Pastpresent 6 - Tourism, Part 2

		The trip to Laos stands out in my mind for several 
	reasons, not the least of which was my own imbecility. 
	Imbecility is the only label I can apply to having 
	willingly gone along on a trip with Takashi after the 
	Sumatra disaster.

		Then, too, this was the first expedition we had 
	taken with your mother and Kiri in tow. Before, we just 
	had to worry about saving our own skins from being 
	sacrificed to rat gods, demonic llamas, and the shog... 
	well... never mind. Nodoka's presence added a whole new 
	level of worry all by itself.

		But it was Inji who really punctuated the trip, and 
	Kiritsubo.

		I had known her for years, and counted her as one of 
	my best friends, but there had always been that other 
	side of her, the one I had avoided asking about. I was very 
	upright back then, you see... not entirely honest, perhaps, 
	but honorable. Kiri's criminal ties made me somewhat 
	uncomfortable. It was pretty easy to ignore - she never 
	flaunted them - but it was always there, in the 
	background.

		Ignorance is never a defense, especially willful 
	ignorance.

--------------------------

	The grimy riverboat hummed down the Mekong at a far 
greater clip than one would expect. Not that this was saying 
much; the rotting wooden hull looked as through the only 
direction it could make great speed in was straight down. The 
entire ship had the sort of decaying awfulness that can really 
only be fixed by a good flamethrower and a few gallons of 
gasoline.

	For that matter, you could say the same thing about most 
of the crew.

	And yet here they were, Genma thought dazedly, having a 
formal dinner on deck. 

	Well, semiformal. Soun could be proper anywhere. Inji 
had a sort of casually relaxed look that would have fit a 
concert hall in Vienna, and Kiri... well.. she'd washed her face, 
and she was wearing shoes, and that was probably as formal as 
Kiritsubo ever got. They'd found a table, and the cups and 
dishes were all set correctly, even if they were tin. A few 
candles burned in empty bottles.

	And then there were the eight armed guerillas and the 
amazing sentient pond slime that served as the crew. That was 
really what spoiled the atmosphere.

	"So, Inji-kun," Kiri was saying, sipping at her tea, "what 
brings you to Laos?"

	Genma watched the fedora-clad gangster shrug. "I'm 
looking for something."

	"In Luang Prabang, eh?" she prodded. "Another one of 
those antiques you like?"

	Inji smiled slightly. "I can't exactly say that I've come 
all this way to do my grocery shopping, I suppose. Yeah, I'm 
here for an item. And you're on vacation?"

	"Yeah. You know, the lure of the open river, the scenery, 
the exotic atmosphere..."

	"...The guerrilla warfare, the communists, the mines and 
bombs, the human vermin... of course, Kiri-kun. I can see why 
Laos was the vacation getaway of your dreams."

	"It's very exclusive, and fits my modern, active lifestyle. 
And it's very ethnic. I'll probably wind up getting in touch with 
my inner child."

	Inji smirked slightly. "You have no inner child, Kiri-kun. 
If you ever did, you beat it to death years ago."

	"You're one to talk," she said stiffly.

	"I'm my own inner child," Inji said lazily. "I look at the 
world with childlike innocence, wonder, and joy. And a very 
sharp knife, of course. I'm afraid my inner child doesn't play 
well with others."

	"I expect someone will spank him, one of these days."

	"Several people have tried," Inji said. His eyes glittered. 
"You tried once yourself, as I remember. Fairly well, too."

	Genma felt the temperature across the table drop several 
degrees. "It was a good try," Kiri said blandly. "Could have 
worked."

	"Would you try it again?"

	"Not on your life." She winced. "That perhaps wasn't the 
best phrase to use. No. Once was enough."

	"Hm, yes." Inji glanced around the table to where Soun 
was busy eating the last of his rice and studiously ignoring the 
conversation. "But I'm being rude. Your friends have no idea 
what we're talking about, do they?"

	"No," Kiri said in a low hiss. "They don't."

	He smiled. "It's a good story. Kiritsubo and I were once 
the best of friends - well, we still are, of course - and we did 
quite a bit of joint work. Mutual favors. I even had her on 
salary for rough work." He sighed theatrically. "Alas. I was 
quite surprised when she helped try to kill me. Though I 
understand she was compensated for it."

	Soun choked on his food. Genma just stared at Kiri, 
waiting for her to correct Inji.

	"An offer I couldn't refuse, yeah," Kiri said matter-of-
factly. "I was more or less the only one who could do it."

	"A bomb, of all things, in my car. It's not a very fancy 
car, but I am attached to it." Inji shook his head sadly. "Luckily 
it's hard to get good help, and someone sold out the news that 
Kiri-kun here had taken the thirty pieces of silver. So I failed 
to go up in a ball of flame."

	"Win some, lose some," Kiri said.

	Inji absently tossed an orange from the fruitbowl into 
the air, caught it, and tossed it again. "Normally, I'd simply 
have cut her throat and been done with it." His other hand 
suddenly whipped out of his jacket, a silver blur in it catching 
the candlelight. Genma had just enough time to recognize it as 
some sort of knife before it vanished back beneath the jacket. 
The orange fell to the table, falling apart into 20 exactly-
proportioned slices. "But Kiri-kun here did save my life once. 
At some risk to her own, I might add. So I simply called that 
debt even, relayed my displeasure, and drove my point home." 
He smiled dryly. "The look on her face for most of that hour 
was priceless."

	Kiri just shrugged, her grip on her cup causing 
indentations to appear in the cheap metal. Genma exchanged a 
brief glance with Soun, neither of them liking what they were 
seeing and hearing. 

	For one thing, the content of the conversation aside, 
Genma doubted he could have drawn a knife with the speed or 
precision Kuonji had just shown. Up until now, he had been 
fairly certain he could take the man in the leather jacket. 
Now... now he wasn't sure. Judging from the guardedly 
thoughtful expression on Soun's face, he wasn't the only one.

	"But all friendships have their low points," Inji said 
lightly, waving a dismissing hand. "Kiri betrays me, I make her 
shriek for an hour or two, and everyone's friends again in the 
morning. We understand each other now."

	"Very well," Kiri said flatly.

	Kuonji stood, beamed, and brushed a few crumbs from his 
front. "Wonderful repast. Best moldy beans and rice I've had in 
ages. My compliments to the chef. Have you decided on a good 
story regarding Miss Nodoka?"

	"Well, er, ah," Soun and Genma began.

	"It appears not. I'll ask again tomorrow. Good night 
gentlemen, Kiritsubo." Inji gave them a mock bow and strolled 
off, disappearing from sight down the forward hatch.

	A silence followed. Kiri stared at her teacup for a few 
seconds, then stood up and walked off towards the bow, 
leaving Genma and Soun alone at the table.

	"Well, Kasigi?" Soun finally said.

	"He's good," Genma said. "Faster than me at drawing, but 
I'm not an iaidoka."

	"I agree, but that's not what I meant."

	He spread his hands, feeling a little ill. "I don't know. I'm 
sure we didn't hear the whole story. I really can't see Kiri 
trying to kill someone, or betraying a friend. For that matter, I 
can't see her as being friends with that viper."

	Soun looked uncomfortable. "She is a bit of a... that is..." 
He sighed. "Kasigi, we both know she has little if any respect 
for the law. Kuonji seems exactly the sort of person she would 
be friends with, and as for trust among thieves..."

	"There's a big difference between being involved in a 
little shady business and trying to kill someone. Or doing 
whatever it is that scumbag did to even things out." Several 
unpleasant pictures sprang into Genma's mind, and he had to 
fight down a surprisingly strong urge to go find Inji and punch 
him through the side of the boat.

	"She didn't deny it," Soun observed. "The opposite. And..."

	Genma stood, a growing annoyance showing on his face. 
"I'm going to go ask her about it, and that'll be the end of it."

	"Are you sure that's wise, Kasigi?"

	Probably not, he thought. "Yeah. It needs to be asked. Why 
don't you go make sure Nod..." he stopped, glancing around. "The 
baggage, I mean. Why don't you go check on the baggage?"

	"A fine idea," Soun said, rising. "We don't want any 
accidents, especially in light of what we just heard." He shook 
his head in bafflement. "I admit, I'm still unclear on how Nodo... 
our baggage is connected to that scorpion."

	"Everyone but us seems to have had the pleasure of 
meeting him before. Just keep on your toes, Soun. That guy's 
dangerous."

	"So am I," Soun said, miffed.

	"Yes, but Inji's a ravening wolf to your irritated bunny 
rabbit. Not the same level of dangerous." Soun began to sputter, 
and Genma walked off towards the bow. "Just watch out."

	He didn't catch all of Soun's reply, but got the general 
idea behind it. 

	After five minutes, he found Kiritsubo slouched in the 
ropewell of the bow, absently sipping at her dented cup and 
watching the Mekong unfold in the dark. She nodded slightly as 
he sat down across from her.

	"He get to you?" he finally said.

	Kiri shrugged. "A bit. Inji gets to everyone, I think. I know 
him better than most, so he gets to me more."

	Genma hesitated, not sure how to phrase the question he 
really wanted to ask. "About the conversation just now..."

	She glanced at him. "Yeah?"

	"I was just wondering... I don't know. He doesn't seem the 
sort you'd be friends with. He doesn't seem the sort of be 
friends with anything without scales and fangs, actually."

	"We were pretty good friends, actually," Kiri said shortly. 
"Or close enough. I did work for him... was his right-hand man, 
so to speak. He trusted me about as much as he trusts anyone."

	"Work?"

	"Yeah. I can go into detail if you want."

	He hesitated, the automatic frown of disapproval 
starting to come to his face, the usual 'no' leaping to his lips. 
Then he remembered that this was, in fact, what he had come 
to ask her about. "Okay."

	"Robbery was the most common. Some transport of stolen 
goods. A few narcotics deals." She paused, waiting for his 
reaction.

	"Drugs?" he said, something akin to shock moving over 
his face. "Just the light stuff, right? Weed, that sort of thing?"

	"Not really." She shrugged, her face unreadable. "The hard 
narcotics are the most profitable. I oversaw distribution. 
Everyone involved came out with a lot of money, although the 
addicts probably spent it fast."

	He sat back, confusion mixing with a sort of dull pain. 
Drug dealers were supposed to be hateable scum like Inji, not 
your best friend... he couldn't imagine, couldn't picture the 
person he knew doing that. "Why?"

	"Money, mostly." She looked at him steadily. "I also did 
payment collection and object lessons, now and then, when 
someone wasn't settling his bills."

	And I've always appreciated Kiritsubo's skill at breaking 
bones to order, Inji had said. Genma stared at her as if seeing 
her for the first time. Maybe he was, part of him said. She 
didn't look guilty, or ashamed, or even repentant, and it 
occurred to him that this might be because she was none of 
those. "Money again?"

	"Mostly."

	He let out a deep breath and looked at the water. "I'm not 
really sure what to say, Kiri. I never knew you were..."

	She glared at him. "Oh, please. You didn't want to know. 
You didn't ask, and I didn't tell, and that's been us for about 
five or ten years."

	"I know." He shook his head, trying to make sense of it. 
"But I still didn't think... I mean, drugs? Legbreaking? That's 
not you!"

	"Sure it's me!" Her hand shot out, pushing him back 
against the rail as she stared fixedly at him. "Do you think I do 
this for a hobby? Like Nodoka and that stupid sword-art thing, 
or Soun and his kung-fu kick? The law says I ain't got jack, so 
screw it! I'll do what I want so I can eat."

	He shoved her arm away angrily. "Oh, come on! I'm not 
exactly crawling in money either, and I've never peddled..."

	"So?" she hissed. "Look at you! You slave away for next to 
nothing, you have to do jobs like this to keep your head above 
water... but hey, you're nobly poor, so it's okay! I don't give a 
shit about any of that, Genma! We can't all be perfect samurai 
like you!"

	"You don't have to be a samurai to not push dope and kill 
your friends for money!" She flinched, but he kept going, the 
hurt and anger happy to have a verbal outlet. "Does this mean 
you'd sell me out for enough-"

	He barely managed to move his hand up in time to block 
her punch. His palm creaked from the impact and slapped back 
against his face anyway; she was quite a bit stronger than he 
was. But he was faster, and he took the opportunity to kick her 
legs out from under her.

	Kiri climbed to her feet as he backed warily away, 
uncertain of what to do. They had done this a hundred times 
before, but that had been with the old Kiri.

	But, of course, this was the old Kiri too.

	She glared at him. "No, I wouldn't, asshole. Thanks for 
your damn trust."

	Genma forced himself to keep his face impassive, 
reminding himself that she was the one who'd let him down, 
not vice versa. "Well? You tell me that you tried to murder one 
of your old buddies, and I should just... what, shrug and say, 
'That's nice?'"

	"You're not Inji," she said slowly, the anger and energy 
seeming to drain out of her. "He was my friend, but he... it 
needed to be done, Genma. I'm just sorry it didn't work." She 
sagged, the weight of the world suddenly seeming to appear on 
her shoulders. "That was the thing that bothered me the most, 
betraying him like that. But I didn't do that for money. I did it 
because it was the right thing to do. The people who I did it for 
were... well... I suppose I got sentimental." She chuckled 
humorlessly. "Hell of a way to go not-quite-straight."

	He hesitated, trying to pick his way through the mess of 
emotions and ethics lying broken in his head. "Do you still do 
all that stuff?"

	She shook her head. "I still deal in some stuff that isn't 
exactly aboveboard, and most of the machines I work on are 
hot, but I don't do narcotics or object lessons anymore. It 
wasn't..." She stopped, seeming uncertain.

	"It wasn't you?"

	"It was too damn much me," she said in a low voice. 
"That's why I got out. While I still didn't really enjoy it. While 
part of me was still bothered by it. The bomb was sort of my 
resignation notice."

	Genma nodded. "So what did he do afterwards?"

	Kiri went a little grey. "Nothing I really want to go into. 
There was a lot of pain, and that pretty much sums it up. But it 
could have been worse, in a lot of ways. Nothing permanently 
damaged, no major scarring, no, uh, gender-related stuff. And 
he didn't kill me, mostly because of his weird sense of honor."

	Genma scowled. "I'm gonna take his 'weird sense of honor' 
and shove it up his-"

	"I don't think you can," Kiri said bluntly. He frowned, 
feeling somewhat hurt, and her expression softened a bit. "Not 
that you aren't good and all, but Inji's a killer.  Don't fight him 
unless someone's life is at stake, okay? Please?"

	He sighed, looking away. "I don't like people who hurt my 
best friend."

	"I know you don't. That's part of why..." She stared at the 
deck. "Am I still your friend?"

	He hesitated for a second, and then nodded. "Of course you 
are, Kiri. Jeez. Just..." He shrugged awkwardly. "I should have 
asked you before, but I guess I was scared that you'd tell me. I 
still don't like it."

	"That's who I am, Genma," she said in a small voice, 
looking self-conscious for perhaps the first time since he'd 
known her. "I'm out of the really serious stuff, but I'm still in 
the game. And even the serious stuff never bothered me all 
that much. Can you deal with that?"

	He laughed, wondering exactly how much sleep he was 
going to lose over this. "I'd hafta be really stupid not to have 
noticed that you aren't exactly on the up-and-up, Kiri. I don't 
like that either, but the two of us is bigger than that. Just... let 
me know if you start to slip back, okay?"

	"What, so you can give me a lecture about honor and 
ethics?"

	"No, so I can beat you to a pulp, cycle thug."

	She chuckled and shook her fist at him. "Try it, punk."

	"Not today. C'mon, stop staring at the river and help me 
figure out a way to get us to Luang Prabang in one piece."

	"Huh." She drummed her fingers against the rail, thinking, 
and then glanced up sourly. "I hate to say this, but Nodoka's 
going to have to room with me. It's the only place on the ship 
Inji and his goons won't barge into."

	Genma smirked. "Actually, we already stuck her in there. 
Think you two can last the trip without killing each other?" 
Part of him was alarmed by how easily they had fallen back 
into the familiar old rhythms, as if nothing had happened, and 
he wondered if he could really accept her as what she was. And 
he wondered why it didn't really seem to make that much of a 
difference.

	"Mmmm. Can I hogtie and gag her?"

	"I think she might take offense to that."

	"Figures. Yeah, I'll put up with her for the time being." 
She grinned wickedly, and glanced at him. "Of course, we could 
just stick you and her in one of the smaller rooms down in 
steerage and nail the door shut..."

	"Ah, no," he said quickly, sweating in spite of himself.

	"What? I'm sure Nodoka would jump at the idea..."

	"Yes, I know. Forget it." He'd rather just fight Inji, Genma 
decided. Seal Nodoka and him up in a small room for long 
periods of time, and who knew what might happen?

	Not that it was an entirely unpleasant thought...

	She'd drag you to the nearest altar, his higher thought 
processes pointed out, shuddering in terror. If Inji was the 
only person around, she'd probably ask him to perform the 
wedding ceremony. "Forget it," he repeated.

	Kiri just shook her head. "You two have one weird 
relationship. Doncha ever, I don't know, put the moves on her or 
something?"

	"I don't dare to. If I give an inch, she'll take as many 
miles as she can." He kicked absently at the rail, feeling the 
familiar mix of fondness, frustration, and ambivalence he 
usually had when talking about Nodoka and him as a couple. "To 
tell you the truth, I'm not sure how I feel about this whole 
girlfriend thing."

	"Don't you like her?"

	"Of course I do." It was the truth, too; there were few 
things he enjoyed more than spending time in Nodoka's 
company, just talking or sparring or... or... or doing just about 
anything that didn't involve her wrapping herself around his 
arm. "But I'm not really at the point in my life where I can 
manage a relationship, you know? I'm busy all the time, my 
heart's in the Art... if I ever get serious with someone, I'd want 
to give all of myself to them. Everything, every waking 
moment. I'd want to build my life around them, and I can't do 
that yet." He stopped, feeling somewhat embarrassed. "There's 
plenty of time. Nodoka or whoever will just have to wait."

	Kiri had turned to look out at the water; Genma saw the 
back of her shoulders shrug. "Yeah, that's like you. Solid and 
dependable and annoying. But people don't wait forever, you 
know. Sometimes they leave, or you lose them, and you never 
see it coming."

	"I don't think Nodoka'll make a break for it anytime soon," 
he said confidently. "Not unless Soun gets a whole lot more 
suave."

	"I really doubt that's gonna happen," Kiri snorted. "Soun's 
as goofy as they come... in a nice way, some of the time, but in 
a real annoying way the rest." She straightened, stretched, and 
began to climb out of the ropewell. "C'mon. I'd better go put 
your baggage in her place."

	Genma winced, and followed her out of the ropewell. A 
drop of water glistened on the rail for a second, catching the 
sun and the river, then soaked into the rough wood and 
vanished. Another drop, kicked up by the prow, replaced it a 
few minutes later, seemingly no different than the first.

* * * *

	Saotome Nodoka was not a happy woman.

	The trip had sounded like a lot of fun when she had first 
heard about it. Sure, Genma and Soun had sworn up and down 
that it was going to be a tour of the less pleasant parts of 
hell... but they had a tendency to exaggerate juuuuust a bit. If 
they told her they had seen an ocean, it probably meant they 
had fallen in a puddle.

	Of all the times for them to have been telling the pure, 
unvarnished truth...

	Irritated, she glanced around the cabin Genma had 
crammed her in. The best thing you could say about it was that 
it was cleaner than the rest of the ship, which was damning 
with faint praise.

	And then there was the homicidal maniac outside, the 
homicidal maniac's gunmen, the criminals serving as the crew, 
and Biki Kiritsubo. Most PRISONS in Japan contained a more 
upright collection of people.

	No, this was definitely not fun. Although she had to admit 
that it was impressive how... comradely Soun and Genma were 
being. They'd been acting almost like a team for the entire trip; 
back home, the same amount of time would have seen at least 
four massive fights, seven loudly-shouted melodramatic death 
threats, 28 insults, and at least one instance of fairly 
substantial property damage.

	The cabin door began to open. Nodoka quickly ducked 
behind the bed, then stood back up as she saw Kiri carefully 
closing the door behind her. "Kiritsubo? What's going on?"

	Kiri gave her a sickly grin. "Inji's going to be staying for 
a while, which means you get to hide in my cabin for the 
duration." She noticed Nodoka's expression, and rolled her eyes. 
"I'm not thrilled about it either, Saotome. Don't step on my toes 
and I won't step on yours. Much."

	"Just make sure you bathe regularly and I'll be fine," 
Nodoka retorted.

	"Oh, I'm real hygienic, samurai chick. Want me to see if I 
can find you some silk sheets and fresh flowers?"

	"I'm sure you could get just about anything if you bent 
your hands to it, Biki-san," Nodoka said sweetly. "Anything not 
nailed down, at least."

	"At least I use my hands and not the rest of my anatomy."

	Nodoka flushed. "Yes, I imagine you do use your hands, 
poor dear. Just don't resort to such things while I'm in the 
room, and not if we're going to share the bed..."

	Kiri took a step forward, an unpleasant look in her eyes. 
"Oh, big talk from the chick with the blunt sword. Been oiling 
it well while Genma's busy?"

	This time she turned bright crimson, which made Kiri 
raise both eyebrows speculatively. "Whoa, I hit a sensitive 
spot there? Full points for perversity, although you should 
really try to rely on Genma instead of long metal p-" Kiri 
stopped, glancing down at the metal sword tip that had 
suddenly whipped up to the base of her throat. "Nice draw. 
Please don't touch me with that without washing it first."

	Nodoka snarled and glared at her. "I'm supposed to share a 
room with you? I don't think so. Sleep in the hall. Sleep in the 
hold. Sleep in the bilges for all I care!"

	"I'm overcome with joy too, Saotome, but we ain't got no 
choice," Kiri said patiently, using the reasonable, calm voice 
most people reserved for the young, the elderly, or the very 
stupid. "My room is safe because it's my room, and Inji knows 
I'll fold anyone who comes in here into a cute bit of human 
origami. If he finds out you're here, he'll probably try to kill 
you, and then Genma and Soun will try to kill him, and then the 
nice men with the automatic weapons will try to kill 
everybody. So we can either keep you in here or stuff you in a 
crate and nail the lid down, and I was outvoted. Deal with it."

	Nodoka lowered the iaito and threw up her free hand in 
disgust. "Fine! Great! Just... I don't know, don't plot any bank 
robberies or muggings in front of me."

	"I'm a mechanic, not Al Capone." Kiri strolled over to the 
bed, flopped down on her half of it, and produced a tattered 
paperback from somewhere in her jacket. "I'm gonna read. Stare 
in a mirror, or hug your sword, or whatever it is you do to 
relax."

	"You can read?"

	"I'm sorry, did you want to live to see tomorrow?"

	"All right, sorry." She glanced curiously at it. "So what is 
it?"

	"Shayo, by Dazai Osamu."

	Nodoka blinked in surprise. "That's pretty sophisticated 
stuff."

	"Yeah, I look at the big words and make peasantlike 
grunts of incomprehension."

	"I didn't mean it like that," Nodoka said, irritated. "I was 
serious. My idea of great literature is novels with pink covers 
and bare-chested men on the jacket."

	Kiri wrinkled her nose. "Can't stand that stuff. The 
heroines mope around the whole book and do nothing. Well, 
nothing except get some, repeatedly."

	"Yup," Nodoka said smugly. "I'm easily amused, I guess."

	That prompted a chuckle from her reluctant roommate. 
"Or something. Okay, I read cheap pulp thrillers now and then. 
But I like the masters better."

	"How'd you get into that sort of thing?"

	Kiri shrugged, eyes still on the page. "I read a lot at the 
home. I think... I sorta have a vague memory of my parents 
reading to me, but that's probably just wishful thinking on my 
part."

	"I don't remember my father," Nodoka said wistfully. "I 
have a mental picture of Mother, but it seems to get hazier 
every day."

	Kiri nodded. Their generation had a lot of people who 
couldn't remember their parents' faces. "The bombing?"

	"Not for Mother, no. It was after the war. A training 
accident of some kind. I think that's why grandfather stopped 
training me and took on Genma and Soun; Mother's death hit him 
pretty hard, and he didn't want her daughter in the same sort of 
danger."

	"Well, you're in a whole new sort of danger." Kiri glanced 
at her sharply. "So how _did_ you get away from Inji? Not to 
mention knock him out? I know for a fact you ain't that good."

	"These two weird Chinese women showed up, knocked him 
out, asked me about an ancient wandering pervert master, and 
then vanished."

	"I didn't know you were into hallucinogens."

	"I'm not! It really happened like that!"

	Kiri rubbed her chin dubiously. "If you say so..." She 
stopped, blinking. "Waitaminute, two Chinese chicks with 
swords?"

	"That's right," Nodoka said eagerly. "Do you know 
something about them?"

	"Not exactly, but weren't they in the theatre the night 
you had your date with Soun?"

	"I don't know, I wasn't-" Nodoka stopped, and narrowed 
her eyes. "Wait, how do you know who was in the theatre?"

	"Er, ah, lucky guess?"

	"You made a lucky guess that two Chinese women with 
swords were in the theatre?" Nodoka glared at her. "I thought 
there was something odd going on."

	"Hey, I was hoping you and Soun'd get it on! I was on your 
side!"

	"I am _not_ going to 'get it on' with Soun," Nodoka 
frostily informed her. "I'm already taken."

	"But Soun's a lot better than a metal sword." Nodoka 
turned purple as Kiri frowned thoughtfully. "Well, probably. 
Okay, nevermind, stick with the sword."

	Nodoka felt her left eye start to twitch rapidly. She 
calmly reached for her iaito.

* * * *

	Soun and Genma stared at the door to Kiri's room and 
listened to the muffled shrieking and crashing coming from 
behind it.

	"I think they're busy, Tendo."

	"Undoubtedly, Kasigi."

	"You know how women are."

	"Oh, certainly. Girl talk."

	"DIEYOUPSYCHOTICGUTTERRATAAAARGH," the door 
commented.

	"Feminine issues," Genma carefully replied.

	"CMEREYOURICHFLOOZYOW!BITCH," the door pointed out.

	"We men probably wouldn't understand," Soun said 
gravely. "Women are so much more sensitive than we are."

	The unmistakable sound of someone's head meeting wood 
drifted out.

	Genma winced. "Well, at least they'll be relatively safe 
from Inji in there."

	"Indeed. Now we just must worry about Taka..." Soun 
blinked in alarm. "Kasigi! Where did Kuno-san go?"

	"Did you, hmm, want something?" Takashi asked.

	Genma spun. "Takashi? Where the hell did you come 
from?"

	The archeologist smiled in his usual benign, slightly 
disconnected way. "Oh, I was just here and there."

	Soun picked himself up off the floor, thumping his chest 
a few times to restart his heart. "Kuno-san, must you be so... 
quiet?"

	Takashi shrugged apologetically. "I'm afraid that, hmm, 
Inji is a very vigilant fellow. Stealth, silence, and finesse are 
called for."

	"YAAARGHGETOFFAMEBITCHARRRGH," said the door, 
followed by the sound of glass breaking.

	Takashi raised an eyebrow.

	"The girls are rooming together," Genma said with 
artificial cheer. "They're just giving the room a breaking in... or 
up... I'm sure it's just a friendly discussion, anyway."

	"NOTEETHNOTEETHAIIIIIYEE," the door added.

	"How nice," Takashi said. "I remember rooming my first 
year of university. Quite jolly. I don't think we broke as much 
furniture over each others' heads as Kiritsubo and Nodoka-san 
seem to be doing, but I expect women, hmm, do things 
differently."

	"It's just until we get to Luang Prabang," Genma said. 
"Then Kuonji can go his way, and we can go ours."

	Takashi shook his head sadly. "I'm afraid that Inji-san is 
here for the same objects of historical value as, hmm, as we 
are. We'll probably have to deal with him for quite a while... or 
we would, anyway." He beamed. "I've made the most _brilliant_ 
arrangement to slow him down! We should be well out of Laos 
by the time he, hmm, even reaches the Temple of Five Thousand 
Forms of Highly Gratuitous Agonizing Death!"

	"Ah," Soun said resignedly. "That's the name of the place 
we're going, right?"

	Takashi nodded. "I believe it's on the World Heritage 
List."

	"But it's not really a godforsaken deathtrap that even a 
suicidal fool would avoid, right?" Genma said, a certain 
maniacal cheer creeping into his voice. "The name is just 
exaggeration, yeah?"

	"Oh, the name is just a metaphor, of course. For, hmm, 
turnip fertility if I remember the journal article correctly. 
Safe as houses."

	"But...?" Genma and Soun said as one.

	Takashi coughed apologetically. "I'm sure that there's a 
perfectly innocuous reason why the last 23 heavily-armed 
expeditions failed to return."

	"Ah," Genma and Soun said.

	"Possibly they got lost."

	"No Shoggoths, though, right?" Genma said hopefully.

	"Please don't say that name, Kasigi..." Soun muttered.

	Takashi laughed. "Dear me, no. Even if such an absurd 
thing actually existed..."

	"I saw you turn a flamethrower on it, it threw Genma 50 
metres, and it ate three of the guides," Soun muttered darkly. 
"Not to mention the thing it did with the ball lightning and 
ichor."

	"Even if such a thing existed instead of being a fever-
induced hallucination," Takashi said firmly, "It wouldn't be 
anywhere near the place."

	"Well, that's something," Genma muttered.

	"It would, hmm, be far too frightened by the terrible 
hideous powers of the equally imaginary gods sleeping fitfully 
beneath the surface, only lightly chained and ready to send any 
trespasser into an eternity of soul-tearing agony in the cold 
lands of nightmare and shadow, where the mad things of fallen 
Tsygh-Shadoth lie chained in stygian darkness gnawing on the 
bowels of the damned. But, of course, that's all just silly 
native superstition." He beamed. "I'm off to bed. Sleep well! Ta-
ta!"

	Genma and Soun watched him amble cheerfully down the 
corridor.

	"Let's just throw him overboard and go home, Tendo."

	"It is tempting, Kasigi."

	"Probably not compatible with our honor as true martial 
artists, though."

	"Alas, Kasigi."

	Genma sighed, and listened to the merry gurgling of 
someone's head being stuffed in a toilet that was coming from 
Kiri's room. "Never again, Tendo."

	"Never again, Kasigi."

	They turned and went to find their respective rooms, 
each somewhat grateful that they weren't sharing one. After 
all, the type of warm bonding and blossoming friendship that 
Kiri and Nodoka were currently experiencing wasn't for 
everybody.

* * * *

	Kiritsubo woke up with a headache, which wasn't 
surprising considering the furniture that Nodoka had 
introduced to her skull. And the metal sword. And the mirror. 
And a washbasin.

	It had been a better fight than she had expected; Nodoka 
was actually fairly well trained. But formally trained, which 
meant that she struck with lightning speed, exquisite force, 
and then expected Kiri to do the usual thing and fall over. When 
the mechanic instead just swore and tossed her opponent into 
a wall, it threw Nodoka somewhat off. It threw Nodoka into a 
lot of things, actually.

	They had eventually come to an understanding, which was 
that Kiri would hold Nodoka's head underwater, and Nodoka 
would make glubbing noises and pass out. Kiri was happy with 
this solution, and Nodoka hadn't argued. Not so's that Kiri could 
understand, anyway. The spasmodic jerking and glubbing might 
have been protest, she supposed, but then again maybe not.

	She had been graceful in victory and given Nodoka half of 
the bed. A mistake, she thought, shivering in her shirt and 
undergarments. The rich chick had stolen the covers.

	Wincing, she rolled over and began to tug at the warm-
looking roll of sheets and blanket huddled on the other side of 
the bed. "Hgmmm, Sauutumi, giimi blankit," she mumbled.

	A bare leg emerged from the heap and kicked her in the 
shins. "Gyt yzzzm awn," Nodoka's voice slurred.

	Kiri snarled, and stared balefully at the cozy, warm-
looking, comfortable pile. She really wanted to go back to 
sleep, but she could feel the cold air that was rising from the 
Mekong freezing the skin off her. Getting out of bed and getting 
the rest of her clothes on was one option, but that would 
involve actually standing up and moving around.

	"Gimme," she repeated, yanking the visible leg to add 
emphasis. A groan of protest issued from the blanket heap, and 
another leg shot out to kick Kiri in the side of the head.

	Right, Kiri thought viciously, that did it. With the grace 
of a inebriated turtle, she lunged across the bed, grabbed two 
handfuls of blanket, and began to pull. A groan of protest went 
up, and the two exposed legs began to kick at her.

	"Gimme the damn blanket," she snapped blearily, 
grappling the heap in an attempt to keep her hold while 
avoiding the punishing feet. "Cold."

	"Gwaaay," the heap of blankets said, thrashing against 
her grip.

	"Gimme," Kiri insisted, pulling at the struggling heap of 
covers. When this tactic showed limited success, she 
clambered atop the pile and began to bang the bedside 
washbasin over what she guessed to be the head area.

	*CLANGCLANGCLANG* "Gimme!"

	"Fuuuuuuukufffffff!"

	Behind her, delicately, a throat was cleared.

	Kiri froze. The heap froze. Slowly, she turned her head to 
look.

	"I'm interrupting something, aren't I?" Kuonji Inji said 
mildly. He eyed the scene with interest. "Although I'm not sure 
what."

	"I thought I told you to keep the hell out?" Kiritsubo 
snapped, a now familiar chill running down her back. She hadn't 
been afraid of Inji when she worked for him - well, except in 
an abstract sort of way - but now.... well, it was amazing the 
change an hour could make. "Ever hear of knocking?"

	Inji rapped on the door, looking slightly apologetic. "Of 
course. Terribly rude of me. I just stopped by to complain about 
the screaming and smashing that's been coming from your 
room. I thought you valued your privacy?"

	"Er, yes, haha, well..." Kiri said weakly, mind working 
frantically for a way to get Inji out without getting him 
suspicious. "Well. Uh." Brilliant, she screamed at herself.

	"You seem to be in bed with someone," Inji observed. "And 
I passed Mr. Kasigi and Mr. Tendo on deck a short while ago. 
Have we met?"

	"Uh, um," Kiri said, mental wheels spinning desperately. 
Yes, why was there someone in her bed? Especially after she 
had made such a fuss about a private room? Bed... private... "It's 
my lover," she declared. That should satisfy his curiosity, and 
hopefully get him to make a departure...

	Inji raised an eyebrow. "Your lover?"

	"What, aren't I entitled to one? Women have needs too, 
y'know."

	"I'm aware of that, yes. But those are female legs."

	"So they are," Kiri said cheerfully, fighting back the urge 
to scream in frustration. She glanced down at where Nodoka's 
knees emerged from the covers, and then shrugged. "And?"

	"You never struck me as the type..."

	"I wear a leather jacket, I got short hair, I'm big and 
butch, and I work on motorcycles. What do you want, a neon 
sign?" In fact, far too many people assumed that she DID like 
women - which was most definitely not the case; she was as 
straight as the line between two points. Not that anyone would 
believe that if word of this ever got out. She mentally swore. 
"Got a problem with it?"

	Inji looked somewhat dubious. "I seem to recall you 
ogling James Dean..."

	Kiri started to open her mouth to give a firm denial, and 
then the arm emerged from the heap, snaked up her leg, and...

	Her eyes crossed. Nodoka was going to die.

	"Ah, not now darling," she simpered desperately. 
Ohhhhhhhhgodgodgod..........

	A throaty purr emerged from the heap, the husky sound in 
it making Kiri want to run like hell.

	Inji just stared, then shook his head slowly. "You think 
you know someone. Um. I'll let myself out. Have fun, you two."

	Kiri waited for the door to close, counted to five, and 
then ripped the hand away, tore off the blanket, picked up 
Nodoka by the throat, and began to hammer her into a wall. 
"What....*WHAM*.... the hell... *WHAM* was that... *WHAM* 
supposed to be... *WHAM* you perverted little..."

	"Gaaaacckhewasn'tbuyingithewasgoingtokillusstopit!"

	Livid with barely-contained fury, she shoved her face 
into Nodoka's, which was rapidly turning an interesting shade 
of purple. "If you ever, ever do that again, I am going to stuff 
you in a turbine, hit 'frappe', and feed the bits to a cat which 
I'll buy for that very purpose! You get me, swordkisser?"

	"gaaaaaaaaaaaaack."

	"Is that a yes?"

	"aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaugh."

	Shuddering, Kiri dropped her. "I mean, gah, you didn't have 
to do that with such... I dunno... FEELING. Where'd you learn... 
no... no, nevermind, please don't answer that, I feel violated 
enough as it is..."

	"He wasn't buying it!" Nodoka croaked, rubbing her throat. 
"He was going to have you take off the blanket in a few 
seconds! You think I enjoyed that?"

	"It sure sounded like it!"

	"I just pretended it was Genma!"

	Kiri stared at her. "Genma ain't got the sort of equipment 
you were handling, sword chick."

	"I was-"

	"Drop it!" Kiri said, wondering if she was going to have to 
throw up. "Let's just... forget this whole incident happened, 
yeah. Okay?"

	"Please," Nodoka said wretchedly.

	"And you ain't sharing a bed with me no more."

	"I thought you were going to drop it, you stupid gorilla!"

	"Are you asking me to beat you to a pulp? 'Cause I really 
want to at the moment! Is that what you want?"

	"Try it, you wannabe Hell's Angel!"

	Violence ensued. Down the hall, Kuonji Inji listened to 
the crashing, shook his head, and went up to prepare for 
breakfast.

* * * *

	Genma sat at the table and stared at the plate before 
him.

	"Scones?" he finally said.

	"With lemon marmalade and apricot bits," Kuonji said 
pleasantly. "They go well with the orange pekoe I've made us. 
Do try one."

	Glancing at Kiri and Soun, who sat on either side of him, 
Genma picked up the scone. The four of them were on deck, 
where Inji had set up a pleasant little table decked with a 
white linen cloth and lace doilies. A somewhat-dented teapot, 
flanked by pots of honey and marmalade, stood steaming in the 
center next to a basket of wonderful-smelling apricot scones.

	He bit into his. He'd never actually had one of the things 
before, and now regretted that fact. It was delicious.

	"Mmmmugh," he said, chewing. "These are good. Where'd 
they come from?"

	"Thank you," Inji said. "I made them."

	Genma almost spat it out. "You?"

	The gangster/archeologist shrugged casually. "I cook. 
Everyone needs a hobby or two." He glanced at the others. "Go 
on, eat. They're good, as Mr. Kasigi said."

	Kiri nodded, biting into one. "I remember these." She 
paused to chew and swallow. "Not half bad. The apricot's new."

	"Do you think? I learned that one last year. And I've added 
a bit more flour and a touch less sugar."

	"An improvement," Kiri said. Genma just stared, trying to 
shake a growing sense of unreality. The picture of Inji baking 
scones just couldn't quite appear in his mind, no matter how 
hard he tried. And you weren't supposed to discuss baking with 
vicious killers.

	"I do believe in setting a good table," Inji said cheerfully. 
"It's only polite. A beautiful morning, isn't it?" He waved a 
hand at the sunny expanse of the Mekong. "I take it back, 
Kiritsubo. A beautiful place for a vacation. I trust you and your 
lover have been enjoying yourselves?"

	Genma's eyes bulged. Her WHAT? Soun began to choke on 
his scone.

	"Yeah," Kiri said with a sickly grin. "Real romantic."

	Something horrible was going on, Genma decided. But it 
was probably a cover story of some sort, and all he could do 
was go along with it. "Romantic," he echoed. "It was a good 
idea, Kiri."

	"Kasigi? You're Kiritsubo's lover?" Soun said in a faintly 
appalled voice. "You are going to tell Nodoka, I assume?"

	"I am not Kiri's lover," Genma said impatiently. Or was 
that the story? "Er, am I? Sorry, maybe I am?"

	"No, you are not," Kiri said, making frantic motions at 
him. "It's, uh, my lover. You know, the one I share my cabin 
with?"

	Soun spewed a mouthful of tea across the table. "You and 
N... N... the baggage? What?"

	Inji blinked. "Why on earth would she be in love with 
luggage?"

	"Baggage?" Kiri said, voice rising. "Are you suggesting 
something about my woman?"

	"Ah, look," Genma began. 

	"She is not your woman!" Soun bellowed. "She's mine!"

	Inji blinked again, looking confused. "She's your woman, 
but you refer to her as baggage? No wonder Kiri was able to 
seduce her away."

	"Kasigi!" Soun screamed. "This is all your fault! You've 
driven her to lesbianism!"

	"She is not a lesbian, and it's not my fault!" Genma 
snapped back. "He glanced at Kiri worriedly. "Is she?"

	"Yes!" Kiritsubo hissed. "You've got one perverted 
girlfriend... er. I have one perverted girlfriend, I mean."

	"So she's Kasigi's girlfriend as well?" Inji said. "I think 
I'm getting a headache."

	"How can I face Saotome-sensei now?" Soun moaned. 
"How can I tell him I lost to... to... HER?"

	"This is stupid!" Kiri screamed. "Put a sock in it, both of 
you, before I beat your thick skulls in!"

	Inji clucked. "This is getting vexing. Which of you, 
exactly, is Nodoka's partner?"

	"I am!" Genma said without thinking, and heard Kiri and 
Soun say the same thing.

	Then he realized exactly what Inji had asked them.

	"As amusing as this has been, it's rude to keep people 
waiting, don't you think?" Inji said mildly. He snapped his 
fingers, and the hatch leading below opened. Two of the 
guerillas emerged, a pale-looking Nodoka between them. "Ah, 
Miss Nezumi. We meet again. Do forgive me for not inviting you 
to breakfast earlier, but don't worry. There are still some 
scones left."

	Genma rose to his feet, noticing that Soun was doing the 
same. Then he heard the clacking of rounds being chambered 
behind him.

	"We're not done with breakfast," Inji said reprovingly. 
"Why don't you sit back down? You too, Miss Nezumi."

	Slowly they sank back down into their chairs. You 
couldn't fight a bullet.

	"Much better," Inji said as Nodoka nervously sat down at 
the table. "Really, you people aren't very good at this. After the 
success that Kiri and Miss Nodoka had in that little card game 
in Ant Town, I was expecting this to be much harder." He 
smiled. "Or maybe that was just plain dumb luck."

	"Or maybe we're too subtle for you, and you'll never see 
our real plan until it's too late," Genma said, trying to sound 
casual.

	"An interesting thought, but I rather doubt it," Inji said 
airily. "Now. Should I remove Miss Nodoka's fingers now, or 
wait until breakfast is done?"

	"You coward!" Soun snarled. "Threatening a woman with 
something like that! Have you no shame?"

	Inji thought for a second. "Hmm... Kiri, do I have any 
shame?"

	"Not really."

	Inji spread his hands sadly. "I'm afraid I don't have any, 
no. I do have some Grey Poupon, if you like."

	Soun sputtered, his face beginning to color, and Genma 
sucked in his breath. Soun was building up a massive charge of 
indignation, the prerequisite to the fearsome Righteous Seven 
Demons Wrath ki attack.

	This had good and bad points. The good point was that it 
could probably send Inji falling to the deck in a quivering, 
gibbering heap, which was a pleasant mental image. The bad 
part was that the guerilla, out of the full effect of the 
technique, would probably shoot. 

	"How about pride?" Genma said, an idea forming in his 
head.

	"Pride? Oh, yes, pride I do have," Inji said. 

	Genma nodded. "I'll make a deal with you, then. Fight me. 
If you win, you can do what you want with us. If you lose, you 
and your goons get off the boat without hurting anyone."

	"Interesting. Why should I?"

	"Because if you don't, it means you weren't sure who 
would win," Genma said.

	Inji clucked. "Or it means I didn't feeling like fighting on 
such a nice day."

	"Besides, it'll get our hopes up. You do want to be a good 
host, right?" Genma said, hoping that Soun would follow his 
reasoning and hold off for just a few more minutes.

	Chuckling, Inji stood. "Oh, very well. I do feel like a bit of 
exercise, I admit."

	"Right. One second." He turned to Kiri and Soun, and 
pitched his voice low. "Kiri, would he keep that deal?"

	"He might," Kiri said. "Then again, he might not. Inji puts 
more value on debts than on verbal promises, and he owes 
Nodoka a mauling." She looked up at him, face worried. "Don't do 
this, Genma. I wasn't joking when I said that I didn't think you 
could beat him."

	"We don't have any choice," Genma said. "Soun... no, don't 
break your concentration... wait until his goons have their guns 
pointing somewhere else, and then blast em with that pompous 
demon thing. They're the real threat here."

	"No, they ain't," Kiri hissed, her voice strained. "I mean 
it, Genma. Be very careful."

	He gave her a winning smile. "Don't worry, Kiri. I'm taking 
him seriously. I'm just taking myself seriously too."

	"Then you're the only one here who is," she growled. 
"Okay, fine, fight him. Try not to get dead."

	Nodoka gave him a wan smile. "Genma, dear, please beat 
the nice man to a paste for me? Please?"

	"Anything for you," Genma said grandly. Straightening, he 
strolled over to where Inji waited. "Ready when you are, 
Kuonji."

	"No. No, I doubt you are."

	The knife moved faster than his eye could track, 
whipping out of Inji's jacket in a silver arc and stabbing 
towards his chest. Genma desperately tumbled to the side as 
Inji thrust, one hand jabbing out to try to punch the 
archeologist.  He felt something cut a hot line along his arm, 
and lashed out with a flurry of spinning kicks intended to 
shield a retreat.

	Inji seemed to go from moving blur to stationary in a 
heartbeat; stopping just outside of Genma's range. He absently 
look at the knife in his hand; a two-pronged stiletto. It had 
blood on it. "Interesting. Better than I'd expected."

	Genma stood ready, mind numb with shock. He was 
registering a shallow cut on one arm, a slash along his side, a 
torn bit of cloth along one sleeve - all superficial injuries, 
none very deep, but ones that had almost been much, much 
worse. And he hadn't managed to so much as touch Inji in 
response. Hell, he'd barely been able to SEE Inji!

	Genma mentally adjusted his options. He usually relied on 
superior speed and agility; that wasn't an option here. 
Exchanging hit for hit wasn't attractive either; one good stab 
from that knife could prove fatal, especially in the middle of 
the jungle. That left endurance and defense.

	"Not bad," he said casually. "I've never fought a ballet 
dancer with a knife before."

	Inji chuckled. "Thank you. For my next number, I'll carve 
the score to Swan Lake on your brainpan." He gave a mocking 
bow, and then...

	Genma leaped backwards as the attack came, desperately 
trying to track the silver blur slashing towards him. Frantic, 
acting more on instinct than conscious thought, he gave ground, 
covering his retreat with a series of jabs, kicks, and attacks 
that never quite seemed to connect. The knife grazed him once, 
twice, a third time...

	And then Inji stopped advancing, pulling back with a 
speed so abrupt it was almost jarring to watch. He looked 
_relaxed_, Genma noticed with horror. He wasn't even 
breathing hard. "Not bad, Mr. Kasigi. Very fluid style. I like the 
short punches."

	"Thank you," Genma said, trying to keep from panicking. 
He was bleeding from eight cuts, none very deep, but still... if 
this went on, there could be only one ending. 

	"But as fascinating as this is, I think it's time to end 
this. Goodbye. I'm glad you liked my scones."

	He started to move forward in the blur of attack, and 
then the shooting started.

	Inji and Genma both hurled themselves to the deck as 
machinegun-fire raked the air. Crouching by the rail, Genma 
saw Kiri, Nodoka, and Soun all vanish behind the overturned 
table. The guerrillas were screaming, running towards the bow, 
and exchanging fire with a boat approaching from upriver.

	Right, he thought, time to go. He crawled swiftly but 
gingerly across the deck, wincing once as a steam of bullets 
splintered the deck a few feet away from him, and ducked 
behind the table. "What's going on?"

	"We're being shot at," Nodoka said curtly. "Again. Why 
doesn't anyone seem to like us?"

	"Maybe it's our breath," he replied. "Couldn't have 
happened at a better time, though." He nodded to Kiri. "You were 
right. He is good."

	"Oh no," Soun groaned. Genma's eyes followed the lanky 
martial artist's shaking finger to where the crew was pulling 
the tarpaulins off what they had assumed to be deck cargo.

	"Nice artillery piece," Kiri said. "Looks like they mean to-"

	There was an explosion, and a large part of the hostile 
ship vanished in a ball of flame and wood splinters.

	"Oh. Wow," Kiri concluded, eyes slightly wide. "Big gun."

	"Down!" Genma yelled. They all went flat as a heavy 
machine gun sawed off the upper half of the table in a shower 
of sawdust.

	"Do something!" Nodoka screamed at him.

	"Like what?" he screamed back. "Challenge the gatling to 
single combat?"

	"KASIGI!" Soun bellowed. "Shield Nodoka with your body!" 
He paused. "I mean, no! Shield her with someone else's body!"

	"Not mine, please," Kiri snapped. She glanced up. "Hey, are 
those helicopters?"

	A tree on the nearby bank exploded into a fireball.

	"Yup, with rocket launchers," she said. "Can we please get 
the hell outta Dodge?"

	"Sounds good to me," Genma said. "We'll make a break for 
the-" A terrible thought struck him. "Oh no. Where's Takashi?"

	"Who cares?" Nodoka and Kiri chorused.

	"I'm right here. Follow me, please," Takashi commented.

	The other four turned to stare at where he lay hunkered 
between Kiri and Soun. "When did you get here?" Nodoka hissed.

	"Just now. Please, hmm, this way." With that, Takashi 
took out a submachine gun, aimed it at the deck, and held down 
the trigger for slightly over a minute.

	When the smoke cleared, he calmly kicked out the 
circular hatch the bullets had cut and vanished into it. Nodoka 
and Kiri followed, nearly tumbling over each other in their 
hurry. Soun and Genma just stared at the hole.

	"Should we, Kasigi?"

	"I'm honestly not sure, Tendo."

	The bow vanished in an eruption of fire, steel, and 
shattered wood.

	"Let's haul ass, Tendo."

	"Right you are, Kasigi."

	They hastily scrambled down the hatch. Above them, 
flames began to spread across the deck.

	The hatch emerged in one of the holds, where Takashi 
was fumbling with a pair of long metal cylinders attached to a 
steel rowboat. Nodoka and Kiri had already taken seats inside 
it. Lacking any better ideas, Soun and Genma ambled over to sit 
across from them.

	"Hi."

	"Hi."

	Silence fell, punctuated only by the not-terribly-distant 
sound of screaming, automatic weapons, and concussion 
grenades.

	"What is sitting here supposed to accomplish?" Genma 
finally asked. 

	Nodoka shrugged. "Takashi told us to get in. It's a better 
plan than ours."

	"Why, what was yours?"

	"We didn't have one."

	Takashi finished his tinkering and swung agily into the 
boat, a long tube under one arm. "Capital. Shall we depart?"

	"Depart how?" Soun snapped. "What are we to do, row out 
of the hold?"

	"Not at all. We shall simply use this, hmm, improvised 
but perfectly reliable propulsion method to make our 
departure."

	Kiri's eyes grew wide. "Hey... hey, those things on the 
boat are rockets!"

	Takashi nodded serenely.

	"ARE YOU MENTAL?" she screamed. "YER GONNA FLATTEN 
US AGAINST THE SIDE OF THE HOLD, YOU UPPER-CRUST 
NUTBALL!"

	"Not at all," Takashi said calmly. He raised the tube to 
his shoulder. "Please duck."

	Kiri dived to the floor. Takashi pulled a trigger.

	With a whoosh, a projectile flew from one end of the 
tube, flew towards the far end of the hold....

	"Down!" Genma screamed. They took his advice.

	The other end of the cargo hold exploded.

	Then Takashi pulled the two lanyards.

	With a roar, the two surface-to-air missiles intended for 
sale to the Viet Cong ignited, lurched once, and then soared 
into the inferno, taking the boatload of screaming martial 
artists with them.

* * * *

	The captain of the government patrol boat was not a 
happy man. 

	The second boat in his flotilla was a burnt-out wreck, 
one of the support choppers had been shot down, and the 
guerrilla craft was still exchanging fire with them. His men 
had taken the deck gun out of commission, but the pirates were 
stubbornly hammering away with automatic weapons and an 
anti-air gun instead of doing the intelligent thing and 
surrendering. Well, maybe not so intelligent, since they'd just 
shoot them anyway.

	"Soon have them settled," his exec said. He nodded. Not 
much left in this rabble. They were beaten; they were just too 
stupid to realize it yet. He would educate them.

	"More fire to the aft!" he shouted to his gun crew. The 
crew chief snapped off a hasty salute and began bellowing 
orders at his men, who swiveled the tiny artillery piece to 
bear on the rear of the pirate vessel. A few more hits, and 
resistance should be over...

	The bow of the pirate barge exploded.

	The captain turned and opened his mouth to berate the 
crew for their poor shot placement. Then he realized that the 
gun hadn't fired.

	And then all hell broke loose.

	From the blazing bow shot a strange projectile with two 
cylinders on each side. As the captain watched in disbelief, it 
soared into the air, and then started to descend... right... 
towards....

	The captain and the exec screamed as one, and jumped 
over the side seconds before the craft zoomed through the 
space they had been occupying. It swept along the deck, sending 
panicked crewmen flying, and finally broke through the aft rail 
to vanish under the surface of the Mekong with a titanic 
splash.

	A stunned silence fell across the river. The captain 
bobbed to the surface, spat out a mouthful of river water, and 
stared at the exec. "What in the name of the devil's 
grandmother was that?"

	"The devil's grandmother is as good a guess as any, sir." 
The exec frowned. "Only..."

	"Yes?"

	"What does <AAAAAARGHDAMNYOUTAKASHIYOUBASTARD> 
mean?"

	The captain opened his mouth to hazard a guess, and then 
the horrible screaming thing burst from the water like a 
pyrotechnic dolphin, landed upon the surface in a shower of 
water, and bounced screaming down the river like a demented 
weasel on drugs.

	Thirty seconds later, the captain and the exec surfaced 
again.

	"Mr. Gyuu?"

	"Yes, sir?"

	"I quit."

	"Very good, sir."

-----------------------------

		It was a feeling I'm sure you're familiar with, son. 
	The gut feeling that you're better than this guy, that you 
	can beat him... but he isn't giving you time to figure out 
	how to do it. My first duel with Inji was like that. He was 
	so much faster than I was, and that was it - I had all the 
	advantages except the one critical one.

		That fight was one reason I've put such an emphasis 
	on speed and agility in your training. Mobility as a 
	cardinal virtue had always been one of my key concepts, 
	and Inji helped cement my opinion.

		Ukyou never really grasped that, I think. She had 
	potential - still does - but she let herself be focused 
	into a limited, stylized cumbersome weapon-school. 
	She'll never become what I'd hoped for; it's much too late 
	now. I suspect it was done on purpose, though it didn't 
	completely work.

		No, she'll never be what I hoped for, but it may be 
	that she is something much better. 

		But I digress. The trip. As I have said before, it 
	brought a lot of realizations. Painful, but necessary. Lies 
	and hidden secrets must be ripped away as soon as 
	possible, son. Hypocritical of me to say that, yes, but 
	much if not all of the good advice I've given you has been 
	hypocritical. Judge by the fruit, not the source.

		The longer you let them fester, the more they will 
	hurt when the inevitable revelation occurs. Think of the 
	wounds you and Akane inflicted on each other for over a 
	year. Think of the day on Jusendo, the second worst 
	moment of my life. Take this lesson to heart.

		And watch Kasigi Genma and his friends as they 
	roar, screaming in terror, down the Mekong. Poor boy. The 
	trip isn't over yet...