I have been getting a large number of people asking ME for chapter 6 of
Bedlam Fire. I do not have Chapter 6 in my possession. I do not know where
YOU could find it. Your best bet is to e-mail the author- see e-mail
address in the line below- and ask HIM. Thank you.
To reply, post publically or e-mail the author at ayonge@yahoo.com
Enjoy!
The FFML Refugee List
The characters of the Ranma 1/2 universe are the
creation and possession of the brilliant Rumiko
Takahashi. They belong to Rumiko Takahashi and her
licensees (Shogakukan Inc., Kitty-Fuji TV, Viz
Communications Inc.) No copyright infringement is
intended.
"The Green Lantern", copyright ALL-AMERICAN COMICS
# 16 (July 1940)
(Note: Green Lantern #16 provided the inspiration for this
story. However only the colour green remains.)
WARNING: This story contains scenes that some readers may
find sexually suggestive and/or violent.
Extended author notes will be added at the end of
of Chapter one and again at the end of the final chapter.
*******************************************************
Bedlam Fire
Chapter 12
*******************************************************
"Time to get up," a strange hand shook her awake.
"you've got to be at the dock in half an hour," the door opened,
then closed again, as Nabiki sat up with a groan.
"What time is it?" She knuckled the sleep out of her
eyes, trying to orient herself in the hut by the light of the
banked fire.
"Oh-dark-thirty," Ukyou said, shrugging into her
jacket, "according to our hostess."
"What does that mean?" Nabiki made a face at the foul
taste in her mouth, wishing for a tooth brush. She picked up a
cup of left-over green tea and rinsed her mouth, spitting into the
night-soil jar in the corner of the room. "I'd kill for a cup
of ----"
"Kasumi said you'd need this." Ukyou handed Nabiki a
steaming cup.
"Oh . . .," Naibki took the cup reverently, a look of
pure bliss on her face. " . . .my . . ." closing her eyes she inhaled
slowly, as if trying to memorize the fragrance.
"Yeah," Ukyou checked the fit of the mini-spatula's in
her bandoleer. "I like a cup of coffee in the morning myself,
sometimes.
"Coffee----" Nabiki was shocked, "This isn't
'coffee'----this is Kopi Luwak!"
"Looks like coffee to me," Ukyou made as if to take the
cup from Nabiki, for a taste. The middle Tendou daughter
whirled, like a starving cat protecting the last mouse on earth
and Ukyou would have sworn she heard a growl come deep
from inside the other girl.
"Hey!" Ukyou jerked back, slightly offended. "It's just
coff----"
"Was Miyamoto _just_ a swordsman!" She took a tiny
sip, savoring the heavy bodied caramel taste with almost
orgasmic pleasure. "Was Sunzi _just_ a general," another sip,
another shudder of pleasure,"would you call Hakuin _just_ a
monk?"
"Ummmm, well if you put it that way. . .I guess . . ."
"Of course you wouldn't," Nabiki answered herself,
savoring the hot thick brew. "Kopi Luwak it the king . . .no . . .
the GOD of coffees. It's grown only on the islands of Sumatra,
Java and Sulawesi," she noticed the level going down in her
mug with sadness, "and is made from beans that have been
eaten by the Paradoxurus."
"Huh?" Ukyou slung her uber-spatula over her
shoulder and shrugged it into position on her back.
"The Paradoxurus," Nabiki explained, as if to an idiot,
"is a small tree-dwelling animal belonging to the Sibet family.
The beans that come through undigested are picked from the
animals excreta, cleaned, roasted and processed. The unique
flavor comes from the effect of the digestive enzymes on the
beans and only about two hundred kilograms a year can be
produced and it costs," Nabiki finished the last of her liquid
treasure with a sigh, looking at the bottom of the mug to make
sure she hadn't missed any, "about 75,000 Yen for a hundred
grams of beans. This is not," she carefully put the mug aside, as
if it were a holy relic, " _just_ a cup of coffee."
"You're gonna' get left behind if you don't hurry,"
Ukyou threw over her shoulder, heading out the door.
"Shit!" Nabiki cursed, hopping after her, trying to run
and pull on her boots at the same time.
*******************************************************
"You're just in time," Kasumi called through the open
hatch as Nabiki came puffing down the torch-lit trail, "we're
just getting settled in. I saved you a window seat." She waved
at her sister, then smiled down at Ukyou who had one foot on
the lowest rung of the boarding ladder.
"What,"Nabiki stood stock still at the edge of the dock,
looking up at the metal monstrosity bobbing gently in the
water, "is _that_!"
"It's an airplane," a stocky black man swung back onto
the dock from where he'd been standing on a massive float.
Switching on a powerful flashlight he shone it at the underside
of a wing, frowning at whatever he saw there.
Nabiki had seen airplanes before. They were sleek and
shiny with powerful jet engines and swept-back wings. _This_
thing looked like it had just crawled out of a Jurassic era tar-
pit, and looked somewhat less aerodynamic than a barn-door
nailed to a locomotive, the whole thing perched somewhat
unsteadily atop a mass of girders bolted to a couple of really
big beer-cans.
"Jets," The black man sneered at Nabiki's muttered
comments, "fly-by-wire computer toys . . .they don't have
pilots, they've got _system_ managers. Hell, pretty soon they
won't even have that much, just a black-box in front and a
stewardess in back to pass out the roasted peanuts." He walked
forward and shone his light into the front of the big radial
engine, then swept the beam along the fuselage.
The powerful light illuminated the picture of a flying
woman, clothed only in flowing brunette locks, painted just
under the side window. Nabiki had only a moment to notice the
woman was bountifully, not to say preposterously, endowed,
and wondered, yet again, at how pathetic men were about their
obsession with women's chests. She was trying to puzzle out
the name, written in flaming-red Romanji, in a semi-circle
above the picture, when a voice called to her.
"Nabiki!" Ukyou had stopped about half-way up to
shift her spatula which had tangled in the swaying ladder, "get
a move on. You need to get strapped in before Ke Lun busts a
gut."
"Tell the _honored_ Elder," the black man stomped up
beside Nabiki, making the dock shiver under his heavy tread,
"to mind her own damn business. This is _my_ airplane
and----"
"She's MY airplane," Nabiki looked over her shoulder
to see a pleasantly plump woman in grease stained overalls
coming from the opposite end of the airplane. "I just let you fly
her, now and then." Or she would have been pleasant if not for
the scowl on her face. To Nabiki she said, "You ought to be
right at home, the fuselage and floats are Japanese."
"They are?" Nabiki said faintly, unable to believe this
_thing_ could have been built back home. Actually it didn't
look like it had been built at all. Nabiki had sudden flash of all
those old radioactive-creature movies, with Mothra, Godzilla
and _this_ metal-monster all locked in mortal combat. "This is
Japanese?"
"Sure," the woman examined something on the wing,
then scribbled rapidly in a small book, which she then tucked in
a hip pocket, "part of an old Showa L2D, built under license to
Douglas back in the '30's." Walking to the edge of the horse-
shoe shaped dock she moved toward the rear of the plane,
shining her light over the float, stopping and kneeling when she
reached the end. "The engines and starboard wing are
American," she reached out and made a pulling motion.
Standing upright, Nabiki could see she held a bright orange pin,
with a large square card, the same day-glow colour, dangling
from it by a wire. "Rudder locking-pin, port and starboard,
pulled," she called to the man, who was now balanced
precariously on the front of the float, shining his light upward.
She made a notation in her book, returning it again to her
pocket.
"Don't forget to unlock the Gust-Protectors, Peng."
"Don't teach your grand-mother to suck eggs, Junior."
"What about the . . .uhhhh . . .other wing," Ukyou
asked curiously, hanging on half-way up the ladder.
"Russian LI-2 that crashed in Siberia," Peng answered,
starting to move forward again.
"And all these pieces just fit together?" Nabiki was
positive she didn't want to fly in something that had been built
from pieces found in a trash heap.
"Sure, no matter what they call 'em, it's still a Goony
Bird," She seemed surprised at the question.
"Ummmm . . .that's nice," Nabiki began edging off the
dock. Goony Bird sounded like something you'd see on
Pokeman, _not_ something a sensible person would trust her
life in.
"It's a C-47 . . .DC-3?" Peng added at Nabiki's blank
look.
"The world's first successful commercial airliner," the
man added. "Best plane ever built. Helped win World War
Two."
"What war?" Ukyou asked, almost at the open hatch.
"World War Two, America, Britain, Russia against
Germany, Italy and Japan."
"Really," Ukyou pulled herself through the opening,
then swung around to look at the dock ten meters below, "who
won?"
At the man's stunned look Nabiki wondered if she
should try to explain some of the eccentricities of the Japanese
educational system. Eccentricities that had enabled her to win
many sucker bets.
Peng was in no doubts about her priorities."Go start
the cockpit check, Junior."
"And where's my co-pilot?"
"Tuckin' the kids back in, all the excitement woke 'em
up." Peng pushed them both toward the boarding ladder,
hanging from the open hatch. "I'll finish the walk-around, you
see if you can remember which end is supposed to go forward."
"Look out for that mountain . . .the wing's on fire . . .
you're in a flat-spin . . .nag, nag, nag," he grumbled. "Never
marry your co-pilot or your flight-engineer," he admonished,
turning abruptly to Nabiki. She nodded dumbly as he stuck out
his hand, "John----" she took it warily, "John Goldstein," he
drew her along to the hanging ladder and steadied it as she
climbed. "Welcome aboard the 'Screaming Mimi'."
*******************************************************
Clambering over a mass of boxes and bags, secured
with heavy canvass webbing, that seemed to fill the corrugated
metal interior, Nabiki managed to find every exposed beam,
bolt and sharp edge, usually with the most sensitive part of her
body, on her way front of the plane.
"What the hell is this stuff," she panted, falling into the
hard metal seat Ukyou pointed out to her.
"Food. Medicine." Ke Lun replied cryptically.
Nabiki stared at the youthful looking 'Elder'.
Youthful? Hell, she looked like a junior-high student in the dim
cabin lights.
"What for?"
"It is needed," Ke Lun dismissed Nabiki and turned
back to Shan Pu.
"OK, that's it," it was hard to be intimidated by
someone who was so kawaii it made her teeth ache. "I'm tired,
I hurt in places I didn't know I had a week ago, my baby-
sister," she looked over at Akane, seemingly asleep in Ranma's
arms, "has been possessed by some Amazon boogy-man and I
haven't had a bath in so long my hair," she grabbed a fist-full
and tugged, "feels like it's _crawling_ along my scalp!" She
surged back out of her seat and loomed over Ke Lun. "Now
just what the HELL is going on? What is all this?" she pointed
toward the rear of the airplane. "Where are we going? WHY----
"
"shanghai . . ."
Everyone jerked at the painful whisper, and Ranma's
arms tightened protectively around the precious bundle in his
arms. Ryouga materialized suddenly beside them, like a guard
dog on a short leash. It would have been comical, if not for the
stark, humorless look in his eyes.
"What about Shanghai?" She knelt on the hard metal
floor, next to her sister.
"The daemon is in Shanghai," Ke Lun answered. "we
are going to kill it. This," she indicated the cargo, "will be
needed for the sick and wounded."
"What makes you think it's in Shanghai?" Ukyou
asked, fascinated in spite of herself.
"We're getting damn-all back from the Met station," a
new voice interrupted and a figure could be seen wiggling and
grunting over boxes and past bales. "There's nothing on the
civilian bands and all the military chatter is encrypted." the
newcomer went on, pushing a duffle bag ahead of it, " No one's
answering the phones either----no idea what the weather or
winds----"the bag hit the deck with a thump, followed by an
olive skinned woman who pushed a thick tangle of hair out of
her face as she dropped to the deck. For the first time she
seemed to notice she had an audience and smiled, a friendly
open expression. "Hi, I'm Mimi. Make yourselves comfortable,
it'll be a few minutes before we're ready to take off."
Nabiki could see that the unknown artist hadn't painted
true-to-life. There wasn't enough airplane.
"I've got no idea about winds-aloft," Mimi continued
talking to John as she walked forward to the flight deck. "We
might be bucking head-winds all the----"
Nabiki crossed her arms self-consciously across her
chest, feeling very much like a twelve year old as she watched
the Amazon move with an unconsciously seductive lilt of her
hips and a motion between collar-bone and navel that looked
like a couple of wild-cats fighting in a burlap-bag. She had a
sudden sympathy for all the times Akane had clobbered Ranma
for calling her flat-chested.
"If it's easier to kill this daemon while it's asleep----,"
Nabiki shook herself back to reality to realize Ukyou was in a
heated argument with Akane. "why did you waste time with Ke
Lun? Why didn't you go after it right away?"
Ryouga did _not_ look happy at Ukyou's questions,
even if they were quite reasonable, and Ranma had an
expression similar to God, just before he did some urban
renewal on Gomorrah.
"It's all my fault," Ryouga confessed miserably. "If I
hadn't brought you that damn statue----"
"It is more my fault than yours," Ke Lun replied in a
defeated voice. "I let it trick me, _use_ me as it's vessel----it's
dupe. I killed, murdered my own, warriors . . .children . . . who
trusted me. And I killed them. Allowed this evil----"
"It's not your fault," Akane interrupted, turning blind
eyes toward Ke Lun. "Not yours either," she reached out and
awkwardly patted Ryouga on the shoulder, where he was
kneeling beside her, head bowed in an agony of self-loathing.
"If I hadn't brought----"
"I let it use me----"
"CLEAR!"
Everyone, except Akane and Ranma, jumped at that
loud command. Nabiki looked behind her to see John looking
out his window, while Mimi did the same on her side of the
plane.
"Props clear," Mimi announced, and John seconded her
observation. "Ready for engine run-up."
Feeling a little foolish for her sudden fright, Nabiki
turned back to see Ukyou re-sheathing her uber-spatula. The
okonomiyaki chef grinned a little sheepishly, then turned to
Akane. "You say the daemon is still out there, that Ke Lun only
had a little part of it----why the hell din'tcha go after the _big_
one_ first_! Before it woke up."
"I couldn't find it," Akane said weakly, moving to sit
up in Ranma's lap. After a brief hesitation, the pigtailed martial
artist moved her to rest in the crook of his arm, ignoring the
slight tightening of Ukyou's eyes at the obvious expression of
his feelings. "I guessed where Ke Lun would go," the Amazon
'Elder' closed her eyes against some internal pain, "but the
other two pieces moved too far too fast, and I was too weak to
find them. I'm stronger now."
Stronger? She looked like a fragment of five-hundred
year old silk cloth Ukyou had seen in a museum----fragile,
faded and intact only by a great will of imagination. She felt a
lot like she was kicking a sick puppy with her questions ( and
Ran-chan's expression said very clearly it was _his_ puppy) but
if she were heading out on a "come-back-with-your-spatula-or-
on-it" mission, she wanted to know up front what was going on.
"Stronger than I was," Ke Lon said, despairingly. "The
evil in me must be very great, for it to have taken me so easily,
so completely." Ukyou was shocked to see tears streaming
down the petal-soft cheeks of the rejuvenated Amazon. "I
killed them. Tortured----"
"I killed----" Akane started.
"Three," Ke Lun held up a hand. "Three only. I saw
into your mind during our . . .during it's battle. I saw and I
remember. You killed three, only. Warriors all, armed with
missile and cannon, and only _after_ they attacked you." Her
shoulders slumped. "I saw it all, from the time the daemon
infected you, each time the . . .the hunger came on you, you
fought it. Refused to kill, when you easily could have."
"I killed . . .and I enjoyed killing," Akane corrected, in
a voice faint as the memory of spring in winter, "it wasn't that I
was stronger . . .or better," she faltered, as if this minor exertion
was exhausting her. " I was just . . .lucky."
Ukyou squirmed a little uncomfortably, as she recalled
her 'fight'. Out of the corner of her eye she could see San Pu
looking down, as if her toes fascinated her.
"The daemon never infected me,"Akane continued
speaking awkwardly, almost as if she were just learning how.
"And it's not your fault," she reassured the despondent Ryouga.
There was a sudden bang, that shook the plane, and
even Akane jumped this time. Only Ranma seemed
unsurprised. Craning her head Nabiki could see the propeller of
the left engine start to turn slowly, a tremendous cloud of black
smoke belching from the exhaust as each cylinder of the big
Wright Cyclone fired in turn. After a few moments the
individual blades vanished into a spinning blur and the cabin
shook from the engines vibrations.
"I'm getting oil pressure,"Mimi shouted above the
noise. "RPM at 900 and rising."
John nodded. "OK, Pilots Engine--- Mixture to Auto-
Rich, Ignition Booster, OFF" he made a check on a pad
strapped to his knee. "Stand by to start Two."
Mimi nodded back and twisted the palm switch to the
right. "Mags, ON! Ignition Booster Switch, ON!"
Wishing for some cotton for her ears Ukyou leaned
forward to hear what Akane and Nabiki were talking about.
"----can see the future?!" Nabiki was asking,
incredulously.
"Not _see_ ,exactly," Akane struggled to find the
words. It doesn't see the way we do. It didn't _know_ Ryouga
was looking for a birthday present," she squeezed the lost-boy's
shoulder comfortingly. "It doesn't have any concept of
birthdays, or presents---- it just . . .felt . . .that Ryouga was
going in the . . .the direction of freedom." She paused,
gathering strength, before continuing. ""It knows the right
place to be, the right time to act, to accomplish its purpose. You
never had a chance."
"You did," Ke Lun said, matter-of-factly. "You fought
the daemon, and won. You don't even have the 'hunger'
anymore."
"I didn't fight it," Akane corrected again. "I was never
really infected by the daemon the way you were--it only gave
me a tiny fraction of it's power . . .,"
Shan Pu grimaced, recalling what had been done to
Tarou, not to mention herself and Mu Si----if that was just a
fraction----
" . . .just enough to get _your_ attention. It wanted you
all along, to get it to Saffron. Or Herb, as a second choice."
"Why go to all that trouble?" Ukyou wanted to know.
"Why do something so complicated, when so much could have
gone wrong?"
"It's from . . .a long way away--a long way . . ." Akane
shivered, recalling the dark, cold void between the stars.
Ranma's arms closed around her and she sank gratefully into
his warm embrace.
"It went to . . .to sleep for the trip. Like a seed, dormant
during the winter. But, after it got here it was too weak to . . .
break free of it's shell. It's been trying for almost two thousand
years to wake up. It needed a strong host body, strong enough
to hold the power it needed to free itself." She laughed, a little
self- mockingly. "I'm a martial artist, but that much power
would have blown me apart like a stick of dynamite in a rotten
apple." Ranma's arms tightened convulsively around her, and
she patted his arm. "I wasn't even strong enough for it to
control directly, it would have burned out my mind. That's why
it needed you," she turned unerringly, if blindly, toward the
young-old Amazon. "You were strong enough to for it to put a
real piece of itself inside your body.."
"But _you_ broke free of it," Ke Lun repeated,
unwilling to forgive herself for the horrors she'd perpetrated.
"Imagine a ten-meter tall giant," Akane explained,
"that had you by the throat with both hands. Me," she smiled
wryly, "it wrapped the thread of a single hair around my neck
and pulled me along, gently. If it had used it's real strength on
me, I would have crumpled like an empty soda can."
"But you were strong enough to beat Ke Lun----the
thing that possessed Ke Lun," Ukyou corrected hastily, at Shan
Pu's dirty look.
Another bang made them jump, not as far this time, and
a black cloud enveloped the right wing.
"Oil pressure light, OFF --on engine One, oil pressure
coming up on Two." Mimi announced and John made a
notation on his knee-pad. "Oil temperature, four-zero Celsius
on One, oil temperature coming up on Two."
"Generators?"
"Cut in at 1300 RPM," Mimi tapped a gauge on the
panel in front of her. "Amp in the green."
"Hydraulic pressure?"
"Steady," Mimi looked carefully at another gauge.
"Check Magnetos, then stand by for Engine Burnout."
Nabiki could feel her fillings begin to loosen as the
engines increased in power. This was going to be a _long_ trip.
"So, how _did_ you beat Ke Lun," she asked, as much
for curiosity as to take her mind off the fact she was trapped in
the bowels of a sheet-metal mix-master.
"I didn't 'beat' Ke Lun. The piece that controlled her,
never allowed her any freedom," Shan Pu watched worriedly as
Ke Lun's jaw tightened in memory of being so utterly
controlled she killed her own Amazons, killed them and
enjoyed the killing. "so she never really added any of her skills
to it. But the piece that controlled her was too small to really do
any thinking on it's own. It was kind of like a machine----like a
bull-dozer, strong but stupid. If Ke Lun had been doing the
thinking," she smiled at the 'ancient' Amazon, "I would be a
little greasy spot on the ground right now."
"Cast off forward!" John called out the side window,
"Cast off aft!"
"Then, how did you overcome the daemon that
possessed you?" Inquiring minds, especially those that had
almost had their souls and bone-marrow sucked dry, wanted to
know. Just in case there was a chance it might happen again.
"All hatches closed, passengers secure,"Peng called,
casting a glance at the Nerima crew as she made her way to her
jump-seat, just behind the co-pilot.
It never 'possessed' me, not really." Akane answered
Nabiki, who noted, a little nervously, that she didn't have the
least bit of trouble hearing Akane clearly over the roar of the
elderly radial engines. "I had only a tiny, tiny piece of it. It was
never very strong to begin with----"
If the piece that had Akane wasn't very strong, Ukyou
didn't ever want to see something that was. With a chill she
suddenly realized they were all on their way to _look_ for the
papa daemon.
"----when Ke Lun took the statue, my piece couldn't
gain strength from it any more. It was compelled to try to join
itself back to the whole." Akane's mouth turned down in a
frown as memory came flooding back. "But because it was so
small, it tired easily. And each time it weakened, I got a little
stronger, a little more in control."
"Strong enough to beat the daemon, now that it's
awake?" Ukyou asked doubtfully.
"Not a chance," Akane answered, matter of factly,
leaning back in Ranma's arms with a sigh as the big plane
surged across the surface of the lake, "Not a chance in the
world."
*******************************************************
Shuddering like an off-balance washing-machine the
DC-3 plowed through darkening skies. Eight hours into the
flight, with a good tail-wind for most of the trip, had brought
them within a hundred kilometers of Shanghai, but the noon-
day sky was black with dense oily clouds and the radios hissed
like an angry snake.
Ukyou felt like a pea rattling around in a tin can when
the plane's radical movements finally shook her out of her
exhausted sleep. Looking around she could see Shan Pu and
Mu Si both asleep with Ke Lun seated beside them, awake but
staring blankly at something only she could see. Nabiki and
Kasumi were against the opposite bulkhead, the former dead to
the world, the latter making neat stitches in a square of ivory
coloured cloth. The eldest Tendou looked up, smiled briefly at
the okonomiyaki chef, then went back to her needlepoint.
Ukyou shook her head, constitutionally unable to understand
Kasumi's perpetual calm, then continued her search of the
small living space, looking for----
Ranma.
Almost lost in the shadows he was wide awake,
seemingly frozen in the same position he'd been in at take off,
cradling Akane as tenderly as a mother would an only child or
a man would hold the woman he lo----Ukyou chopped off that
unpalatable thought and searched the shadows for the last
member of their party, and found him. A brooding figure,
darker than the shadows that almost hid him, watching Akane
like a faithful hound.
"Would you like to freshen up, Kuonji-sama?"
Oh yeah . . .Konatsu. She turned to the forgotten ninja,
to find him holding out a steaming towel to wash her hands and
face.
"How . . ." she closed her mouth with a snap, deciding
she didn't really want to know. Taking it with a nod of thanks
she quickly wiped her hands and face, finding she felt much
better, if a little stiff from her hours in an unpadded metal chair.
The plane jerked again and she unbuckled her belt, moving
cautiously to a window just in front of the wing.
Smoke, black and oily, so thick the tips of the wings
were invisible swirled and roiled past the window. Light
flashed, like a cosmic strobe, from breaks in the cloud, the
contrast making the black smoke seem even deeper and more
dismal. The floor fell out from under her as the DC-3 suddenly
dropped like a stone. A sudden zoom climb, as a thermal drove
the plane skyward at a thousand feet per minute, would have
thrown her to the deck with bone breaking force if a strong arm
hadn't pulled her to safety. A warm feeling filled her at this
sign of his care and she turned to thank him, a million-watt
smile on her face.
"You must take care Kuonji-sama."
"Konatsu," *damn. wrong one*, her smile dropped to
the ten-watt-bulb level, the energy-saver kind. "thank you."
"It was my pleasure, Kuonji-sama," the ninja hugged
her tiny smile to himself, in that secret place he stored other
evidence of her caring. Like the time she told him to take an
umbrella when she sent him out in a typhoon to buy more
noodles.
Pushing aside her disappointment Ukyou turned back to
the window, looking down--into a Stygian abyss. Blackness
born of nightmare and made flesh by flame roiled and danced,
pierced here and there by dragon's teeth of red and orange fire.
Blasts of heated air opened holes in the thick raven cloud,
revealing a twisted, blasted landscape of rubble, crawling with
maggots of flame, greedily eating away at whatever remained
to burn. Entire blocks of apartment buildings lay crushed and
tumbled on their sides while scores of trucks and cars lay
scattered around the ruins; like toys abandoned by a petulant
child.
"Oh god . . ." Ukyou jerked back from the window,
face ashen. "what----" her mind went blank, unable to
comprehend what she was seeing.
"I think you should take your seat, Kuonji-sama,"
Konatsu took her arm and lead her back to her seat and closed
the seat-belt around her waist with a click.
"Any contact with the ground?" John Goldstein
wrestled with the control yoke, no power assisted controls, just
brute strength and an understanding of flight and his aircraft
that came from twenty thousand hours in the air.
"Nothing," Peng pressed the headset against her ear,
straining to hear something--anything. "still squawking 7600."
The international transponder signal that indicated 'no radio
communication'.
"OK, this is a no-go. I don't know what happened, but
we can't land in this shit without radio--assuming there's
anyplace left _to_ land." Without taking his eyes off his flight
instruments he ordered Peng to plot a course to the nearest
alternate field--away from Shanghai.
"Fires look worse to the north and west, so lets----"
"We must land in Shanghai!"
He hadn't heard Ke Lun come up behind him. Not
surprising, considering the noise level. But how had _she_
heard him? Probably another one of those "Three thousand
years of Amazon History" things she was always going on
about.
"I can't do an instrument landing without radio," he
pointed out reasonably. He tapped a bright yellow box in the
center of the console. "The GPS went out about an hour ago,
something's blocking the signal, so I can't even find the
airport," he jerked a thumb out the window, "Assuming there
_is_ an airport, 'cause it sure as hell doesn't look like there's
much of Shanghai left."
"You must----"
Whatever Ke Lun was going to say was lost as
"Screaming Mimi" lurched suddenly and the steady thrum of
the engines took on a strained note.
"Engine temp is rising, Junior."
"How bad?" His voice was steady but his knuckles
whitened on the yoke.
"Looks like the air filters are getting clogged. We're
losing power. I think we've got a real problem, Captain"
Peng only called him "Captain" when they were neck
deep in fecal matter and sinking fast.
"I'm declaring an emergency," he reached down and
switched the transponder to 7700, an electronic shout for help,
visible on every radar screen within fifty kilometers. "Ke Lun,
go get strapped in. Mimi, I want you on the throttles, keep an
eye out for a place to set down as soon as we clear----"
"NO!" Ke Lun made as if to grab the control yoke, "we
must land in Shanghai."
"Dammit, Ke Lun," the Amazons in the flight crew
paled a little as hearing the Elder addressed so, "I believed you
when you said the fate of The People and the world depended
on getting to Shanghai, so I took a chance, despite no radio and
a sky full of this shit----Peng, get out a Mayday on the guard
frequency---- I can put this bird down on water or I
can put her down on dirt. I can't land in a blast furnace!
And that's all I see down there."
A sudden bang shook the plane, which veered violently
to the left.
"Fire in number one!" Mimi called, chopping the left
throttle and going to full power on the opposite engine, as her
husband worked the rudder and ailerons to bring the plane back
to level flight.
"Feather number one--Ke Lun, get back in your
dammed seat." John was wondering if he'd killed his wives and
orphaned his children by not turning back sooner.
"Number one won't feather," Peng looked at her
engineering board, then reached between the pilots and punched
the feather button again. "looks like we've blown a couple of
cylinders. We're losing oil, fast." With the oil gone, the
hydraulic system would no longer work to turn the big
propellers knife edge to the wind.
"We're going down," at a thousand feet a minute with
the unfeathered left engine acting as an anchor. "get everyone
strapped in," he called over his shoulder at Ke Lun. "Have you
got me a place to land?" This to Peng. An edge of desperation
was in his voice. Even at METO the laboring left-engine gave
them no more than ten more minutes of flight. The throttle had
one more advance beyond Maximum-Except-Take-Off, but
Take-Off power could be maintained for no more than one
minute before the big Wright Cyclone ate itself.
"The river is thirty kilometers that way," Ke Lun
leaned over John's shoulder, pointing into the black cloud of
smoke.
"Would you sit the hell----"
"Thirty kilometers. That way," she insisted, with
absolute confidence.
"Three thousand years of Amazon history?" John
grunted, nursing the crippled plane onto a new heading. Blind
as he was, any direction was a good one.
"Almost three hundred flights in planes just like this,"
Ke Lun replied, "smuggling supplies past the Japanese, while
your mother was still in grade school." she patted John on the
shoulder and headed back to her seat.
"Mimi, call out the altitude. Five hundred foot
intervals. Peng, find me that dammed river."
"Do you want wheels down, if I find a road?"
"Hell no. If we've can't find the river, I'd rather make
a wheels-up and let the floats take the impact. If we snagged a
wheel on something----" they were experienced flyers. It
didn't take much imagination to see the big plane come apart
in flaming metal as it cartwheeled down a debris strewn road
or runway.
"What's goin' on?" Ukyou was already pulling her belt
tight, Konatsu was double checking it automatically.
"Nine thousand five hundred," Mimi adjusted the
throttles. "Pulling forty seven inches manifold pressure."
"We are making an unscheduled stop," Ke Lun calmly
pulled her seat-belt tight across her hips, watching to see that
Shan Pu followed suit. Ranma undid his belt, then pulled it
around both Akane and himself, cinching it tight.
Very deliberately Ryouga moved from his seat, swung
around in front of Ranma and braced his hands on either side of
Akane, his fingers digging into the stressed-steel of the chair's
arm-rests. With some interest Ke Lun noted the deepening of
his aura along the strength meridians and wondered where
Ryouga had learned the 'Iron Muscle' technique. Unless the
DC-3 dove nose first into the ground, Akane at least, was going
to survive.
"Akane," Nabiki's voice was a hoarse whisper, just shy
of panic, "Akane . . .can't you do something?"
"No," Ranma spoke for the first time, his concentration
never wavering from the girl in his arms. "she is still fighting
the dameon-part she took from Ke Lun. She doesn't have any
strength to spare."
Ke Lun's eyes narrowed. The tone, the inflection, were
Ranma--and something else.
"She had enough strength to spare when she wanted to
bounce me off the ceiling," Nabiki muttered, white faced, as
she pulled her belt tight.
"Mother would be very proud of you," Kasumi said,
taking one ice-cold hand in hers, "father as well."
"What . . ." Nabiki clenched her jaw tight to keep her
teeth from chattering.
"You were very brave, standing up to all those very
unpleasant people."
"I . . .I was, wasn't I." A little colour came back into
her cheeks.
"But where _did_ you learn that language?" A tiny
frown creased Kasumi's brow. "I'm going to have to speak to
your principle when we get back home."
"Seven thousand feet, Mixture at Emergency Rich,
props --2700 RPM." Mimi announced. "Cylinder head
temperature--we've red lined."
Shit. Cursing softly John Goldstein, Lieutenant
Commander USN (ret) and, for the past eighteen years
husband, father and proper (sometimes) Amazon male, peered
through the dense shifting smoke, looking for a place to land
his elderly, amphibious, bastardized DC-3--a field, a lake--a
damp spot in the road. If he could only _see_!
A faint scarlet mist slowly formed across the windows,
and at first Mimi was afraid they were on fire again. Then,
suddenly----
"I can _see_!" Not well, not clearly. But infinitely
better than before. Swinging his head back and forth he looked
for----
"The river," Peng leaned forward, between the two
pilots. "There it is!"
"Three thousand feet."
They were running out of air. "Full power," he called
and Mimi shoved the throttle against the stops, pulling back the
prop pitch control and the big three bladed propeller bit into the
air with a deep throated roar. The crippled plane surged
slightly, it's fall slowing.
"One thousand five hundred feet, turn left on my
mark . . . Mark."
Fighting the torque of his unbalanced engine, John
horsed the big plane around on it's new heading. He could see
the river, a dark shadow in the scarlet mist that crawled across
the glass, a cold snake-like line against the hotter surrounding
land.
"Are we heading into the wind?"
"How the hell should I know," he barked at Peng. "We
sure as hell can't go around again." But, over loaded as he was,
and crippled, landing with-the-wind, or cross-wind could be
fatal.
"We're going in hot," he hammered on the throttle
quadrant, hoping for just a little more power, "pull my belt
tight."
Peng pulled his harness tight, then repeated the action
for Mimi. "Head down, belts tight," she called back to their
passengers. "the captain will call 'brace' just before we hit.
After we're down, I'll pop the hatch."
"One thousand feet, one hundred ten knots."
"At one hundred knots I want twenty degrees of flap."
"Roger, twenty degrees of flap at one hundred knots."
She pulled back on the power and the big plane
shuddered fighting to turn into the dead engine and fall off into
a lethal stall.
"POWER! POWER!" Mimi slammed the throttle
forward as John pushed the nose down and kicked hard right
rudder, correcting the side slip with ailerons. The water was
rushing up at them--five hundred feet and he went cold as he
saw the trash that littered the water. Half sunken boats, twisted
and splintered buildings--a broken bus, bobbing up and down
like a bizarre fishing float. At least he wouldn't have trouble
guessing altitude above water.
"Five hundred feet . . .three hundred feet . . .one
hundred----"
"BRACE! BRACE! BRACE!"
At the same time he hauled back on the yoke, the plane
shuddered on the verge of a stall and he called for flaps. The
big panels extended from the trailing edge; increasing wing
surface and lift but he change in forces tried to pull the plane
into the dead engine again. He braced his feet on the panel,
brute-forcing the yoke, while Mimi worked the peddles, trying
to keep the plane headed down an imaginary center line he'd
picked on the river. An instant later they slammed into the
water at one hundred knots--and bounced, like a softball thrown
on concrete. John wrestled with the flight controls as they
slammed back into the water. If they slid broadside at this
speed, the torsion could flip the plane. At the same time Mimi's
hand darted out to cut the fuel and master switches--just as the
spinning right prop slammed into a chunk of floating trash.
With a bang the prop and gear housing disintegrated, shedding
parts like a long-haired dog in summer. A three foot section of
prop ripped through the bulkhead, just aft of the emergency
hatch, passing between Nabiki and Ukyou on it's way out the
opposite side of the aircraft.
"FIRE! Fire in number two!" Peng hit the fire bottle as
flames roared along the wing, fed by fuel from the shattered
engine.
"PENG! Get the hatch open. Abandon ship, Abandon
ship!"
His senior wife leapt for the emergency hatch and
slammed the quick release, dropping it free of the fuselage.
"JUNIOR!" Peng braced herself in the open hatch,
"Look port--there's a place to beach her!"
Without waiting to check, he swung the big plane hard
left, feeling the plane skid in the turn. She was settling hard to
starboard, there was already a noticeable list toward the
burning engine. Dammit, they'd ruptured the float.
"Stand by, we're gonna hit----
At forty knots the starboard float, already submerged,
hit first, spinning the big plane like a toy. The force of the blow
drove the tail low, into the water, ripping off the starboard tail-
plane and, coincidentally, blowing out the fire in a tremendous
spray of water.
"----hard." Dazedly he pushed away from the yoke,
gingerly feeling to see if his head were still attached. "Mi . . .
Mimi? You . . . OK?" He turned his head, already throwing off
his harness, to see his wife and co-pilot shrugging free of her
harness. "Peng? You OK back there?" Silence was his answer
and in sudden fright he surged from his seat to see an empty
hatch where she had been standing.
"PENG!" he stumbled to the hatch, bracing against the
tilt of the deck, Mimi at his side. "Peng! Dammit Peng----"
"Goddammit Junior!" A familiar grizzled head bobbed
up and down in the water, splashing for shore in a determined
dog-paddle. "You broke my airplane!"
*******************************************************
END Chapter 12
notes:
New HD in (# 3 from Western Digital)
Will try to install tonight or tomorrow, depending
on Tech. Service from WD. (Not taking
any chances this time, though they say
it's the HD's, not me.)
{Well, let's try this again. The first try gave
me nothing but error messages. If this doesn't work
I'll just wait until I've got the new HD installed and
everything up and working}
Assuming nothing else goes wrong I'll
try to get started revising Sukeban 8 and
work on some other projects (Tyger, Tyger,
I'm a Guy, With Friends Like These . . ., and some
new ones.)
Thank you for all your patience, thanks
for reading and commenting on BF and
thanks for understanding when your e-mail
was not answered in a timely fashion, or at all.
Oh, and thanks for understanding when
my C&C was VERY late. ^_*
Chapter 13 & epilogue
next. (Once I finish typing it.)
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Sir Desaix, member # 116 of the Knights of the True Fiancee
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