Metal Angel Marie
Neon Genesis Evangelion
Phantom Quest Corp.
Pokemon (and I didn't expect _that_)
Ranma 1/2
Record of Lodoss War
Sailor Moon
Tenchi Muyo
Urusei Yatsura
Plus the works of Hideaki Anno, Toshio Maeda and Johji Manabe in
general, and John Biles, Andrew Huang, Jim Lazer and Maher Al-Samkari.
We'll see about getting in even more references to appear clever in
the next bit...
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Subi [05/11/00]
subi@gameart.com
http://www.gameart.com/4ca
[end]