Ranma 1/2 : Ministry of Confusion
                              Part 12

           A Ranma 1/2 FanFic by Stefan "Twoflower" Gagne

     (Most characters copyright Rumiko Takahashi, obviously.  If
     I ever even considered claiming that these were my own
     characters I'd probably be thrown into a small cell where
     I'd be forced to eat my own lungs to live.)

-=-

     Ranma trudged along the rainy streets, her waterproofproof
shoes leaking nicely.

     Already changed into a female, insult was added to injury as
the cold rains prompted another spasm of sneezing.  Ranma reeled
from blow after blow, until finally her nose calmed down and
resumed freezing to death.

     Gee, tonight had taken a turn for the worse.  She makes a
perfectly ordinary mistake of falling into an occupied bathtub
and now she's homeless, fianceeless, and probably disowned from
the family.  Ranma had gone beyond 'angry' and was in new and
exciting levels of bitterness.

     She could see how Akane could misinterpret her actions,
though.  If Ranma was hentai enough she could have been peeking
on the tomboy, leering in far enough to fall in.  Certainly would
be normal behavior for a pervert, which Ranma wasn't.  Akane
didn't have to explode like that, though... Ranma played along
with Akane's anger, without much of an option... and now this. 
She hadn't wanted this to happen, but it had.

     As for what to do now...  she was just going to have to find
the silly tomboy.  Find her before someone else does.

     "Ah, Ranma," Yuriko waved from underneath a black umbrella. 
"Greetings.  I was just on my way down there.  What's up?"

     "Go away, Yuriko," Ranma politely requested.

     "Someone's copping an attitude.  Cheer up!  We've managed to
locate a new lead.  It's a bit earlier than I'd have liked, since
you just got off the last one, but I don't get to set the
schedule myself..."

     "Akane ran away," Ranma said, hands in her pockets.

     "...he's over at what did you say?" Yuriko halted.

     "Akane left.  We had an argument... she hit me... I yelled
at her... and she left.  That's why I'm out here instead of home
and dry and male."

     Yuriko's eyes practically popped out of their sockets.  "SHE
WHAT?  Damn!  Damn damn damn damn... DAMN.  This is bad, Saotome. 
Bad timing, bad karma.  Listen, I'll go look for her for you,
you've got a job to do.  Take this and read it."

     Yuriko reached inside her trenchcoat and pulled out a
manilla folder.  Ranma caught the underhand pass, and tucked the
file under an arm.  "What're you so hyped up about, Yuriko?  You
look like someone died.  You're paler than usual."

     "What do you think?  Akane's alone on the streets.  This is
BAD, Saotome!  BAD!  Do you know of anybody she might contact?  I
can look there first."

     "Don't panic, Yuriko.  She'll be okay and I'll find her
eventually.  She's not the kind of person that cowers in fear and
lets people walk all over her, you know, she's strong willed. 
Nobody'll mess with her."

     "I don't take chances.  Contacts?  Any?"

     "She said she met someone at a pizzeria," Ranma shrugged. 
"That's about all I know.  She might go see Gosunkugi or hole up
with Ryouga, wherever he is..."

     "I'll check local pizzerias.  You get cracking on that file. 
You know my number if you manage to catch the pervert in
question.  I'll go fire up the van and go on AkaneWatch(tm) while
you work.  I'm parked down the road," Yuriko said, fishing
through her pockets for car keys.  "I'll scan with the van and
keep the cellular line open for your call."

     "I told you, Yuriko, I'm gonna look for her.  There isn't a
problem."

     "Not now," Yuriko said.  "You've got work to do.  Get
cracking on that case, catch the guy, and call me.  You want the
truth, remember?  Don't even pretend you care more about Akane,
Saotome.  She hates you, you hate her.  You two just weren't
meant to be.  I'm headed off... remember, ring when you've got
him!"

     "Why, you..." Ranma started, but Yuriko was already several
meters down the road and accelerating, trenchcoat flapping behind
her.

     He did NOT hate her.  And she hopefully didn't hate him.

                              *

     "Akane, I'm running out of napkins," Wrong Way said, pulling
the next to the last one from the metal box on the table.

     "I know, I know," Akane said, wiping her eyes again. 
"Dammit, why am I crying?  I must be truly pathetic to be pouring
out like this over a baka like Ranma..."

     "Jeez, is he that bad?" WW asked.  "I thought, you know, you
two were starting to get along."

     "He's not BAD, just... bad," Akane said, sniffling back her
runny nose.  "I'm not exactly a poet, you know.  It's hard to
phrase.  Is it possible for a feeling to be negative and positive
at the same time?"

     "Don't ask me, I'm just as bad with words as you are," Wrong
Way laughed.  "I don't think any Akane is particularly good with
them.  You know who's actually a pretty good poet?"

     "Who?"

     "Ryouga-kun!" WW grinned.

     "Really?  I never would have figured..."

     "Aw, nobody sees the sensitive side of Ryouga extenders. 
Just the side that break rocks with its bare hands and likes to
tell people to shut up.  Really, deep down, they just want to be
loved.  Is that so wrong?"

     "I take it you two are doing well?"

     "Better than well.  I had a FEELING I knew him from before,
but it wasn't much more than a feeling until I found out the real
story.  I'm so glad he got rid of those weird inhibition things. 
They don't sound like much fun.  Anyway, yeah... we were
delivering pizzas together today.  We almost got under the thirty
minute limit."

     "Sounds like you're doing okay," Akane nodded.  "You're very
lucky... as for me..."

     Wrong Way immediately picked up the tone of Akane's voice. 
"Hey, hang in there.  Look, you're an Akane.  Do what I do when I
get mad, depressed, resentful, whatever; hit something.  Hit
something really hard."

     "Usually I just hit Ranma..."

     "Hmm.  That's your problem," WW said.  "See, if you let it
out against things that can't hit or talk back or even complain,
things are cool.  But if you're unloading on your fiancee it's
not as cool.  It would explain the trouble you're having with
him."

     "No, the trouble is because he's an idiot," Akane said
flatly.  "He keeps insulting me.  Calls me a violent maniac."

     "Because you hit him."

     "Yes.  No!  No.  Maybe.  ARGH!" Akane groaned.  "I wish I
could just sort this mess out and go home, but that's not an
option..."

     "Eh?  Why?  No key?"

     "No, Mr. Saotome would probably let me in," Akane said. 
"It's just a matter of principle, you know?  I directly said I
was leaving.  You just don't go back on stuff like that."

     "Because it'd be admitting you were wrong."

     "Exactly."

     "And if you were wrong?" Wrong Way asked.

     "I'm never wrong!"

     "Uh-huh.  And I never get lost.  One thing I've learned
about being an Akane is that you have to fight the urge to assume
you're always correct about everything."

     "Quit talking about yourself like that.  It's like you're in
my head."

     "More like I've got a part of your head."

     "Stop that!"

     "Yeesh.  Someone hasn't been reading their copy of 'Coping
with Clonehood'," WW tisk tisked.  "Akane, trust me about this. 
The key to overcoming your own ego here is to apologize
occasionally."

     "Apologize for what?"

     "Hitting Ranma... calling him a pervert... calling him a
moron... generally being rude and unpleasant.  And in turn, he'll
apologize for calling you a tomboy and a violent maniac."

     "It can't be that easy," Akane said.  "I mean, it's what we
do.  We yell and abuse each other.  How is it possible to just
stop that?"

     "If you both want to stop, you'll stop.  Easy as that,"
Wrong Way said.  "You know, I wonder if I got a little of Ryouga-
kun's insight along with his sense of direction.  He's quite
clever, but keeps to himself.  He's not that verbal beyond cute
little grunts and enraged protests..."

     "Where is he, anyway?"

     "Completing a final delivery," Wrong Way said.

     "The pizzeria is closing?"

     "No, we're just not allowed to deliver anymore," WW frowned. 
"The manager said we were hurting his profit margin with all
these free pizzas.  Ryouga-kun and I are going to be full time
cook and waitress instead... him cooking, of course, I admit
Akanes aren't very good in the kitchen."

     "I cook fine."

     "No you don't.  There's that always-right coming into play. 
Fight it, Akane.  Overcome Akane Tendo's personality problems,"
WW suggested.  "Speaking of fighting, wanna hear something really
neat?"

     "What?"

     "We saw this really huge painting earlier.  I had to bop
Ryouga one for staring too long, but it was apparently an ad for
recruits to the Ministry of Confusion.  You know, the...
terrorists?"

     "I've heard," Akane nodded.

     "Apparently Ryouga was hooked up with them earlier.  He's
going to mail them to ask if we can get in again."

     "You want to be a terrorist?"

     "No, I want to do the Ministry of Peace a bad turn.  I heard
they really gave Ryouga-kun a hard time... anybody who'd do those
kinds of things to a human being doesn't deserve to run 1/4th of
the government.  Besides, I've got nothing else to do on my
Wednesday nights.  You want to join too?"

     "I... I don't think that'd be possible," Akane said.  "I've
sort of got other obligations."

     "Fair enough.  That's the last napkin, by the way."

                              *

     One nice thing about this curse, Ranma thought, was that ANY
hot liquid with a water base would do the trick.  Sure, he
smelled like old coffee, but at least his gender was back to its
original form.  Ranma sat under an overhang at the local
suspicious looking coffee house, perusing the file Yuriko had
passed over.

     He couldn't make out much.

     The folder itself was waterproofed, fireproofed, and could
withstand being run over by a taxi at least six times.  Standard
Ministry of Data stock folder paper, the kind you could get from
any stationary store in town.  The papers inside were
fireproofed... but not waterproofed.

     The ink had smeared, leaving most of the pages as big black
globs that resembled lettering.  The characters were smeared
beyond recognition, bleeding through the sheets.  No readability
whatsoever.

     At least the photo hadn't been ruined, Ranma noted, pulling
it out of the thick paper pulp blob that had formed inside the
folder.  The picture was kind of fuzzy, as if the subject was
running at high speed, but if you looked hard enough the guy
seemed to resemble that man coming down the street.

     Ranma paused, tumbling that last thought in his mind like a
pachinko machine rolling down a hill.  Man?  The street?  He
looked up.

     Sure enough, there was the guy in question; standing at
about one point five feet, carrying a large bag of something,
with the same unmistakable bumps on his head and moon-sized eyes. 
He resembled an IT more than a HE... like some wind up toy gone
out of control.  A thundering horde of women were chasing him,
carrying brooms, mops, purses, switchblades and fully automatic
weapons.  What luck!  Ranma pushed the useless scrap paper aside
and got ready.

     The man skittered into the coffee shop and under a table,
dodging gunfire as bullets ricocheted off the pavement.  The
women charged onward, yelling and screaming bloody murder and
perverts, passing right by the greasy spoon in their combined
rage.

     "Honestly!" the man exclaimed, in an annoying little voice,
like a blackboard scraped across someone's fingernails.  "It's
just ten measly bras, you'd think nobody would miss them..."

     "Hey, mister, are you the guy in this photo?" Ranma asked,
bending down to show the diminutive thing.

     The man looked away from the street, and turned around to
examine the photo.  "Hrm.  Not a bad likeness.  I believe that
was taken two nights ago at 9:45:22 PM exactly, judging by the
position and velocity.  Damn, I'm a sharp dresser!"

     "Alright, just making sure," Ranma nodded, grabbing the man
by the arms and thrusting him upwards against the bottom of the
table.  The man's head struck the undersurface evenly, putting
him out like a light.

     Target disabled and ready to pickup.  Easy as pie.

     Ranma whistled a dark little tune and skipped over to the
phone, fishing in his pockets for change.  Get Yuriko to snatch
whoever this guy is, then go get Akane.  If he hurried he might
be able to catch her before--

     Something hooked over his right shoulder, jerking him
backwards and to the floor before he could blink.  The ground
impacted nice and hard against his skull, sending bolts of pain
throughout his body.

     "Youth today," the man muttered, sitting on the table he had
just been smashed against, smoking the pipe he used to pull Ranma
backwards.  "No respect for their elders.  Simply NONE.  Boy, you
need to be taught some manners.  What's your name?"

     "Ranma," Ranma scowled, peeling himself from the pavement. 
"Ranma Saotome.  As for YOU..."

     Happousai hopped off the table before Ranma's punch split it
neatly in two.  "Saotome, you say?  Wow!  Who'd have known?"

     "Known what?" Ranma asked, rebounding himself off the table
to stomp the little man flat.  The shrimp blocked with his index
finger, and easily knocked Ranma across the coffee house, landing
in a bank of chairs with a resounding clatter.

     "An idea forms," the man said.  "Yes, a good idea.  You'll
do quite well; this way, I get my revenge on Genma as well!"

     "Hold still so I can pound you!" Ranma demanded, throwing
some chairs off of himself.

     "Catch, boy!" the man yelled, tossing an object at Ranma. 
He caught it instinctively before it exploded, turning his brain
off for a few hours.

                                   *

     Ranma readjusted his focus, brain slowly waking up from a
forced sleep.  He didn't notice the needle in his arm until it
was out.

     "That'll do it, yeah," the man said, needle vanishing
without a trace as he pulled his arm away.  "I probably should
have just cold cocked you instead of using a grenade... less
damage to clean up.  Sorry about that, Ranma m'boy."

     "Why, you--" Ranma started, getting up from his chair.  Less
than an inch he had moved before a powerful electrical jolt rang
through his system like a broken gong, pushing him backwards.  A
taste of copper flooded his mouth, overwhelming.

     "I took the liberty of tying you up with a little toy I
liberated in my escape," the man said, pointing to the wires
crisscrossing Ranma's body.  "Devilish little Ministry of Peace
item.  The wires are quite easy to rip, but the more you try, the
stronger the zap.  I have no idea what they use it for, and
frankly, I don't want to know.  Anyway, you're patched up now; I
grafted some new skin for the more serious burns and I had to
replace your left hand... it took hours to find the parts and
customize them to fit you without noticeable flaws..."

     "WHAT?"

     "My fault, my fault," the man said, taking another tug at
his pipe.  "Don't worry, you're in tip top shape and ready to get
working.  I don't want you DEAD, Saotome.  You're too useful
alive."

     "What're you talking about, you... whatever you are?"

     "Name's Happousai.  We haven't met formally," he nodded.  "I
used to train your father.  What a whiner he was!  Just like you. 
'What?' 'I don't understand.' 'Die, old man!' 'Ouch.'  'Do I have
to pay your restaurant bill EVERY time, master?' 'Can we rest
now?' 'I'm sick of stealing underwear!'  Such insolence!  I see
you're just as rebellious as he was..."

     "You little--" Ranma started, instinctively reaching out to
throttle Happousai.  A stronger jolt of energy pressed him back
down, the smell of zinc flooding his nose.

     "See what I mean?  And just as ungrateful!  Here I am using
my extensive human anatomy database connections to repair you and
the best you can do is half formed sentences.  That's some of my
finest medical work on you.  My only medical work, really."

     "YOU'RE the one that bombed me!"

     "For which I have apologized.  It's in the past, Ranma my
boy," Happousai said.  "What's done is done.  For now, I need
your help.  I understand you were hoping to take me back to your
little friend and get me dissected, en?"

     "What little friend?"

     "I have a link to the Ministry of Data computer systems,"
Happousai said, tapping one of his forehead bumps.  "You'd be
amazed what they have sitting out in the open under seventeen
password locks.  That's besides the point, however, since your
life is about to change considerably; Ranma, I need to ask you a
favor."

     "What's that?" Ranma asked, in contempt.

     "Underwear," Happousai said, reaching into a nearby green
bag and pulling out a bra.  "I need more.  LOTS more.  Only it's
got the be USED, you see?  It's the combination of pheromone and
the fireproofing chemical they use nowadays.  It's the only
substitute I can find for what I need, as much as I hate to see
my silky darlings go to waste..."

     "What're you talking about, old man?"

     "What what what!" Happousai yelled, hopping up and bapping
Ranma repeatedly on the head with his pipe.  "Just like your
father, so inquisitive.  So demanding of knowledge I don't feel
like offering.  Alright, if I have to explain EVERYTHING, I will,
just this once.  Did your daddy dearest ever mention me?"

     "I think I would have remembered a freak like you."

     "I'll take that as a no.  Makes sense; he thought I was
dead, suffocated in that cave.  He's very, very lucky that the
Ministry of Peace found me before my air ran out.  Of course, I'm
not the Happousai he used to know.  I am enhanced."

     "How so?"

     "I'm a Happousai extender," he grinned.  "The only one of my
kind, and also the only one of my kind.  Observe."

     With that, Happousai pulled his chest open, and stuffed the
bra he was holding inside his rib cage.

                              *

     Yuriko pounded on the door of the pizzeria, clutching a wad
of computer printout in her hand.  According to Ministry files,
this was the place; map information wasn't very hard to come by,
but executing a goto on Tomboy Akane Saotome to figure out who
she could know that worked at one was trickier.  Yuriko was 98%
sure she had the right place, though.

     The door opened, Akane leaning out.  "May I help you?"

     "Hi," Yuriko waved.  "Ranma is looking for you.  I'll take
you to him."

     "Me?" Akane asked.  "Why would he be looking for me?"

     "I don't have any time to explain," Yuriko said, grabbing
Akane by the wrist.  "Come on, I've got a van waiting."

     "But I've got to wait for--"

     "Trust me, Akane, you're too important to let run around
like this," Yuriko said.  "You can't put yourself at any risk, no
matter what.  Got that?"

     "Uhh... yeah," Akane said.  "Look, whoever you are--"

     "Good," Yuriko said, opening the passenger side door. 
"Let's go."

                              *

     Ranma gaped at Happousai's mechanical and electronic
workings, as the bra was pulled from his hands by a pair of gears
and piped throughout the mechanisms inside.  Eventually there was
a wet PLOP, and Happousai closed his front access panel.

     "You're a ROBOT?!" Ranma asked, astonished.

     "I prefer the term artificial person myself," Happousai
said.  "I was lucky enough to fit the exact properties the
Ministry of Peace wanted for one of their little experiments; I
was an expert in fighting, I was short enough not to be noticed,
and I was supposed to be dead.  My brain spent roughly a decade
in a support tank as their little science monkeys worked on
making the ultimate extender; one with the superhuman abilities
of an cyborg and the mind of a human."

     "I don't get it.  What do you want me for?"

     "The first question is, what do you want ME for?" Happousai
asked.  "You caught me offguard at first, before I could hook up
to the MoP files and see who you were and why you did that.  They
know you're onto them, you know.  If Kodachi wanted to, she could
remove you from the picture like that."

     "I think I know.  Yu... my friend is looking for evidence
like you," Ranma said.  "Evidence of MoP secret projects.  You
know, if you came with me, you could help me put and end to what
they're doing once and for all..."

     "Ugh!  Legal channels.  I don't think so, Saotome my lad. 
My revenge on them has to be far... sweeter.  In particular, I'm
seeking THIS!"

     Happousai grabbed a rolled up picture from behind Ranma's
chair, unrolling it six or seven inches from Ranma's eyes.  It
was a Ministry of Peace recruitment ad, featuring Kodachi in her
gymnast best; a green leotard, with a blue ribbon strangling some
generic Russian guerrilla toting a rifle.  JOIN THE MINISTRY OF
PEACE AND PUT A CHOKEHOLD ON EVIL, the caption read.

     "You want to join the army?" Ranma asked, confused.

     "Not the caption, silly.  The LEOTARD," Happousai.  "I want
the LEOTARD.  Kodachi is the one that gave me this ridiculous
power cell, with such stringent fuel requirements... her way of
keeping me around, since without her juice I'd die in a day. 
I've had to synthesize the chemical from human sweat and the
fireproofing chemical clothing is soaked in.  To wit, I eat
underwear, five bras or panties a day.  She made me this way, so
I'm going to get some fuel directly from her person.  Her leotard
would taste so incredible..."

     "Why not eat socks or something like that?"

     "Why devour fast food when you can have a gourmet meal?"
Happousai asked, rolling up the poster.  "There's a certain bliss
that comes when my engines process new chemicals.  Underwear
tastes the best, and the leotard of your enemy is the ultimate
dish... But the leotard is for later.  I'll need more help than
just you to manage that.  Until then, I need SOMEONE to assist me
in staying alive day to day... someone to help me on panty
raids."

     "Forget it, you pervert," Ranma spat, making sure not to
trigger the wires.  "I'm not a hentai like you."

     "But who better to help me out than Genma's own son?  You'll
be filling the role he ditched so many years ago.  The next
generation following in the footsteps of the previous one."

     "My dad does NOT steal underwear!"

     "He did if he wanted me to feed him.  It wasn't the best of
working relationships, but it gave him a reason to train and it
got me more of my silky darlings.  So how about, Ranma?  Help me
pilfer a few panties.  It's a fun and rewarding future.  I can
teach you martial arts techniques like you've never known..."

     "Absolutely not," Ranma replied.

     "Darn," Happousai grumbled.  "Oh well.  I guess you can go
then."

     "What?"

     "WHAT WHAT WHAT!" Happousai yelped, bapping Ranma again. 
"Always with the whats.  Yes, go.  I've shut off the wires by
remote.  Feel free to rip them and go back to your mundane life. 
At least I tried."

     Ranma gave the wires a test push, finding no resulting
shock.  He pushed harder, making the wires snap easily; they fell
to the ground, allowing him to get up.  Shrugging the shrug of
the confused but pleased, he walked over to the door.

     "On second thought, STOP RIGHT THERE," Happousai boomed, in
a voice louder than Ranma's ears could comfortably withstand. 
Ranma froze in his tracks, voice echoing around his mind, keeping
him from lifting a foot.

     "Arrrhgghg..." he groaned, shaking the sound from his head. 
"I can't... move..."

     "Here, have a look in a mirror," Happousai offered, climbing
atop a table to hold a mirror in front of Ranma.  He turned to
look, and was alarmed to see a thin wire sticking up from behind
his head.

     "Another of Kodachi's toys," Happousai said, pulling the
mirror away.  "She had them installed in some sort of ten man
camouflage / disguise unit.  I removed the group communication
filters, because I don't want you in MY head.  What's left works
like this : I give an order, and you follow it.  Simple, ne?  I
installed it while you were out.  Very easy when you've got
access to MoD files on biology..."

     "You're gonna order me around?" Ranma said.  "Unlikely.  I
don't take lip from anyone."

     "Shame, you don't have a choice, for instance, STAND ON YOUR
HEAD.  Good boy!  Now BARK LIKE A DOG."

     "Arf," Ranma arfed pathetically.

     "We'll work on the specifics later.  For now, YOU MAY NOT
ATTACK ME and YOU MAY NOT RUN AWAY.  That should cover the
basics.  Get snotty with me and I'll tell you to shut up too or
sing something really awful until your voice cracks."

     "What would happen if I just grabbed this stupid antenna and
ripped it out?" Ranma asked, fingering the wobbling wire on his
head.

     "I don't know.  I don't think it'd be fun for you.  Look,
Ranma kid, life with me isn't that bad.  Just ask your father. 
So you have to go on panty raids, starve occasionally, clean up
after me and pay my bills!  Think of the martial arts I could
teach you."

     "Doesn't sound like a fair deal here."

     "You'll see soon.  Genma was a fool to leave me behind, but
his son might not be as foolish.  Now, FOLLOW ME, you've got some
work to do so I don't starve tomorrow."

                              *

     "What do you mean, you're not Tomboy Akane Saotome?!" Yuriko
gaped, after slamming on the van brakes in the middle of traffic.

     "I mean I'm not," Akane said.  "My name's Wrong Way... I
think you have me mixed up with one of my friends.  It's
perfectly understandable, miss, we are all alike--"

     "No you're not," Yuriko said.  "Arrrgh.  Did she try to
contact you tonight?"

     "Yes, she did."

     "SO WHERE IS SHE NOW?!"

     "Whoa!  Calm down, miss, please.  She got a phone call and
had to leave.  I suspect it was Mr. Saotome or Ranma calling her
to ask her to come home... although she didn't say."

     "Logs," Yuriko said, holding up two feet of printout from
the van's fax machine.  "The dojo hasn't received or made any
calls tonight."

     "You have Akane's house bugged?" Wrong Way asked, horrified.

     "Of course.  Both of those kids need to be watched so they
don't do anything stupid.  Anything like THIS.  Are you sure she
didn't say where she was going?"

     "Positive.  Look, can I get out now?  It's clear that I'm
not the Akane you're looking for, and I need to go home and wait
for my boyfriend to meet me..."

     "Yeah, whatever.  Here's my number," Yuriko said, pulling a
card out of the glove compartment.  "If you see Akane, you call
me."

     "Umm, ma'am, is this your name?" Wrong Way asked, pointing
to the card's header.  "It's sort of--"

     "Don't tell ANYBODY where you got that card, it's my
personal line," Yuriko warned.  "Can you find your way back
home?"

     "Not really, but I'll be okay," Wrong Way said, opening the
door.  "I'll call you if I find Akane."  She climbed out of the
van, letting in the mad honks of taxis held up behind Yuriko's
van in with the door opening.

     Yuriko slammed the horn to annoy the taxis, then floored the
gas.  Tonight was not turning out well.  Hopefully Ranma would
catch the pervert so she'd have some real evidence, and get
herself and Ranma out of this mess... and Akane, too.  Things
could only get better, after all.

     The van's phone beeped quickly, Nabiki's emergency signal.

     "Trouble," Nabiki said through the phone speaker, before
Yuriko had even picked up.  "Ministry of Peace just started
tracking Happousai.  Apparently he's been ringing bells across
the network, poking databases, looking for information.  It looks
like they're going to be able to catch him this time, considering
the manpower assigned.  Has Ranma gotten him yet?"

     "No, ma'am," Yuriko said.

     "Damn.  It's getting hot out there, Yuriko.  I recommend we
call this one off and get Ranma back.  Wait for Happousai to
escape the MoP again and track him later.  We can't risk them
tracking him and finding him at the Ministry of Economics."

     "Roger.  I'll track Ranma," Yuriko nodded, clicking on one
of the van's many monitors.  "DT out."

     "Don't get caught on camera this time, okay?" Nabiki added,
before the phone cut off.

                              *

     Ranma couldn't believe what he was doing.

     He was actually going through other people's laundry,
pilfering underwear.  He looked nervously around himself as he
followed orders; he couldn't not do it, but at least Happousai
hadn't ordered him to be obvious about it.

     Happy himself was perched on a nearby washer, giggling to
himself was Ranma picked out choice undergarments; namely, the
ones that smelled the most.  'It's better for my digestion if
they're VERY used,' Happousai had explained.  Digestion my ass;
the little pervert just wanted Ranma sniffing them for sheer
embarrassment value.

     "One more should do it," Happy said.  "And hurry, I think
the owner of this load is almost done playing the video games
over there."

     "There," Ranma said, grabbing a bra and stuffing it into
Happousai's green bag.  "That's the last."

     "Hey, you didn't sniff that one."

     "So?"

     "So what if it's too clean?  I could starve!  Your nose is
better than my cheap mechanical one.  Sniff it."

     "Oh, alright," Ranma grumbled, pulling it out of the bag
again, and holding it out in front of him like a dead fish.  He
sniffed very, very quickly and put it back.

     "AIEEEE!" a shriek came from the back of the laundromat. 
"UNDERWEAR THIEF!  HENTAI!  HELP, POLICE!"

     "That's your cue," Happousai reminded, hopping off the
washer and onto Ranma's shoulder.  "Let's GET OUT OF HERE, shall
we?"

     KRAK-KATHOOM.

     Ranma paused in his flat out run, just before reaching the
door.  The earlier storm was back, and in spades; water dumped
onto the road like so many thousand buckets.

     "What're you waiting for, Ranma?  GO!" Happousai ordered,
wire forcing Ranma on.

     Ranma panicked, unable to stop his hand from opening the
door and his feet from moving; the crowd of angry laundromat
clients swarmed over to the door, but stopped there.  Jaw's
dropped at Ranma's new appearance.  Nobody made a move to follow.

     "Hah!" Happousai nyahed, sticking his tongue at the crowd as
Ranma ran through the rain.  "Look shocked all you want!  It's
all MINE now!  Honestly, you can't get a good mob nowadays.  They
just don't have the motivation.  What surprised them so much,
anyway?"

     "Probably this," Ranma said, her voice coming out at a
higher pitch.

     Happousai turned back to Ranma, seeing a different hair
color.  "That's a new look for you.  Water-active dye?"

     "Sort of," Ranma grumbled.  "Can I stop running?"

     "STOP RUNNING, yeah," Happousai said, words slow with
suspicion.  "You've changed, Ranma.  Hmmm.  Let's give you a look
see..."

     Happousai hopped down, and examined Ranma.

     "HOT DAMN!" Happousai exclaimed, eyes bulging as they locked
on her breasts.  "That's REALLY a new look for you!  Oh, how
sweet!  How'd it happen?"

     "Mutation agent," Ranma mumbled.  "Can we get out of her
now?  I've probably already got a hentai reputation thanks to
you..."

     "Change of plans!" Happousai grinned evilly.  "Allow me a
moment to contemplate your future while resting in your bosom!"

     With that, the little man launched himself through the air,
attaching to Ranma's breasts like velcro.  Ranma yelled, chest
being mauled; she tried to whack the guy off, but her previous
orders wouldn't let her.  No attacking, no doing anything
physical he wouldn't like...

     "Now here's an idea.  A combination martial arts student,
panty thief AND kawaii girl!  And so healthy!" Happousai cheered,
patting Ranma.  "I like this idea even more.  It has many fun
possibilities.  Let's head back to my hovel and explore some of
those possibilities, hmm, sweet little thing?"

     "WHAT?!  No way!" Ranma said.  "This has got to end... I'm
not going to play your slave any more... NOR am I gonna let you
do whatever the hell you have in mind.  I won't, I won't, I
WON'T!"

     "You don't have much of a choice, Ranma-chan," Happousai
grinned, looking up from his resting spot on her being.  "Such a
spunky little girl!  What spirit."

     "I am NOT female!" Ranma protested.

     "Then what're these, hmm?" Happousai asked, rubbing Ranma
little more.  Ranma turned red, not with embarrassment, but with
anger.  "You'd probably look good in panties, you know..."

     Ranma cocked an ear to the winds, recognizing a familiar
sound.  A sly smile crossed her face.  "So, you like panties, do
you?"

     "But of course!" Happousai said.  "Established fact."

     "I bet you're getting rather... hungry," Ranma said, pulling
a pair of panties out of the bag.  "Want these?"

     "Ooooh!" Happousai exclaimed, eyes moving to the white
fireproof cotton in Ranma's hand.  "YEAH!  I could use a fix,
Ranma-chan.  Fork it over!"

     "Go fetch!" Ranma said, tossing the underwear on the road. 
PERFECT landing; one foot approximately from the lane division
line... and the sound growing closer...

     "MY SILKY DARLING!" Happousai shouted, unglomping Ranma's
breasts and diving for the road.  He was across the lane and
cuddling the panty just as the engine roar came close enough to
crush Happousai under the front and back wheels of a passing van.

     Happousai didn't even have enough time to scream before his
delicate cyborg body was torn to shreds, mangling his torso and
leaving his head to roll off to the curb.  The van's tires
squealed to a halt as the driver noticed this living speedbump.

     Yuriko hopped out of the van, scrambling over to the
wreckage of Happousai.  "I hope I didn't hit who I think I
hit..." she started.

     "Yuriko!" Ranma waved.  "Bad news.  The little hentai had an
accident.  Sorry."

     "Why did you do that?!  Argh.  Doesn't matter," Yuriko
dismissed.  "Get inside, we've gotta go.  Ministry of Peace is
three blocks behind us and gaining and we've gotta run run run."

     "Got it," Ranma nodded, opening the passenger side door and
entering.  Yuriko hopped in, threw it into drive and slammed the
gas, scattering cyborg bolts and gears behind the tires as the
van made it for the city horizon.

     Time passed.  Just a few moments; just enough for
Happousai's parts to come to a final resting place and settle,
just enough for the red van to reel around the corner and stop,
spilling soldiers onto the street.

     "Signal stops here," one of the soldiers said, waving a
tracker at the mess.  "Ugh.  Looks like someone got him.  Head's
intact, though, he can be rebuilt and retooled.  Someone get a
trash bag--"

     "AHA!" a happy little squeal emitted, ripping through the
air like safety scissors.  "Got you delinquents!"

     "What the--?  OH GOD, NOT HER!  OPEN FIRE, STUNNERS ON--"

     "HAPPO FIVE YEN SAT-SU!" she yelled, blasting the troops
with a beam of yellow light.  There was some screaming,
eventually dying down to the dull whumphs of non-peacefully
sleeping bodies on asphalt.

     "Much better," the older Miss Hinako said, pocketing her
coin.  "They seem calmer now, the delinquents."

     "Agreed," Jodan nodded, walking out of the alley the two
were hiding in.  "I'll go get the trash bag they had, you start
scooping up parts."

                              *

     "What do you MEAN, they got away!?" Kodachi shouted,
slamming a fist against her office desk.  It split into three
pieces minimum.

     "Err... sorry?" the senior officer offered.  "The team got
ambushed... we'll know who did it when they recover.  Whatever
hit them seems to have completely knocked the wind out of them,
it's not a pretty sight--"

     "Damn you, Nabiki!" Kodachi growled.  "You're starting to
get too close to my plans.  It's ruining my fun and complicating
matters.  If I can't kill Ranma darling, and I don't know who
this other agent of yours is, then... hmm.  Has the specialist
arrived yet?"

     "Yes'm, arrived a few minutes ago."

     "Nabiki's gone too far, prodded too deep.  It's time to
strike back at her, let her know I'm not ignoring her insolence
any longer.  Send the specialist in, I'll handle the briefing."

                              *

     "Well, that could have gone better," Yuriko shrugged,
turning a corner.  "Why'd you go and do a thing like that?  We
could have let MoP get the pervert back, then fetch him when he
inevitably escapes again.  Now he's useless.  And WHAT is that
ridiculous thing doing in your head?"

     "It's an antenna, like the Tsubasas had," Ranma said. 
"Happousai clocked me and stuck it in so I could be his slave.  I
had to do anything he liked... and when he found out about my
curse, and my femalehood..."

     Yuriko sat in silence.

     "Now you see why he had to die," Ranma commented.

     "Jeez.  Frankly, Saotome, I'd have done the same thing. 
Still, Nabiki will not be happ--"

     "Who?"

     Yuriko clamped a hand over her mouth, steering wobbling. 
"Damn... I didn't just say that.  You did NOT hear me just say
that."

     "Yes I did, Yuriko!  I KNEW Ministry of Economics was behind
this.  I knew it."

     "No!  It was a, whaddyacallit, Freudian slip."

     "Unlikely," Ranma grinned.

     "Okay, okay, so you know," Yuriko groaned.  "Look, Saotome,
keep it to yourself.  You know how I kept talking big about
removing you from the picture if you find out?  I don't want to
do that.  SHE does.  She's the coldest, most calculating little
fiend I've ever met... and she's got both of us by the balls."

     "You don't have any balls."

     "It's a figure of speech, okay?!" Yuriko exclaimed.  "Arrgh! 
I can't believe I SAID her name... Keep it to yourself, alright? 
If she found out you knew we'd both be up the creek.  Man oh man,
I was NOT expecting any of this crap when I signed on with her...
ARGH!!"

     Yuriko slammed the horn a few times for no apparent reason,
grimacing.  "Saotome, this whole mess is just getting bigger and
more complex day by day.  I hope we both come out of it safe and
sound.  It's getting to the point where I can't tell what'll
happen next, or what Kodachi'll do next, or what Akan-- AGH!"

     "What?  What?"

     "AKANE!  I forgot!  HOW could I have forgotten?  We still
have to find her."

     "I know, I know.  Don't worry, Yuriko, we'll find her.  Can
we please get this thing out of my head first, though?" Ranma
asked.

     "I can't think of any way to do that except with the medical
guys at MoE's Basement," Yuriko said.  "And I can't exactly bring
YOU there... hmmm.  I'll go park at the MoE.  You hide in the
back and I'll see if I can arrange a clandestine operation. 
Okay?"

     "Sounds fair here.  Then I don't care what Nabiki orders us
to do next, we look for Akane.  Deal?"

     "Deal," Yuriko nodded.  "You know, Saotome, I had you pegged
as a jerk from word one.  You're turning out okay.  Still a bit
annoying, but I can see where you're coming from.  I ID with ya,
you know."

     "You're not cursed to change genders," Ranma smiled.

     "Oh.  Yeah, that," Yuriko nodded.  "Don't worry, we've got
one last lead.  We get Akane, go get this guy, and you're male
again.  But first, time for a little fast food surgery."

                              *

     Yuriko took the secret elevator from the MoE garage down
sixteen floors, straight to the Basement.  It was a slow ride,
allowing plenty of time to think.

     Certainly Yuriko had enough swing with the medicals here to
get Ranma fixed up.  If not with her charming personality, but
with her blackmail material.  Let's see, Mel, the resident
biogeneticist was having an affair, and Leo kisses his dog on the
lips on a regular basis...

     Smoke pouring out of the Basement is not a good thing.

     Yuriko coughed through the cloud, trying to fumble around
for solid objects.  Something was very, very wrong... she should
be seeing the various experiments and projects Nabiki had them
doing, not the scene of broken glass, splintered furniture and
other destructive aftermaths...

     "DT!" Mel called from across the room, coughing.  "To the
elevator!  Now!"

     Yuriko nodded, and headed back.  Mel dove for the doors
before they closed, and the filters in the elevator sucked the
gas out of the chamber before ascending.

     "Aw, man, this is not good, this is not good..." Mel whined.

     "What happened, Mel?  WHAT HAPPENED?"

     "I don't know!" Mel protested.  "We were just going along
peacefully when the 'vater lands.  I guess someone had found the
entrance and managed to get by the security codes... I couldn't
see much other than the hammer swinging around, breaking
everything with incredible speed... the guy made short work of
anything that could be broken... some chemicals mixed and made
one hell of a fire, a fire that would even burn the
fireproofs..."

     "Someone totalled the place?  How'd they get in?"

     "I haven't the foggiest idea!  It happened so fast, nobody
could react... everybody evacuated, but I wanted to go get
whatever data I could escape with... I think I managed to save
Experiment-C and Experiment-P."

     Yuriko paused.  "What about J?"

     "What about it?"

     "WHAT DO YOU MEAN, WHAT ABOUT IT?!?!  What the hell happened
to Experiment-J?!"

     "All the jars broke, Yuriko!  The folders burned.  It's
gone.  There is no more Experiment-J."

     "That's impossible.  Nabiki PROMISED a cure... a cure for
Ranma for when he was done.  What now?  What do I do now?"

     "Lie?" Mel suggested.  "I can get why you'd be pissed, but
frankly there's nothing I could have done..."

     "Whatever.  I'll deal with this later.  I've got a patient
for you upstairs, Mel.  And unless you want your wife knowing
about Sarah from across down you'll arrange for a surgery pretty
damn pronto.  We've got work to do and we can't dawdle."

                         End of File
                         Ministry of Data record GH.3704.7734.12
                         Private use only