Ah My Goddess Fan Fiction / Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction / Sailor Moon Fan Fiction ❯ Pangea ❯ Best Served Cold ( Chapter 9 )

A Tale of Two Wallets

 

(An Altered Destiny)

 

Pangea

 

(The Land That Time Forgot)

 

Written by Jim Robert Bader

 

Proofread by Shiva Barnwell

 

 

“<Well?>” the captain asked of his Chief of Engineering, “<Can you fix it or not?>”

 

“<Fix it?>” Fan Tran Phong responded with an incredulous look across his broadly rounded features, “<Captain…we're lucky to have survived the crash without losing the whole gondola. One of the gas-bags has a hole in its size the size of a small house, and we don't have enough silk to stitch it back together. We need to replace five of the cables and we lost one of the propellers over that last ridge we crossed coming down. We're lucky that the keel didn't crack when we skidded to a halt here, and I don't even want to think about the repairs we'll need to do to the engine.>”

 

“<So can you fix it or not?>” the Captain asked impatiently, “<Prince Kirin will want us to return his property, and I, for one, do not relish the thought of having to explain how we got blown this far off course, let alone lost part of our crew and nearly all of his Majesty's guests in one catastrophic fiasco! For that matter, can you visualize explaining how we lost Mistress Mon-Mon during this disaster?>”

 

Fan cringed at the thought of having to face Prince Kirin under these circumstances, but he was professional enough to insist on what he knew to be the objectively correct situation, “<But sir…we lack the materials in our stores to complete such repairs as we must effect, nor do we have the facilities to manufacture what we require. We would have to make contact with a second hand parts depot, and somehow I doubt that we will find one on this primitive island. For that matter, how will we obtain the hydrogen or helium that it will take to reinflate the gas bags so that we might become airborne once again.>”

 

“<I'm not interested in excuses, Fan,>” the Captain insisted, “<The Prince will expect results. Make what repairs you can and then we'll see about obtaining whatever you require…AFTER we have retrieved the remains of our guests and whatever survivors may have endured our rude landing. Have the men divide into two groups, one to form a searching party, the others to work on the detail crews under your supervision.>”

 

“<But sir…>” Fan halted short of saying that he could not change the laws of physics as he caught the resolute stare of his commanding officer and so instead swallowed both his pride and his objections to dutifully reply, “<It will be as you command.>”

 

“<Good man,>” the Captain turned away and fixed his piercing stare at the next nearest man who stood within his immediate radius, “<Yes?>”

 

“<Sir, we're ready to conduct the search as you requested,>” First Mate Yada-Yada reported while saluting, “<Just give the word and we'll begin combing the woods as you instructed.>”

 

“<Good man,>” the Captain clapped his giant right-hand man on the shoulder, “<Then get to it and don't spare the manpower. I know that there are monsters and creatures lurking under every leaf and branch of this accursed island, but you and the men will have to ask yourselves if you would rather face a gruesome death from claw or fang…or tender your apologies to Prince Kirin.>”

 

Yada-Yada, an enormous mountain of muscle and flesh, shivered audibly under the weight of this threat, but then he pointed a beefy hand at a distant hill and said, “<You mean…like that beastie over there, Sir?>”

 

“<Eh?>” the Captain and all other heads turned as one to catch sight of an imposing shape that they viewed cresting the hill over two kilometers away, a head that all but dwarfed the mountains and was accompanied by a low rumble of thunder as the creature—forty stories tall if he was an inch—went on his way making a distinctive sound that chilled the marrow and made one very glad that he was heading off in a different direction.

 

“<Now that's big,>” Fan spoke up, hunching his shoulders down nervously like a small monkey seeking to escape the notice of a Bengal tiger.

 

“<Ah…well…quite,>” the Captain remarked, trying not to sound as impressed as he obviously was, “<But…buck up, men. He's an island dwelling beastie and we're from the mainland. He might drop by to pay his respect to Tokyo ever now and again, but I'm sure he bears no grudge against us…>”

 

“<Should we write that on our tombstones after he's stomped us flat?>” Fan asked at the level of a low murmur.

 

Yada-Yada scratched behind one cauliflower ear and said, “<Boys saw a big worm headed off the other way a while ago…huge sucker, larger than a hill, but there was also supposed to be a pair of tiny dancing girls singing tunes while riding on his back, so it might just be the lads broke into the wine stores that you keeps for special occasions, Sir.>”

 

“<I see,>” the Captain turned back to Fan and said, “<Tell me why again we don't store adequate supplies to get us airborne?>”

 

“<No room for it, Sir,>” Fan shrugged, “<We'd have to carry fewer jars of pickles to make ballast.>”

 

“<Oh,>” that seemed to finish the matter as far as the Captain was concerned. Losing an airship full of VIPs and Priestess Mon-Mon was certainly bad news by any account, but to lose the sacred Pickle Jars would be a serious breach of courtly etiquette, and he had no intentions of starting out life as a lowly cabin boy again to work off his debt paying back his royal highness.

 

“<We'll get started right away hunting for survivors,>” Yada-Yada began to say, only to halt in the act of turning around, freezing to the spot for several seconds. Then he slowly turned back to the captain and said, “On the other hand…Sir? Looks like we're having company…”

 

“<Eh?>” the Captain whirled about in time to see a group of black-clad heavily armed men approaching rapidly with automatic weapons at the ready. To the dismay of both him and his crew these men expertly surrounded and herded the Nekonron shipmates back towards the center of the landing zone, discouraging those few who attempted to make a fight of it by clobbering them with well-timed martial arts maneuvers.

 

Not a shot was fired and everyone decided they wanted to keep it that way after the first half-hearted encounters, and within seconds the Captain found the snug-nosed silencer end of a compact auto-rifle had been shoved up near his face and a man wearing a face mask glaring him into submission.

 

“<What do you want?>” the Captain said, only to get a “SHHH!” hissed back at him before the man holding the gun whispered softly into a throat mike.

 

“[Condor One in position, we have the package, no casualties so far. Send retrieval teams ASAP.]”

 

“I beg your pardon?” the Captain asked, wondering if this fellow were speaking some gibberish tongue that sounded vaguely like English.

 

“<I said keep it down,>” the man switched to Mandarin, “<You make enough noise to bring old Gojira down on our heads. Do what I say and we'll both live to share a drink about it.>”

 

The utter reasonableness of the man's tone belied the threat implied by his no-nonsense demeanor as he made rapid hand-signs to his people, and at once several armed men fanned out to assume the status of a periphery guard while other men set about disarming the Nekonron ship mates of any and all weapons. Yada-Yada flexed his arms and glanced inquiringly at his captain, but his commanding officer decided not to rush into things without possessing more information, so he signaled back that they would cooperate with these commandos…at least until they were given reason not to.

 

Fan the Engineer, on the other hand, was far less resolute as he asked of the mysterious gunman, “<What are you going to do with us?>”

 

“<No harm will be to either you or the crew,>” the masked man calmly assured them, “We are here to rescue you and transport your ship to safety…>”

 

“<Transport my ship?>” the Captain responded, “<To where?>”

 

In answer to that query a huge black shape fell over the clearing and caused heads to rotate upwards as mouths hung open and looks of astonishment came over the faces of the Nekonron shipmates. The Captain himself was struck speechless by the sight and his officers were no less stunned at the size of the thing that was hovering over the treetops, easily larger than their airship when inflated and yet moving so silently that one could almost take it for an oddly metallic black cloud drifting past. A hatch slid open underneath the belly of the curiously cigar-shaped ship, and then the leader of the gunmen seemed to smile behind his mask as he nodded to the Captain and indicated the cavernous hold looming directly over their heads.

 

“<That's where for now,>” he said, “<We'll talk about the rest later, after I take you to see our leader.>”

 

“<That…sounds reasonable enough,>” the Captain said after he swallowed the lump forming in her throat, “<Do lead on, I'd be quite anxious to meet this leader of yours…if he is a reasonable chap.>”

 

“<As reasonable as they come,>” the masked commando answered, then signaled to his men to wind it up and get the Nekonron people loaded up on the transport…

 

 

“[I say,]” T'shalkri turned to Zhandor, “{Do you hear that?]”

 

The Raptor so indicated inclined his head to one side then said, “[Sounds like they've deployed the Invincible. The Admiral must be recovering that airship.]”

 

“[Admiral?]” Ryoga asked as he paused to glance at his Velari companions.

 

“We've mentioned him before,” T'shalkri said as he reverted back to Japanese, a language he along was fluent in among the Raptors, “Must be paying his respects to our island. Ah well, then perhaps you'll get to meet him after all. Splendid chap, as fine as they come among humans.”

 

“[Yes,]” Zhandor said while sounding worried as he glanced off in the distance, “[But that sound is coming from the Monster zone. Can't go there, old bean, just wouldn't be cricket.]”

 

“[Why?]” Minako asked, “[Is it more dangerous there than here?]”

 

“[Depends on how you look at it, Miss,]” the Raptor named Dhanold replied, “[In a way it is, since the boys on that side of the fence tend to come in the large economy size, if you know what I mean. They'd regard a T-Rex about the same way you might look down on a rat, and let's not even go there on what they think about Raptors.]”

 

“Uh…what's all this about again?” Usagi asked as she scratched behind her odangos.

 

“Probably something you can't figure out for yourself Riceball head,” Rei affectionately teased.

 

“Really, Usagi-chan,” Ami sighed, “I don't know how many times I've tried to coach you to put more effort on studying English.” She then turned to T'shalkri and said, “[If the island is divided into three parts as you imply, then it begs the question of what could be behind such a phenomenon, and who might have created these barriers…assuming that they are not natural to begin with.]”

 

“[Indeed,]” T'shalkri gave the human an appraising look and seemed to weigh her words with speculation, “[We do have a theory on that, but mind you, it is largely based on hearsay and conjecture.]”

 

“[Understood,]” Ami replied, “[But I should like to hear it nonetheless.]”

 

“[Jolly good,]” the Raptor Leader nodded, “[Well…the theory that I've tended to favor is that this island may be a long-lost remnant of an earlier advanced culture, one that mastered a science that borderlines magic and which enabled them to create Pangea Island as a sort of recreational park-slash-outdoor laboratory-slash-wildlife reserve. This antediluvian civilization wished to study my ancestors, as well as other ancient reptilian and mammalian life forms, and so partitioned the island off into two time zones while reserving the third for experimental field work and genetic recombination.]”

 

“Experimental field work?” Ami gasped while reverting back to her native language.

 

“Yes,” T'shalkri said as he, too, shifted back to Japanese, “A laboratory, of sorts, for the breeding of unusual and exotic forms of life quite unlike anything what has ever even existed upon this planet. How else do you account for creatures whose very existence violates many known principles of evolution and anatomical construction? Perhaps it was an ancient weapons program that got somewhat out of control, but the results are such specimens as have plagued your homeland quite frequently in times most recent. Perhaps you know them by such names as Rodan, Mothra, Ghidora and…”

 

“Gojira?” Ami gasped, drawing the analogy to its obvious conclusion.

 

“Exactly,” T'shalkri nodded his massive head, “Mind you this is only a theory, but clearly some intelligent beings set aside this island as a giant preserve for reasons that we can only speculate about. In a way that is good since without special intervention I dare say that we Velari would no longer exist to be having this conversation.”

 

“Swell,” Ukyo spoke up, “So…where are you guys leading us again?”

 

“To the border separating our frame from that of the Mammalian zone,” T'shalkri answered, “I'm afraid that we cannot cross into there, but you should be able to locate at least three of your absent friends, who we fear the worst for. The Trogs, don't you know…they're rather beastly to outsiders.”

 

“These…uh…Trogs,” Makoto remarked, “You say they're a mixed tribe of Neanderthals and movie set people?”

 

“Sound almost like some of your relatives, Rei-chan,” Usagi teased sweetly.

 

“Don't insult the Neanderthals,” Rei huffed, “It's disrespectful.”

 

“But according to you, these Trogs do terrible things, especially to young women,” Ami pointed out.

 

“Too true,” T'shalkri said sadly, “Mind you, we have only heard secondhand reports of what goes on in that frame, but what we have learned is rather potty, and we would caution you to proceed with great trepidation into their domain since many a fine young specimen of the female half of your species has gone before you without ever returning.”

 

In the back rows Ryoga thought he overheard one Raptor murmuring to another, “[Crickey, there the Chief goes again, sucking up to yet another tasty human female.]”

 

“[Steady on, Mate,]” the other Raptor murmured back, “[You know the chief's policies about backsliding. Human females are strictly off the menu.]”

 

“[I know,]” the first Raptor sighed, “[But if you ask me it's rather disrespectful to our own females to have our chief chasing human tail with such shameless enthusiasm.]”

 

“[No doubt the chief will insist he's only interested in her mind,]” the second Raptor noted, “[All three pounds of it, but to be fair, she does seem to be a rather unusually intelligent example of her species.]”

 

“So, if we go there we'll be looking for a fight, right?” Akane said, glancing at Ukyo and smiling, “Then what are we waiting for? If my sister went in there with Shampoo and Ranma, then we'd better go help them.”

 

“Before Ranchan hogs all the fun to himself, right?” Ukyo smiled, “I'm game if you guys are.” He made a point of glancing at Makoto and her fellow Senshi before giving a firm nod towards Akane.

 

“[You really are going to go through with it, eh?]” Dhanold asked of Minako, “[Even knowing what the risks are, that you might not ever return?]”

 

“[It's what we do best,]” Minako smiled back, “[Fighting the good fight is what we live for.]”

 

“Well, my claws up for you, pip-pip and tally ho and all that,” T'shalkri made what on a human would have been a raised thumb sign, then pointed towards the trail ahead, “The way into Trog land is just down that path a ways and around that bend, and keep an eye out for sabertooth tigers and other predators of that like. If you change your mind or should, by some favor of the heavens, return hale and hearty then you'll have a royal good welcome from us to celebrate your triumph.”

 

“Thanks,” Akane said, “Let's go, guys, we got a lot of time to make up for.”

 

“Right,” Ukyo said, only to pause as he sniffed the breeze, “Hey, does that smell familiar to any of you?”

 

“[Oh bloody hell,]” Zhandor sighed, “[Here we go again…]”

 

“Smells like flowers,” Usagi blinked, “Hey, wasn't this the same stuff we smelled back in that field a while ago, Rei?”

 

“It does smell familiar,” Rei sniffed the air again, “Kind of like lilacs…”

 

“Actually, what you are detecting is the pollen spore essence of the wild lotus known as Africanus Gigantus Erodatum,” T'shalkri explained, “I forgot to mention to you before that it blooms abundantly this time of year and has a curious effect upon mammalian constitutions. It triggers a sort of mating instinct in your kind that tends to lower inhibitions and relaxes social consciousness to the point where a human is driven into a kid of sexual frenzy. Terribly sorry about this, forgot there is a whole field of the blighted crop growing just on the other side of that ridge.”

 

Again Ryoga thought he heard two of the Raptors murmuring in the back row, “[You think the chief might have deliberately steered us this way because he knows that dratted flower is in bloom this time of year?]”

 

“[Even I wouldn't put it past him,]” the other Raptor sighed in evident resignation.

 

“Well, that's all fine and dandy,” Ryoga shrugged, “But we're here to save our friends, not stop and sniff the flowers…”

 

He started to take a step forward down the trail only to feel a hand grip him by the arm and draw him back into the waiting arms of Minako.

 

“What's your hurry, Ryo-chan?” she cooed, bringing her face to within inches of his, startling Ryoga to no end as he caught the wild hint of passionate lust in her comely expression, “Don't you want to wait around a while with me and sniff more lotus blossoms?”

 

“Hey!” Makoto protested, “Let go of her, you! Who the heck do you think you are playing with my girlfriend?”

 

Ukyo arched and eyebrow at her, “Your girlfriend…Sugar?”

 

“Ah…” Makoto blinked, “Did I just say that?”

 

All at once Ukyo felt a pair of arms latch onto his and he turned to find a smiling Akane leaning close against his body with her breath tickling his cheek as she softly purred, “Forget about that tramp, Ucchan…you've got me to look after you, not that overgrown gorilla.”

 

“What did you just call me?” Makoto bridled.

 

“Please,” Ami pleaded, “Everyone calm down! This is obviously the effect of those spores that T'shalkri mentioned just now. Take a minute and we must move from downwind of these plants so that we can concentrate on…” she suddenly yelped as Usagi leaned over and pinched Ami on the bottom.

 

“You talk too much, Ami-chan,” Usagi cooed as she snuggled up close beside her fellow Senshi.

 

“But we can do something like that, just like we did with you before,” Rei gave a nasty chuckle that hinted at much mischief, “Right Usagi-chan?”

 

“You got it, Rei-chan,” Usagi agreed, and together they double-teamed their mutual best friend, silencing Ami's protests with hungry, passionate kisses.

 

“[Oh dear,]” Dhanold sighed, “[Looks like it's happening again.]”

 

“[This could take a while you know,]” Zhandor remarked, “[Another two hours at least until those spores work their way out of their systems.]”

 

“[T'shalkri, old bean,]” a Raptor named Jonas said drolly, “[You didn't, by chance, deliberately mislead them this way with the intent of stirring up an orgy? That wouldn't be kosher.]”

 

“[Perhaps not,]” T'shalkri admitted, “[But at least they'll still be alive at the end of two hours, and by that time the Admiral will have organized a rescue team to go in there and do the work for them. It's all well and good that they were concerned with the welfare of their friends and crèche-mates, but to go up against the entire clan of the Trogs without weapons is hardly sporting, don't you know? This way at least they'll get a good shag and will be no worse for the wear, although some may be a bit sore about the hips when it's all over.]”

 

“[So naturally you expect us to wait around and see to it nothing nastier than us comes along and tries to take a bite out of them,]” Bolton turned to Jonas and sighed, “Humans…why does it always have to be humans…]”

 

“[Don't remember you being so picky about human females when the two of us were being toasted like celebrities on Hollywood,]” Jonas quipped by way of rebuttal.

 

“[That was different, we were ambassadors charged with exploring the mysteries of human culture,]” Bolton insisted, “[And besides, I had a little too much to drink that night and got a bit carried away, so sue me.]”

 

“[But what about their friends?]” Zhandor insisted, “[If the Trogs got to them…]”

 

“[I know,]” T'shalkri said sadly, “[Could be rather a bit of a mess having to explain things if any of them get eaten, but that's a risk we're going to have to chance for now, and I, for one, do not relish going to the Admiral and confessing that we allowed guests in our clan to come to harm at their own insistence. If any of their number does indeed fall prey to the Director, well…may the Serpent Lady have mercy on their souls, for their mortal remains are as good as forfeit…]”

 

 

Nabiki's Journal Continues:

 

Power: the work potential inherent in a body at rest, which can be utilized to achieve and effect or specific purpose. Normally I think of myself as a fairly powerless individual gifted with some unusual talents, but nothing to compare with the skills that have been developed over the years by my wife and husband, Shampoo and Ranma.

 

But not this time…this time I had power at my disposal like you would never believe. I could sense the currents and patterns of the life energy flowing through the air and could now tap into it like you could plug into a wall socket. It flowed into me, fortifying my very being, swirling around inside my nervous system and cranial passages, revitalizing every cell in my body and melding with my aura to create a powerful bond that gave me strength in infinite measure. I was bursting at the seams with raw Chi energy, and I had a lot of will to shape its flow as I was transformed into an avenging demi-goddess.

 

In a way I almost pity Akuma the Director for giving me that look of astonishment and dismay as I rose up out of the stew pot that was intended to be my culinary grave site. I'd been half-dead from heat prostration mere moments ago, but now I was crackling with energy and purpose, and I think maybe a little of it shone through in my eyes as I gazed back at him with the clear intention of making him pay for my ordeal and humiliation.

 

Strangely though what I was feeling was not really anger so much as a kind of sadness that a man who once was so gifted himself had turned into this pathetic joke of a high priest to cinematic excess. I felt more pity for him than outrage because I knew he was only just a shell of the person he once was before falling into the well of madness that had kept him going for twelve long years of self-imposed isolation. I also felt an enormous disdain for the thing which he had become, for the almost childish way in which he had lorded it over his crew and adopted tribespeople like a living god in their midst, bestowing upon himself the power of life and death, of setting himself above human morality and the ethical standards of most civilized people.

 

He was going to have to pay for what he had done, and I knew that just as firmly as I was intent on being the one to punish him. That's the other reason why I felt pity towards him as I prepared to dish out some long-delayed cosmic justice: I would not have wanted to be in his place right there and then facing me for an enemy!

 

The gods are sometimes known to have pity for mortals, but I was not about to show mercy towards the guy who had been the cause of so much death and suffering, and who had nearly turned me into a bowl full of miso!

 

And so I stood there cracking with energy while absorbing the raw manna energy all around me, taking in the rows of confused looking natives who were brandishing their weapons without certainty of what their role was since their chief had yet to call out directions for their next performance. In all the times that they had stood there gathered about to watch some young woman or hapless man get fried their victims had ever once turned the tables against them, so the thought that I might be of any threat to them must have seemed pretty unlikely.

 

I was, of course, shortly to disabuse them of that notion, but before I could strike I heard another commotion break out at the other end of the village.

 

At first the screams and shouting from several tribesmen had seemed incongruous to the setting since I had yet to take any action myself to cause it, but soon I perceived the reason why attention was being shifted away from me right there and then: a sabertooth tiger had just burst into their ranks and was slashing away at them left and right…and there someone riding on its back guiding its motions as though it were a champion war horse, someone who had long purple hair and was dressed in an animal skinned outfit that looked something like a spotted bikini from where I was standing.

 

Three guesses who and the first two don't even count.

 

Shampoo wasted no time in urging her “mount” to leap forward into the middle of the village, calling out to me as she went, “AIREN! YOU SHAMPOO IS HERE TO RESCUE YOU! YOU NO WORRY, SHAMPOO SAVE YOU!”

 

Well, better late than never, I suppose, and it was very gratifying to see my wife come charging to my rescue, but I was little more concerned over the fact that she was exposing herself to needless danger by attacking in the open, and with a slight shift of my attention I could see that the tribesmen holding spears and automatic rifles were intending to do something about it, like opening fire on her and the cat and reduce the both of them to Swiss cheese at a rate of 600 rounds per second.

 

Fat chance that I was going to sit still for that, especially now that I had a means of fighting back against those baka.

 

I centered my focus on the gunmen first, on the rifles they carried, which had originally been intended to be movie props yet were reworked so that their mechanisms worked properly when Akuma had staged his little “coup” against his own financial backers. There had been a limited supply of ammunition to start out with and over the years the guns had seen much use in defending the crew against the ravages of the local wildlife. By collecting spent shell casings and recasting fresh bullets they had prolonged their supply of ammo, but over time a general lack of care and proper maintenance had set in, causing many of the guns to jam or not work properly. After all, a jungle was a hell of an environment for sloppy, slipshod engineering standards, so those guns that still worked at all were halfway rusted and the ammo they used was second and third rate, capable of jamming or misfiring under the right sort of conditions.

 

I made sure that the conditions were ripe for all of them to misfire and explode in the hands of their own wielders, my mind going into the very substance of the propellant and altering the chemistry so that the unstable compounds went off either prematurely or not at all, which rendered them useless as a catalytic effect spread from one gun to the other, and by the law of Similarity and Contagion my spell had a sympathetic resonance that allowed me to take out nine guns when I'd only intended a few at my first effort. Those guns that misfired did not only jam but they came apart violently and caused great injury to the men pulling the trigger. Ordinarily I might have felt bad about hurting those guys, but they had been training their guns at Shampoo and that meant that I would spare them no remorse, no mercy.

 

I next turned and caused an entire row of charging spearmen to go down in a wave, their javelins cast wildly off target and thus missing Shampoo and the big cat altogether. Shampoo wasted no time urging her “friend” to attack them before vaulting from its back and grabbing a stray overhanging vine so that she could swing towards me like some purple haired Jane of the Jungle.

 

“Airen!” she cried as she landed right beside my stew pot, “Shampoo come for you, she help you to get out, yes!”

 

I welcomed her assistance since climbing out of that pot would have taken me some effort at that point. I had been standing erect amid the boiling broth without moving from the spot largely because to do so would have been enormously uncomfortable. I had parted the vines holding me down but there was still all of that stuffing mix shoved up my ass and crammed into my pussy that I'd yet to remove, so moving my lower body was…problematic, to put it mildly. Needless to say I leaned forward as Shampoo reached out to grip me under my arms, then she lifted me to freedom and set me down on firm ground while I shuddered a bit, relieved at the cool air that bathed my legs and hips after the way they had nearly been reduced to so much rubber.

 

Shampoo wasted no time taking me into her embrace, mashing my breasts up against hers while planting a brief kiss on my mouth to assure me that she was glad to be able to once more come to my rescue. She then drew back and said, “Shampoo sorry she so late, have hard time getting here, but now Shampoo and Ranma save Airen from bad men who want to eat her.”

 

“Ranma?” I gasped, looking from my wife to the village all around us, “Where is…?”

 

“MRREOWW!!” came a savage cry right before a redheaded figure pounced into the space near to us, then straightened out and revealed herself to be a snarling Ranma-chan.

 

“Oh,” I said, understanding immediately that my husband-turned-wife had fallen prey to his Nekoken curse.

 

“That why it take so long,” Shampoo informed me while still clinging to my shoulder, “Have to chase down Ranma and convince him we need find you, Nabiki. Once him get idea, though, then he dome here to pay back bad men who cook you.”

 

“MRRREEEOOOOWWW!!” Ranma snarled, then hissed as she bared her fingers like claws, and without another warning pounced at the ranks of the savage tribesmen and showed them what true savagery was like, scattering men left and right with well-timed slashes as though they were ten-pins.

 

Just then Shampoo noticed a milling of savages to our right and hastily pushed me to one side before taking up a defensive stance and growling, “You no come near or Shampoo make you very, very sorry!”

 

Somehow those guys just did not get the point that she was trying to convey to them, that this cute Chinese girl dressed like Sheena really did mean business, but I guess they just couldn't bring themselves to take any woman seriously, not after having victimized so many, so Shampoo took the fight to them and taught them the error of judging an Amazon by her hair color.

 

That left me with a slight problem with walking, but I was now free to dispense with the contents of my much-abused body cavities, scooping the vegetables and stuffing mix back into the pot as I had no intention of joining them again…ever! Instead I flexed my hips then turned about and sought out the one who I intended to make suffer.

 

Akuma.

 

He still could not get over the fact that someone like me was ad-libbing, that he had lost control over the production and that people were no longer following his directions. He was shouting orders to the grips and camera crew as though he meant to record the one-sided battle taking place all around us, but when he saw me stalking his way he immediately forgot about all of that and turned an almost plaintive look my way, confusing me once again with his original victim, Pai Takura.

 

“Pai,” he desperately urged, “We can still make this work…we have enough light left to complete the scene…!”

 

“Sorry,” I replied in an even tone, once more summoning my power to the appropriate levels, “I've decided on a script change, the heroine lives, but not so a certain director.”

 

He caught my deadly intentions in the look that I was giving him and immediately backed away, waving wildly to his men crying, “What are you waiting for, fools? Restrain her!”

 

They tried, I'll give them that much credit. They tried to obey the commands of their chief, but they were only men, about a dozen or so, each one at least half again my size and well conditioned to the idea that size really does matter. They reached for me with the obvious intention of putting me back into that stew pot, but I was done playing the helpless victim and had no time to waste on fools of their debased nature.

 

I didn't even have to lift a finger, I just concentrated and they went flying away from me in all directions, the force at my disposal picking them up and scattering them like cardboard props in a wind storm. Then—just to see that they kept out of my way—I extended both hands and curled my fingers as though shaping claws in the air, and at once I forced a connection between positive and negative nodes, causing lightning to burst out and lash them all where they had fallen, causing them to dance and scream in pain as I poured enough juice into them to light a small office building. Then I allowed the power to subside and turned my focus back upon my original objective.

 

Akuma was staring at me as though I had just grown horns and a tail, then he backed away gibbering some nonsense about “My Lady!” and invoking some kind of prayer to his “Snake Goddess.” I paid no heed to his ranting but merely took another step forward, causing him to back away even more frantically as I continued to advance and he continued to retreat further towards the Chieftain's hut that once been a film trailer.

 

I was not about to let him escape from me in his refuge, but right then another wave of savage, painted men tried to bar my way, to come to their Chieftain's rescue. These guys were his honor guard, the ones who were the biggest Akuma fanatics and who did his gruesome bidding, often performing the worst of the atrocities perpetrated against his victims. These were guys with blood on their hands all the way up to their armpits, who glorified in his crimes because their own savage natures were appeased in doing his dirty business. In other words these were the guys who most had it coming…

 

And all of them up against cute little old me, naked as the day I was born and half-steamed liked cooked vegetables, without even a rusty knife to serve me as a weapon.

 

They never even stood a chance.

 

My eyes were blazing with outrage, the numerous sins they had committed an open book to me, the screams of the dead echoing in my ears as I felt the torments of the damned, those who had perished gruesomely while pleading for even the slightest token of mercy. Brutal hands and laughing cruelty, I reached into the past and drew upon their karmic debt and demanded an instant accounting for their evil.

 

It's difficult to describe what exactly it was that I did to those red-fingered bastards, but it's sort of like I called upon the spirits of the departed and drew on the lingering trace memories left behind within their physical remains. Those skulls mounted on poles each represented a life that had been viciously taken, and the pile of bones in that pit near the center of the set was an amalgam of depravity from which I could draw out the wispy tendrils of long-ago extinguished life. I felt the dead moving up from all around me, taking form and regaining a semblance of what they looked like in life, only now as pale and haggard as walking corpses. The ghosts of the departed assembled around me then slowly fanned out to surround their guilty-eyed oppressors, and then the ghosts advanced upon the ones who had tormented them in life, and I felt the first of the screams break out as the ghosts took back that part of themselves which had been consumed to sustain the lives of their victimizers.

 

I stood my ground and watched the horror feast break out before me, yet strangely I did not feel the slightest fear as I witnessed ghosts sucking the life out of the ones who had eaten the flesh of their bodies. In a way it was poetic justice, and yet at the same time I felt an overwhelming sorrow. Life does indeed exist as a paradox where the health of one being is often sustained at the expense of another. These men had sought to live by turning to cannibalism to fulfill their meat rations, but in the process they had lost far more of themselves than could be gained with a full belly. What had started out as a cruel necessity had wound up becoming a gleefully indulged pastime with guys competing with one another to see which of them could come up with the most sadistic method of torturing their dinner.

 

I turned away only when the screams subsided into low moans and whimpers, then sought out the one who had managed to escape from the feast, Akuma himself, whose instinct for survival and self-preservation was the main reason he had put himself at the top of the food chain.

 

“Keep away!” he all but screamed, now completely losing it as his eyes were as round as one of those cartoon characters you see in a manga, “Don't come any closer—!”

 

I felt the ghosts lining up behind me, forming into a group that fanned out to either side of me, yet who kept a respectful distance as though bestowing onto me the right to claim our mutual vengeance. I had the peculiar sense of someone taking the space directly beside me and resisted the urge to glance sideways in order to see who she might be, instead fixing Akuma with a lethal stare that held him to the spot as though his bare feet had just been nailed to the flagstones.

 

“Really,” I said in droll tones, “Does that line ever work in the movies?”

 

“P-Please!” he begged, “I…I never meant any harm! I just wanted to make movies…!”

 

“Don't tell it to me,” I said in cool, dry aloofness, “Tell it to them, the ones you owe for making their lives a living hell. The set designers, dressmakers, make-up women, secretaries and personal assistants. Tell it to the stunt ladies and assistant camera directors, personal trainers and girlfriends you betrayed to their deaths. Tell it to the guys you double-crossed and ordered killed whenever they stepped out of line or tried to tell you that you were slipping into madness. Tell it to the ones you sacrificed in pursuit of your vision. You think life had no meaning for them? Guess again! Now they're here to pay you back for your wretched, miserable perversions!”

 

The shade to my left stepped forward, and suddenly I had a very clear idea of who she was, and I lifted an eyebrow as I found myself staring at the shade of…myself…or rather, what I might have looked like if I were a few years older, had longer hair and had been dead for more than a decade.

 

“Akuma-sama,” she said with unearthly tones that were like a cold breath in a cemetery, though she spoke the word with what almost sounded like affection, “You have suffered long for a dream, now the time has come for you to rest. Your burden is over, accept the curtain call, let the lighting fade and the credits roll, for you have done your part, and the rest…will be silence.”

 

“P-P-Pai…?” Akuma shook like a leaf as he straightened out and stared at her in sheer wonder, “Pai…it…it really is you…?”

 

“Yes,” she smiled, “I am here, Akuma-sama. It is time to rest, your part is played, the script calls for you to bring it to and ending.”

 

“But…how…why…?” for a moment I saw something in his eyes that almost looked like sanity, and the horror that came over his features was appalling in the extreme. He grabbed his temples and his mouth shaped a word, but no sound escaped from him, and I knew in an instant that he was remembering every evil thing that he had done for the sake of his movie.

 

“My love,” Pai called out, “You must let it go, you must not let the past weigh upon you. What is done is past and cannot be undone by mortal hands. Only accept what you have done and let the heavens decide your fate. We can do nothing more for you but to ease your burden in the great hereafter.”

 

“N-No…no, keep away from me!” he threw up his hands and broke free from my spell of paralysis, “You're dead! You're all dead! Haunt me no more, foul spirits! I am Akuma Zesutoru! I—!”

 

That was when he backed into the wrong set prop, one that had fur and was quite fully animated, and as he turned around to see what had obstructed his flight the great Director found himself face-to-fang with the saber toothed tiger, who snarled at him with bloodied jaws that had already tasted human flesh.

 

“Ah…nice kitty…?” Akuma plaintively asked in his last pathetic line in this existence, and then the screaming started as the tiger—true to its nature—opened wide and bit his face off.

 

I sensed that the ghosts surrounding me were averting their eyes and making warding gestures as though the crunching sounds of animal vengeance were appalling even to their morbid senses. I tried to look away but found that I could not, perversely fascinated at the sight of one predator asserting dominance over another, and then I felt the life exit from his twitching body as the tiger shook his remains like a rat in its jaws, then spat him out again as if losing all further interest.

 

“Akuma-sama…” many ghosts plaintively whimpered, then as one they turned away, all save for the one I knew to be the ghost of Pai Takura, who turned to me and smiled in an odd way as though the two of us were old friends who shared a memory together.

 

That was when the really curious thing happened…all at once an area directly behind the ghosts flared up like a torch and formed this shimmering gateway that was like a portal into some bright and golden place. I felt keenly drawn to the sight of the thing, but Pai deliberately stepped into my path and blocked my vision as best that she was able.

 

“Do not stare too long into the golden path, Tendo-san,” she informed me, “For where we go no mortal should follow, not so long as she has a destiny in this world.”

 

To my amazement I saw the lines of ghostly figures turn and enter the portal, one by one pausing to smile at me before vanishing into the void, drawn along on a cosmic escalator that I strongly suspect was connected to heaven. Pai remained for me a bit longer as the last of these ghosts traveled to the great hereafter, then spoke to me again and said, “We thank you for saving us, Tendo-san. You truly are worthy of the gifts that have been bestowed upon you by the heavens.”

 

I focused upon this older version of me and thought of a million things that I wanted to ask, but instead I simply spoke the questions that came foremost to mind, “You've been trapped here all this time?”

 

“Hai,” she answered softly, “Unable to cross over to the next realm, held here against our will by the force of another. Our spirits had been trapped in limbo until you awakened us just now, and yet still we have been aware and dreaming of this day, when one who was strong enough to overcome Akuma would serve as our liberator.”

 

“Ah…well, just doing my job,” I smiled, not knowing what else to say about the matter.

 

“You were so brave facing your moment of surrender,” she said, glancing down before adding, “I was not so brave or fortunate when I surrendered and met my end. You shame me, Tendo-san, and yet I know great joy in having met you. Go well in peace and live a long and happy life, just as I wanted to before coming to this accursed island.”

 

Again I felt a rush of questions that I wanted to ask, and once again I selected the one that came foremost to mind, “Is it true…did you really choose this fate for yourself?”

 

She looked me resolutely in the eye and said, “Yes…I chose to go this way. It seemed to be all for the best at the time…and I did not know until it was too late about the Serpent Lady who was afflicting my poor Akuma.”

 

“Serpent lady?” I asked again.

 

“You will meet her soon,” Pai's mouth quirked into a smile, “And she will not be too happy about what you did here. She considered us her prized possessions, and in freeing our essence you have made an enemy of her, but I dare say that she will be the one who regrets your meeting.”

 

I paused again before asking, “But…why…?”

 

“Why did I want to go out like this?” she shrugged, “You should understand that, you have felt the same temptations as I did. It is not so unpleasant a death as many another that might have befallen me sooner or later, and I wanted to do something…to contribute as best I could to the survival of my friends and loved ones. Akuma-sama and I talked about it long before we enacted the scene, and it was a glorious way to succumb, far more pleasant than sleeping pills or slitting my wrists. We were dying, you see, from hunger and malnutrition, and the natives seemed to think that offering one of their own up would help cure things…”

 

“And did it?” I asked.

 

“Yes,” she answered, “It proved to be a miraculous answer to all of our immediate needs…and yet we were being manipulated, used by the will of another. Akuma thought he was hearing voices, and now I know that he did what he did for reasons other than madness. But my choices were shaped by necessity and my own curiosity to explore the ultimate fetish, the forbidden taboo that civilized people shun from, to become as one with our dinner.”

 

I shuddered a bit at the memory of what it felt like to cook in that stew, and yet there had been a strangely erotic sense of sensualism to my ordeal, and I was clearly getting turned on while I cooked, so much so that I had nearly given up at the end there before some spark of rebellion was ignited in me, a will to live that overrode the force of my own perverted libido.

 

“There was, however, another reason why I chose to bow out with grace rather than to die of privation,” Pai continued, “I had a…special need to fulfill, and it was for her sake that I offered my body as meat to sustain her. She still lives, Tendo-san…and…I would ask a favor of you if you will allow it…”

 

“Name it,” I said automatically, only to get a lingering sense of what was being asked of me, to which I said, “You've got to be kidding…”

 

“She is tainted with the madness of her father,” Pai explained, “And she will bear watching over lest she turn out as I did. I do not ask this lightly of you, I only beg that you consider it as a proposal. It is much to ask, I know, and doubtless you may chose to leave the matter in the hands of others…”

 

“I get you,” I said, “I…I promise…I'll think it over.”

 

“Good,” she bowed to me, “Again, it is a pleasure meeting you, and one day we will meet again and talk as friends…though I suspect for you that day will be a long time in the future…”

 

And then the gateway widened up once more and Pai flowed through it like a stream of mist, vanishing as the gap closed behind her, leaving barely a whisper in her passage to mark that she had ever even been present.

 

“Airen?” I heard Shampoo ask, startling me out of my trance so that I turned to see my wife standing beside me with a much-concerned expression, “Airen, is you all right?”

 

“I'm fine,” I said, blinking my eyes once again as I felt my power levels slowly subside to normal, then I glanced around and said, “Uh…what…what happened here…?”

 

Shampoo turned and nodded at the scene of carnage all around us then said very softly, “This one not know. We were fighting…and then ugly men began screaming and clutching at their heads, saying something was eating them, then they fall down and go to sleep, all except red-fingered men over there,” she pointed with a slight wince coloring her beautiful expression.

 

I only gave a cursory glance at the elite body guards who once served Akuma, then grimly looked away, thinking to myself that Miss Hinako could hardly have done a better job of draining those guys so that they looked like a field of corpses.

 

“Any survivors?” I asked, trying very hard to put those images out of my mind, and failing badly.

 

Shampoo nodded, “Most ugly men is asleep, no dead, but there is children who no take part in the fighting. They over there playing with Ranma.”

 

“Huh?” I turned to see what she meant by that and came to witness one of the oddest sights that I might have imagined, in total counterpart to all of the horror that I had just witnessed.

 

Ranma was indeed playing with those urchin-like kids who earlier had been among the loudest calling for my death by cooking. They were behaving just like normal kids might do, playing tag with my currently Neko-cursed fiancée as Ranma darted about and teased them with kittenish delight, a pigtailed bundle of energy who delighted in the happy squeals of those kids as she darted about them, pausing only to let them pet and caress her cheeks like an actual kitten.

 

Right then and there I wished that I had my camera to preserve that moment, for it was just the thing I needed to drive all those morbid thoughts of what might have been right out of my head good and proper. I smiled in spite of myself and felt a warm feeling of affection for Ranma in her Neko state draw upon my heart strings…

 

But then my eyes fell on one of the girl children, about twelve years old and clearly the oldest, acting much like their ringleader. She had a bone in her hair that formed it into a pigtail and was the next best thing to naked with little budding breasts poking out from a slender chest, and her body as deeply tanned as any native, but clearly she was neither “Trog” nor Neanderthal but Japanese and quite human.

 

In an instant I knew her…Pai's child, Jingo, her only living daughter.

 

By Akuma.

 

I suddenly understand the missing piece that explained her voluntary death by cannibalism. She was starving with malnutrition and had nothing else to offer for her child to eat. She made a deal with Akuma to grant her baby by him a chance at life, just as might any other parent in her position. The natives had insisted that there were miraculous healing powers that came with eating human meat, and she gambled her life that there was truth to their conviction, and such had proven to be the case for her daughter had lived, and so had the rest of her people.

 

But at what cost? Here before me was a little girl whose daddy had been an insane movie director and whose mother had been cooked and eaten to insure her survival. The kid had grown up in an environment where “kill or be killed” was literally a divine commandment and had doubtlessly taken part in every cannibal feast that had followed over the course of the past ten years. She knew the taste of human flesh and quite obviously reveled in it. How then could such a one as her ever go back to civilization and grow up normally among other civilized people?

 

I decided that was one question that would have to be put off for now, but at the moment Shampoo reminded me of the present by leaning in close and licking me on my cheek. I turned to her with an incredulous expression and asked, “Wha…?”

 

“Shampoo think Ugly men have right idea about Airen,” Shampoo said, “But wrong way go about it. You smell good enough to eat to Shampoo, but Shampoo no mean to chew and swallow. She very much like Nabiki as she is and want to clean Airen out so she no sore on bottom.”

 

“I…you mean…? Oh…” I responded, then I swear to you I blushed so hard that I must have resembled a boiled lobster. Trust Shampoo to think of a thing like that at a time like this! What else could I do but take her up on her offer, allowing her to lead me by the hand back up the trail to those hot springs, dragging Ranma in tow with us so we could cure her of her Neko state while cleaning ourselves up and getting down to business.

 

But as we started to depart I glanced over at the remains of Akuma, then noticed that the saber-toothed cat was following us, albeit he seemed to be entirely casual about it and was not clearly looking to pounce on our bare bodies.

 

“Um…you two are friends now?” I asked.

 

“Hai,” Shampoo grinned my way, then indicated that curious neck-pendant that she was wearing as her sole ornament, he one I remember being given to her as a gift by Prince Kirin, “Shampoo convince big-tooth to no eat Ranma and Shampoo, make understand that we friends, no for eating.”

 

“And…uh…how did you manage that?” I asked nervously, not trusting myself around such a clearly vicious creature.

 

“Shampoo have ways,” she replied mysteriously, “She full on ugly men, no have appetite for us. Too bad stupid man in skirt get eaten, Shampoo want have words with him for thinking he do thing like that to Airen.”

 

“I'd say he got off lightly,” I remarked, but as I did so I frowned, feeling an acute sense that the matter was not entirely over and done with. There was an element yet to be dealt with in this picture, and those references to a “Snake Lady” had an ominous feeling about them, enough so that I knew this adventure had yet to be brought to a final conclusion, not least because we had still to reunite ourselves with Kasumi and the others.

 

Little did I know right then but I was shortly to have my encounter with the “Snake Lady” in question, and then Pai's words were to prove prophetic as if was the goddess Neferti who would regret our immanent meeting…

 

 

Continued

 

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