Ranma 1/2 : Ministry of Confusion
                              Part 14

           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.)

-=-

     Akane ran through the city streets, afraid and alone.

     She still thought of herself as Tomboy Akane Saotome... even
if Ranma had cast her out.  'I don't know you,' he said,
completely emotionless... ignoring her love...

     But what could she do?  He didn't love her back.  He
rejected her.  Now she didn't have anywhere to go, an extender
without a family, disgraced by her fiancee.  Her fiancee, who she
loved with all her heart, who she was embarrassed to be around
for treating him so badly in the past... he didn't even recognize
her now.  He didn't care about her in the slightest.

     Akane felt enraged about this, the anger an unfamiliar fire
that crept into her mind the more she thought about Ranma.  She
knew that getting angry was wrong, since it meant disturbing the
peace and being impolite, but she didn't care anymore.  Her
politeness had snapped easily when Ranma told her off, mind
suddenly able to think about doing things it would have been
appalled at considering before.  Ranma -- that baka -- took her
heart and crushed it under his foot, with those four stupid
words.

     He was going to have to pay.

     She had tried to love him, but now she hated him.  And if
she couldn't get him, nobody would.

     Akane took a sharp left and entered a hardware store,
looking around for something heavy and destructive and in the
price range of the yen she had in her pockets.

                              *

     Gosunkugi remained sitting on the hard asphalt surface of
the garage, a proverbial deer stuck in the headlights of Ranma's
accusing glare.

     "Err," Gosunkugi started.

     "Umm," he continued.

     "I can explain," he offered.

     "I never would have thought it'd be you," Ranma commented,
voice completely lacking amusement or whimsy.

     "You didn't know?" Gosunkugi asked.  "Then... how'd you know
to splash me?"

     "I didn't.  I was acting on an impulse that seems to have
paid off."

     "You mean I was unmasked by ACCIDENT?" Gosunkugi asked,
disgusted.  "Nabiki'd have my hide if she heard that..."

     "Speaking of which..."

     "Speaking of Nabiki or having my hide?" Gosunkugi asked,
swallowing hard.

     "Both," Ranma said, crackling a few knuckles for emphasis. 
"Spill it.  Spill the whole story of what YOU'RE doing as Yuriko,
or more things are gonna get spilled than you'd like."

     "It's not my fault, you understand?" Gosunkugi protested. 
"Okay... it is my fault, a bit.  I've been working as a general
hush-hush activity man for Nabiki Tendo herself for a long time
now.  I mean, I am a Ministry of Data liaison... I have a lot of
vacation time, easy work, and access to incredible amounts of
information.  She wanted what I had, and paid me well..."

     "You're not answering my question.  What are you doing
posing as a girl?"

     "Gee, could it possibly be because if I stomped down here as
myself, you'd never go along with her little scheme?" Gosunkugi
asked sarcastically.  "You didn't really take me seriously as
Gosunkugi, Saotome, which is good; I've been posing as a meek,
spineless guy on purpose.  But by the same token, if I did the
things I did as him, you'd beat me up.  My normally useful nerd
guise wasn't useful here.  The easiest way around that was to
TEMPORARILY turn me female, since you don't attack girls... a
transformation done much to my protest..."

     "That's it?  So Nabiki Experiment-Jed you so I wouldn't hit
you?" Ranma asked.  "And you went ALONG with it?"

     "I didn't have a choice, see?" Gosunkugi complained.  "Like
it or not, I'm on Nabiki's underground payroll.  Not just in
money, but in information.  I can't quit my 'job', because I'd be
too dangerous to her on the streets.  She's got me working as a
pawn, as well as you.  Whatever Nabiki wants, Nabiki gets.  I've
learned to both admire and be disgusted by her drive over the
years..."

     "So that's why you decided to show up as 'Yuriko', too,"
Ranma nodded, putting the pieces together.  "I knew when I saw
you that you had a thing for Akane.  Why not drive a wedge
between us while you do your little job?  Makes sense."

     "Got me there.  Well, now she's gone, and that's a bad
thing," Gosunkugi said.  "You want to find out how I know about
her?"

     "Obviously, yes."

     "Alright," Gosunkugi started.  "It all started with the car
bomb.  Sure, the car blew, but Akane lived through it; she was
just getting in when the car went off.  Nabiki bought the medics
over their CB radio while they were on the road, taking her to
the hospital... while they were just GETTING there.  Then she had
me intercept the ambulance and bring Akane to the Basement of
MoE..."

     Gosunkugi looked at the floor.  "Nabiki told me she just
wanted to make sure her sister got the best medical care... she
was in a coma, after all... but the outside world was told she
died.  Nabiki labelled her 'Experiment-A', and that was that,
nobody ever knew she was Akane other than the two of us.  I was
just training then, and one of my tasks was to keep experiments A
through E going... I had to drip-feed her chemicals to keep her
in the coma.  She healed up okay, got plastic surgery, but Nabiki
clearly didn't want Akane to wake up yet.  She was waiting for
it, Saotome, waiting for a time when Akane would be useful..."

     "That's ridiculous.  Akane's her SISTER.  Why would Nabiki
do something like that?"

     "SHE WOULD!" Gosunkugi yelled, rather shakily.  "You don't
know her, Ranma.  I do.  She's not heartless per se, but she
likes to capitalize on things... if reviving her sister later on
would help her dispose of her rival Kodachi, so be it.  So I had
to keep her under.  I didn't like it one bit... heading down the
elevator to the Basement each day, to see that face staring up
from the slip-shod hospital bed.  She was so innocent, being
pushed down without being able to protest, subject to her
sister's whims... I got infatuated with her without realizing
it... when the order came down to revive her, and she got lost in
the Ministry of Data warehouse... a lot of Akanes were shipped
that night."

     "So Akane Tendo got shipped off to me by accident..." Ranma
concluded, shocked.

     "Exactly.  When you brought Akane by my house that night,
and I saw the same face I had seen every day... a clone's face,
yes, but somehow different.  And the voice, the tone, the
attitude, everything suggested the person I had known well.  I
re-traced the shipping orders and video tapes, and found out
Akane DIDN'T die in the fight, but got sent to you.  So, I made a
judgement call and defied Nabiki for the first time.  Nabiki
asked me later if I checked all outgoing Akanes for trademarks,
and I decided to lie.  I checked, all right; and I knew exactly
which one didn't have one."

     "Does Akane know?  No, scratch that.  She does," Ranma
nodded.  "She 'had a feeling' she was Akane Tendo, and had some
memories... most of us blamed this on Ryouga's clone tampering."

     "Oh, yeah, the pizza girl," Gosunkugi nodded.  "One of the
many screwed up shipments made that night.  Nobody really cared
about that one."

     "So if the Akane that just ran off wasn't the one we know,
who was it?"

     "Just another Akane.  I think we can assume Akane's not just
lost, but something's happened... someone knew to slip another
Akane in her place, one loaded with enough info to fool us,"
Gosunkugi said.  "Except it was just an extender, and didn't have
the personality we'd recognize.  I wouldn't put this beyond
Kodachi, but all my sources say she's busy doing other things."

     "Like what?"

     "Like... things.  Nothing illegal, heck, all of it is above
board.  But she's very active.  I can tell you later; for now,
we'd better see if we can find who's got Akane."

     "Wouldn't it be Kodachi?  Akane WAS her rival..."

     "Kodachi doesn't know Akane's identity.  We're lucky; if she
did, Akane wouldn't be alive for very long.  Still there is a
chance Ministry of Peace is behind this... we--"

     A muted bell rang inside the van.  Gosunkugi's neck snapped
to attention, eyes showing panic.

     "It's Nabiki," Gosunkugi said, not unlike saying 'It's the
Reaper'.   "I can't answer that, I'm not in my disguise... and if
you answer it, she'll know you're onto us..."

     "You don't have any cold water, remember?"

     "That's because I HATE being female," Gosunkugi said.  "The
less I have around the better... argh.  I'll have to answer it
anyway... you stay out here.  Listen in, though."

     Gosunkugi carefully worked his way around Ranma, to the van. 
He dug through the piles of straw dolls, magazines and other junk
until he had a grasp on the phone, and clicked the ANS button.

     "Hello?" he spoke into the air, more than a little nervous.

     "DT, we've got a-- you're male."

     "Umm, yeah."

     "You know you're not supposed to go out without splashing
yourself first--"

     "Well... FRANKLY, Nabiki, I'm sick of being female, okay?"
Gosunkugi snapped.  "I'd like to have a penis for awhile, if it's
fine with you!"

     Silence flowed out of the phone's speaker in a thick
torrent.  Gosunkugi paused, mentally kicking himself for yelling
at his boss... but Nabiki didn't seem to notice.

     "Go find Ranma and head down to the Ice Pavilion," Nabiki
ordered.  "The Luckiest Man Alive just got back from his tour,
and this is probably the only chance we'll have to extract him. 
I'll fax the info to you.  NT out."

     The phone's LED array clicked off.  Gosunkugi exhaled.  "I
shouldn't have yelled at her like that..." he admitted.  "That
was really dumb of me..."

     "At least you stood up for yourself," Ranma said.

     "You approve?" Gosunkugi asked, confused.  "You know,
honestly, I was expecting you to... beat the hell out of me once
you found out I was stringing you along as a girl."

     "I was seriously considering it," Ranma nodded gravely. 
"Until you started telling me everything.  You could have done
what Yuriko's always done, clam up, lie, make threats... but you
didn't."

     "How do you know I wasn't laying fibs on you now?"

     "Simple.  When you explained Akane's story, the way you
phrased it, and the tone of your voice... no way you could have
been lying.  It's how I would have told it.  So I take it we'll
have to delay finding Akane?"

     "Probably.  When Nabiki says move, we move.  Besides, this
might be the proof we need so you can stop working for us."

     "And I can get cured, right?"

     Gosunkugi paused.  "Ummm.  Did I mention what happened to
Experiment-J yet?"

                              *

     Gosunkugi grumbled, pressing the ice pack tighter against
his face, lugging the heavy plastic bag alongside him down the
aisle.

     Okay, okay, that kind of a reaction could be expected, he
thought.  If anything, simply being slugged across the jaw was
minor compared to his darkest nightmares of what would happen
when Ranma discovered who 'Yuriko' was.

     That didn't make his head ring any less, however.

     "Ice," he told the Ryjekistani cashier, plopping his bag on
the counter, along with his unmarked MoE credit chip.  "And three
bottles of cold spring water."

     The man nodded in the gruff style associated with his
stereotype, and clicked the items into his computer.  He was a
Ryjekistani refu who had agreed to travel to Tokyo; Ministry of
Peace checked every incoming refugee thoroughly, and kept tabs on
them begrudgingly.  Kodachi didn't want any of the 'enemy' coming
over here, but Kasumi had insisted that the sick, injured and
mentally unwell be given better treatment than could be received
on the war front.  Planeloads of huddled masses would fly to a
private Ministry of Sanitation airstrip once each month.

     None of them bore grudges, oddly... but this was normal,
because anybody who walks out of the Ministry of Sanitation
usually didn't hold ill will towards Tokyo.  Unlike Kodachi, who
forced her guests into submission, MoS was just nice to them. 
MoS didn't brainwash people, it was just very helpful and
understanding and comforting.  Repeat offenders were a rarity now
that MoS patrolled the streets, because criminals really did see
the err of their ways... or just didn't want to be impolite to
their hosts by rejoining them.  Kasumi extended the same
hospitality to the victims of the Tokyo/Ryjekistani War, ignoring
Kodachi's protests.

     "Change," the cashier said, more or less out of habit as he
handed the single credit chip back to Gosunkugi.  "Thank you for
shopping, shop soon."

     Gosunkugi nudged the door open with his knee, both hands
busy carrying different water products.  Ranma was sitting by the
van, reading a meter of fax printout.

     "Heya," he greeted, without looking up.  "This is really
interesting material... get this; this Mikado Sanzenin guy, he's
been shot at least six times.  We're not talking flesh wounds
either, three of them were in the chest... one was in the head...
and he's still alive and in good health.  The Luckiest Man Alive,
the paper's calling him."

     "That would be Mikado, yes," Gosunkugi said, tossing the
water in the van.

     "How's the jaw?"

     "Bad," Gosunkugi stated, annoyed.

     "Sorry, but hey, you scared me one there," Ranma said.

     "It's true, Saotome.  Experiment-J got ruined."

     "You were serious?"

     "Are you going to hit me again?  Yes, it was.  Look at it
this way, though; I'm just as screwed as you are.  I'm going to
be changing genders until the end of time too.  I'd consider that
punishment enough."

     "Come on, it can't be gone forever.  That's silly.  I'm sure
Nabiki kept notes or something.  I'll worry about it later.  You
ought to read this fax, it's got some weird stuff in it..."

     "I've already read it," Gosunkugi said.  "Get in the van. 
Who do you think WROTE that file, anyway?"

     "You did?" Ranma asked, folding up the paper and heading
around to the passenger side.  Gosunkugi hoisted himself through
the driver's door, shutting it behind him.

     "Of course.  I do all Nabiki's data collection work.  I
hadn't done anything major out of the Basement until you came
along... now I hope I never have to leave it again."

     "What, I'm that bad?"

     "No, no... just I never wanted to be in this much danger. 
Or this much intrigue.  I had just intended to throw tips
Nabiki's way when I signed up, you know, be an MoD plant... I
didn't know she'd want more than that.  I didn't know she'd want
THIS.  High adventure's more your style, Saotome, not mine."

     "But surely you did more than just sit around MoD all day
for her... you told me you worked at the Basement."

     "Part time, part time.  I also did some MINOR field work...
walk up to someone, tell 'em your story, and make a pickup. 
Stuff like that.  But this, see, this is more intricate.  There
are too many variables.  I don't like it much, and I'll be happy
when I can get back to my normal life."

     "What's your normal life, then?  At last check you had at
least two to pick from."

     "I wouldn't mind being a magician," Gosunkugi said, pulling
the van away from the quickie mart at intolerable speeds.  "I've
always dabbled, yeah, but I've never had time to do anything
beyond dabbling.  I could show you a trick..."

     Gosunkugi reached down to root through his junkpile, letting
the wheel swing wildly.  Ranma was about to dive for it and
straighten the car out, when he noticed the wheel WASN'T swinging
wildly... Gosunkugi looked up, noting Ranma's horrified face.

     "The car..." Ranma pointed out.

     "Oh, that.  Auto pilot.  It knows where to go.  Now,
anyway..."

     "You mean to tell me I've been subjected to your horrible,
life-threatening driving for days when you could have just put
the car in AUTO PILOT?" Ranma exclaimed.

     "Yeah.  So?"

     The van's engine drowned out the sounds of violence.

                              *

     The van pulled up to the Tokyo Ice Stadium, two battered
girls flopping out of it.  One considerably more battered than
the other.

     "That was pointless," 'Yuriko' grumbled, rubbing her sore
spots.  "You didn't help matters any by jumping me, Saotome.  How
do you think you're gonna explain our looks to the guards?"

     "That's your job, not mine," Ranma said, rubbing the
scratches she had gotten from Gosunkugi's self defense.  "Why do
we have to go as girls, anyway?"

     "Technical reasons," Yuriko said, pulling the now crumpled
fax out of the van.  "See here?  It's our cover, as usual.  Look,
you just let me handle the talking, okay?  I'll get us inside."

     "What're we here for, anyway?"

     "Just let me handle the talking, smile, and nod your head,"
Yuriko requested, tossing the fax back inside the van and
shutting the door.  "This'll be a cakewalk."

     Ranma looked around.  The parking lot was nearly full; the
people were out en masse for the event at the Ice Stadium.  Ranma
knew why, too, from reading the fax.

     Apparently, the war in Ryjekistan was going very well, to
the point where it'd be over soon.  As a result, the
entertainment wing of the Ministry of Peace could afford to pull
their stress-relief variety show out of the war-torn country and
do a brief tour here in Tokyo, for public relations and war
promotion.  It seemed to be working; five times what the stadium
could hold were watching, from ticketed seats or home
televisions.

     And the place was swarming with Ministry of Peace soldiers. 
Some just to show the force... some to act as security, like the
six or seven Yuriko approached with a casualness that defied most
beer commercials.

     "Greetings," Yuriko said, to the guards that were roughly
2.653 times her size.  "Where can we find one Mikado Sanzenin?"

     "Are you on the list?" a guard asked.  Ranma looked around,
but didn't see any of them carrying a list.

     "I should hope so," Yuriko said.  "We're his temporary
replacements.  I believe you were told in advance?  The Amazing
Ranko and manager?"

     "Why do you look like you've been beaten up?" a random guard
asked.

     "We got mugged on the way here.  Don't worry, the talent
didn't take too much damage," Yuriko noted, casting a very angry
look at Ranma.  "I can direct the makeup crew to help cover it
up.  Now can we get inside and talk to Mr. Sanzenin or not? 
We're operating on a very tight schedule, you know."

     "Let me call in a check," the guard said, and started
muttering to the air.  Ranma noticed the microphone on his helmet
before Yuriko blocked her view.

     "I'm sorry that we've gone through so much trouble getting
you here to practice your art, Miss Ranko," Yuriko fawned.  "Rest
assured that you WILL be able to perform tonight!  There's quite
a crowd in there, after all, and Commander of the Peace Kodachi
would never allow Mikado to go on without a partner..."

     "Ummm... yeah, I could see how that'd be a problem," Ranma
added.  She glanced around the fake-concerned Yuriko to notice
the guard visibly sweat.

     "There'll be no problems, ma'ams," the guard said.  "You're
cleared.  We're arranging for an escort inside now."

     "Good!" Yuriko beamed.  "Mikado will be pleased to hear that
his replacement has arrived.  How's Azusa-chan doing?"

     "Who?" Ranma asked.  Yuriko politely stomped on her foot,
Ranma trying to hold in the yell of pain.

     "Quite well, considering her injury.  Clubbed behind the
knee... very bad for skating.  Rest assured that the culprit that
did it has been apprehended!"

     Yuriko winced.  "Yes, that is a good thing.  I'd hate to see
the miscreant hurt Ranko here, making you need to look for a
replacement for your replacement!"

     "No problem, miss, the boys caught the bugger," a slimy
looking extender said, wandering over from the ticket gate. 
"Henry Tuttle Wataru.  Ministry of Peace.  I'll be your escort."

     Yuriko blinked.  "You?"

     "He's one of Kodachi's most trusted doctors.  He's been
working on Azusa all night," the guard replied.

     "Oy vey, wot a mess that girl is!" Henry nodded.  "I'm glad
they've just gone for a replacement.  Bloody difficult, her."

     "Is the injury that bad?" Yuriko asked.

     "Well, no," Henry said.  "You'd just have to see for
yourself, miss..."

                              *

     Backstage in the ice rink was a scene of pandemonium.

     "MICHEL!  MICHEL!" the girl shrieked, yanking at the
stethoscope.  The doctor whose neck was currently tangled up in
it went through the blue end of the color spectrum, as various
other white-coated doctors desperately pulled at both ends of the
tug-of-war.  Most of the emergency medical staff was involved in
the brawl, five men alone handling the futile task of restraining
Azusa.

     "She's been like this all night," Henry grumbled.  "Bloody
Azusa extenders... don't know why Mr. Sanzenin puts up with them. 
I don't even know why MoD breeds 'em, the little devils.  Hell of
a grip they've got, tear the nipples off a weightlifter if she
tried."

     "I WANT MY MICHEL!"

     "Anyway," Yuriko said, changing off the subject, "We need to
see Mikado Sanzenin to discuss tonight's programme."

     "LET GO OF MICHEL, YOU BUTCHERS!"

     "No problem, miss.  His makeup team is currently with him,
right over there.  'scuze me one minute... lads, hold her down--"

     "I WANT MY KAWAII MICHEL!  LEGGO, YOU baaaahh..." Azusa
slowed, like a broken tape recorder.  She flopped back on her
frilly pink pillow, snoring the little whining snores of the
disgustingly cute.

     "Mild sedative," Henry said, pocketing the syringe.  "Well,
no, heavy sedative.  I don't know why I didn't think of it
before, honestly... little rugrat was enough of a nuisance to--"

     "We need to see Mr. Sanzenin alone," Yuriko requested.

     "Frayed knot, miss.  I've got my orders."

     "You would consider disrupting my client's creative flow?"
Yuriko asked, insulted.  "Ranko, I apologize for this ignorant
man's lack of appreciation for your art.  Sir, Ministry of Peace
requires a tightly planned, flashy ice-o-rama knock-your-socks-
off show to call tonight a success.  My client does not have time
to deal with your men interrupting her professional meeting with
Mikado.  Now, if you insist on not letting us discuss the ice
show alone, this is your prerogative, but if tonight is anything
but a smashing success your head will be on the chopping block!"

     Henry paled.  "Umm... well... look, it's not like I'm in
control of this situation, I'm just a medical tech--"

     "You're the head medical tech, are you not?"

     "'ow'd you know that?"

     "Then use your position to get my client some PRIVATE time! 
Honestly, us managerial types require SOME cooperation..."

     "Look, I'll see what I can do, okay miss?" Henry said. 
"Best I can offer."

     "Then see to it!" Yuriko demanded.  "How are you feeling,
Ranko?  Do you need anything to keep your skating skills primed
for tonight?"

     "Err, no, thanks," Ranma smiled and nodded.

     Henry wandered off, headed for the small obligatory group of
guys with guns that were watching over the impromptu medical
unit.  Yuriko waited until they were engrossed in a whisper
argument, then turned to Ranma.

     "I told you I could get us inside," she muttered.

     "Umm, there's a small problem with our cover, Yuriko..."

     "Must you call me that?"

     "Would you rather I call you Gos--"

     "NOT HERE!" Yuriko hissed, clamping a hand over Ranma's
mouth.  "Yuriko will do, for NOW.  Looks like our boy Henry has
succeeded, anyway.  Here he comes."

     "Alright, the guards agreed to let you have some quiet
time," Henry said.  "But nothing funny, unnerstan?"

     "You would dare accuse the Amazing Ranko, world renown
skater of trying 'something funny'?"

     "NO!  I mean, argh, look, go talk to the bugger, alright?"
Henry requested, pointing to a nearby dressing room.  "I've got a
patient to deal with.  Sanzenin's waiting for you."

                              *

     Mikado looked up from his costume rack as Yuriko and Ranma
entered the room.  He was a typical celebrity... perfect skin,
styled hair, fashionable clothing.  Looks generic enough to make
him likeable by anybody, but specific enough to get him
recognized.  The skater did seem slightly depressed, however...
the slow swing of his head, the lazy eyes that rested on Ranko
and Yuriko...

     "The Great Ranko," Yuriko introduced, with a sweeping bow.

     "I thought it was the Amazing Ranko," Ranma corrected.

     "Shut up, kid," Yuriko suggested, closing the door.  "Is the
room bugged?  My client would not approve of such--"

     "No, it's not," Mikado said, in a depressed tone.  "So,
Nabiki's sent another team.  I'm not surprised, really..."

     "Another team?" Ranma asked.  "Look, now that I'm not 'The
Amazing Ranko', care to explain what's going on, 'Yuriko'?"

     "It's very simple," Yuriko said, dropping the Concerned
Manager act.  "Mikado Sanzenin here wants to defect over to MoE's
side.  However, since he is part of the MoP entertainment
entourage, and has been on the war front for months, that's been
a little difficult."

     "I hope you do better than Nabiki's last three teams,"
Mikado nodded.

     "Oh, yeah.  Them.  They sort of... died.  Get that look off
your face, 'Ranko', we're not under their circumstances.  No war,
get it?  Mikado's supposed to fly back there and continue
entertaining the troops in a week, giving us a nice, safe
window."

     "So how're you getting me out this time?" Mikado asked.

     "Simple.  You and Ranko here strut your stuff on the ice a
bit, I arrange for a diversion and some of our troops will grab
you.  Easy as pie," Yuriko said.

     "I do hope it goes well this time," Mikado said.  "I died
last time you tried getting me out."

     "Well, don't worry, that won't happen again.  We--"

     "DIED?" Ranma asked.  "What do you mean, died?  How're you
here if you died?"

     "She doesn't know?" Mikado asked.

     "Err, no.  I try to keep information on a need to know
basis--"

     "I'd say I need to know," Ranma complained.  "What's this
about dying?"

     "I've died... I don't know, maybe twelve times so far,"
Mikado said.  "The first time was a thrill.  I managed to kiss
this cute medivac helicopter pilot as my dying request... ah, to
die with those lips... but to awaken a day later.  Not quite what
I had intended, you see.  Die in a dramatic way, impress the
ladies, go in a way suiting of a man of my caliber.  Not to wake
up in some army medical tent, being told that I had been
reincarnated through some miracle process..."

     "See, Mikado's another of Kodachi's little projects," Yuriko
took over.  "Anybody can be cloned to develop an extender.  But
see, once they're dead, that's kind of it; nothing left to clone,
because you can't read dead brains."

     "Kodachi found a way," Mikado said.  "All they needed was a
test subject... and since my continued presence on the war front
was soothing for the troops, they reincarnated me.  I didn't
mind, I mean, it meant I could pursue my art and my dates longer,
until I got shot by the enemy one day... and woke up... and
stepped on a land mine a week later... and woke up..."

     "So all we need to do is get Mikado over to the Basement...
or what's left... for some tests, and we've got proof," Yuriko
concluded.

     "Good luck," Mikado said.  "I've died enough times from you
people trying to get me out of this contract that I don't expect
much.  It's such a shame... the last girl was so lovely... an
Akane extender..."

     "WHAT?" Ranma exclaimed.

     "Calm down, Ranma, it's not one we know."

     "Yeah, but... still," Ranma said weakly.  "Look, are you
meaning to tell me I'm gonna get SHOT tonight?"

     "Of course not.  This extraction has a much higher chance of
success, because you've got a legitimate cover.  With Azusa down
for the count thanks to an MoE specialist, and you as a
replacement ice skater, you'll be nearby to spirit him away when
the time comes."

     "Yuriko, we have a problem."

     "Namely?"

     "I can't skate."

     Yuriko paused, jaw hanging open.  "You... can't skate."

     "Yup."

     "How much can't you skate?" Mikado asked.  "I could perhaps
give you enough pointers to cover it up..."

     "I've never ever tried!" Ranma protested.  "I haven't even
roller skated.  If it involves the word skate, I have no
experience.  If you had TOLD me this was our cover back in the
van, maybe I could have kept it from getting this far... but
NOOOO--"

     "Cut the whining, Ranko," Yuriko snapped.  "Well... I guess
we could... umm.  I've kind of billed you as a skating goddess. 
Would MoP be suspicious if Ranko took two steps on the ice and
fell flat on her face?"

     "Undoubtedly," Mikado nodded.

     "Alright.  SO... hmmm.  Hmmm.  No... this isn't a problem. 
I think I know what we can do.  I gotta go make some
arrangements... you two kids just play along with whatever
happens and it'll go okay, got it?"

     The skater and wannabe skater nodded along.

     "And remember, when the lights go out, make for the
backstage area," Yuriko said.  "Both of you.  We've got a team
nearby, but you need to reach them before they can get you out of
here.  I've got arrangements to make.  You two get comfortable,
it's gonna be a long night."

     With that, Yuriko exited the dressing room, and shut the
door behind her.  Mikado shrugged, and turned to Ranko.

     "I hope you don't get hurt, miss," Mikado said.  "It would
be a shame to lose a lovely petal such as yourself..."

     "'Lovely petal'?" Ranma asked, quirking an eyebrow.

     "Truly, yes.  I have used many an Azusa for a partner...
they are fine girls, one and all, but a bit disturbed.  Many have
died alongside me in the course of my tour of duty, simply
replaced with another, but the loss bears upon my soul greatly...
and to know that one such as you, who isn't 'expendable' is
placed at risk..."

     "Glad to hear I'm not expendable..." Ranma said, not
entirely sure she appreciated the phrasing or tone.  "So, ahh...
you've been on the war front?"

     "If you can call it that," Mikado grumbled.  "Really, the
Ryjekistanis can't put up much of a fight... they probably could
have been defeated a year ago.  But I guess the army held back a
bit, since war is good for the economy.  New troops fly in each
week, to the point where we outnumber them ten to one... so many
troops to entertain.  It's a living, albeit a stressful one."

     "But isn't the war winding to a close?"

     "You'd never know by the looks of it out there," Mikado
said.  "If anything, the troop total is the highest it's ever
been.  And these new troops are somewhat scary... they don't talk
much.  Sometimes they don't applaud at the ice shows; when we
bring the portable rink around, they just stare into space...
creepy."

     Mikado paused, surveying Ranma with his eyes.  Ranma
squirmed under the gaze.  Definitely don't like that look, she
thought...

     "I feel bad for bringing one as beautiful as yourself into
this world of dark lanterns and danger," Mikado sighed.  "If it
were not for my own folly, my own desire to rest in peace once
and for all, I would not be endangering you... Please, allow me
to express my apology to you..."

     "Apology?" Ranma gulped.

     With that, Mikado scooped the unsuspecting Ranma up and
kissed her deeply.

     "Ten minutes!" a voice called, knocking on the door.

     "I believe we're on," Mikado said, breaking the kiss and
unceremoniously dumping the stunned Ranma on the floor.  "I'll
see you on the ice, my lovely.  Please, try not to get hurt."

     With that, Mikado wandered out, leaving Ranma staring at the
ceiling, wide eyed.

     And mad.

     VERY mad.

                              *

     "...now you understand that this will be an unusual routine,
so expect the unexpected," Yuriko said.

     "But we're under orders to look out for any dangers to the
persons of Mikado and his partner," the MoP officer said.  "How
am I supposed to know what's normal for the act and what isn't?"

     "Simple.  Look over to me.  If I do this hand signal,"
Yuriko said, making a cutting motion across her throat, "That
means this is unplanned and what's going on could be a problem. 
Otherwise, you have your boys back off, okay?  This is an
extremely complicated, extremely CREATIVE programme, and the
slightest disturbance may ruin the comedic timing... does the PA
booth know about the changes?"

     "I've relayed them, yes.  I don't like the sounds of this,
miss..."

     "Look, this will go over GREAT with the audience.  Trust me. 
Just don't interfere unless you get the signal... why're the
lights dimming?"

     "Show is about to start, ma'am.  I'll keep an eye on you for
that signal," he said, flipping down a night visor over one eye,
and wandering off.  Yuriko nodded, and waited.

     It took a LOT of last minute planning, but she thought she
had Ranma's total lack of skating experience covered.  With no
slip-ups or unexpected problems, this would still work.

     *Back from his tour of the Ryjekistani war front, ready to
greet his civilian public once more... please welcome... MIKADO
SANZENIN!* the announcer blared, a little too loud.  The crowd,
already toked up on popcorn and high-sugar soft drinks, applauded
wildly as the skating god took to the ice, leaping and spinning
as the spotlight followed him.

     Another spotlight rested on the backstage entrance...
waiting for his partner.

                              *

     Ranma slammed one skate on the ice, cracking it nicely.

     The crowd was too busy cheering for Mikado to notice his
entrance.  The guards, on the other hand, noticed it... but since
Yuriko was too busy trying to peel her jaw off the floor to make
any hand signals, they ignored Ranma's presence.

     Mikado noticed it.  It would be hard not to feel the icy
fires of anger and hatred directed at him, even from this
distance.  Another fan, he reasoned, and skated over to the boy.

     If Ranma was capable of telekenetically exploding someone's
head, Mikado would not be smiling like he was.

     "Sir, please, this is a closed show," Mikado started.  "I
can handle autographs later--"

     "Mikado Sanzenin..." Ranma rumbled, like a monster truck's
ignition key turning.  "You... are going... to DIE..."

     "Again?" Mikado asked, as the punch landed right between his
eyes.  Mikado simply slid backwards on his skates, shaking his
head to clear it.

     Ranma ignored the frantic, protesting hand signals from
Yuriko, and charged after Mikado, onto the ice.  He made two
steps before falling flat on his face.

     *And now, enjoy the slapstick stylings of... the AMAZING
RANKO!  Umm, is that right?* the announcer asked, unaware the
microphone had picked it up.

     "Are you alright, sir?" Mikado asked, reaching out to help
Ranma up.  Ranma slapped his hand away.

     "I can't let you LIVE after a disgrace like that!" Ranma
scowled.  "To think you... KISSED ME..."

     "What?  Ugh!  No, I didn't!  I only kiss adorable girls, not
psychotic maniacs!"

     "SHUT UP!" Ranma screamed, charging across the ice like a
wounded bison.  Mikado easily sidestepped the charge, Ranma
skidding to a halt and falling over in the process.

     Meanwhile, across the ice, Yuriko was throwing a fit.

     "I don't understand," the officer in charge said.  "I
thought you SAID it was going to be a 'slapstick comedy-of-
errors'."

     "Yeah, but... Ranko... he... she..." Yuriko stammered. 
"This isn't going well at all..."

     "Should I order the boys to remove this joker from the ice? 
They're pretty close to us, I could probably just walk out there
and--"

     "NO!" Yuriko said.  "It's, umm, that's just Ranko in a
costume.  Don't worry, it's all part of the plan."

     "I must admit, this is pretty funny.  That gu... Ranko is
really doing a good job pretending to be a bad skater!"

     "You don't know the half of it.  Excuse me a second, I'm
headed to the refreshment stand."

     Ranma made another charge across the ice, the confused but
alert Sanzenin easily avoiding it.  However, Ranma was prepared,
and grabbed onto Mikado's costume while sliding by, pulling the
other boy to the ice.

     Mikado oofed at the impact, trying to scrabble his way to
standing, while Ranma held on with a death grip rivaling most
corpses.

     "What's your PROBLEM?" Mikado asked.  "Where's Ranko? 
What's going on?"

     "Keep your lips to yourself, Sanzenin!" Ranma demanded,
clutching a leg like a life preserver.  "SOME people don't
appreciate--"

     "INCOMING!" Yuriko yelled to Ranma, pulling a bottle of root
beer out of her jacket, proceeding to shake it up.  Ranma waved
for her to stop, but it was too late; the pressurized soft drink,
nicely chilled, had already doused Ranma down.  Her clothes began
to smell of carbonated prune juice.

     "Wha?" Mikado asked, gaping at Ranma's new body in
confusion.

     "Now go skate, stupid!" Yuriko demanded, tossing the empty
bottle away.

     "Ranko!  THERE you are," Mikado said.  "Come to my arms and
let us grace the ice--"

     The audience cheered as the wacky slapstick comedy started
up again.

     The Ministry of Peace officer stared on, along with the rest
of the viewers.  "When did Ranko lose her boy disguise?"

     "It was fluid soluble," Yuriko said.  "Things should be more
normal from here on.  No worries.  Excuse me, I'm off to make
some arrangements."

     "Umm... you'd better stay here," the officer said, resting a
meaty paw on Yuriko's shoulder.  "I'm getting some disturbing
radio reports..."

     "Eh?"

     "There's trouble.  It seems there was a mercenary squad
waiting at the backstage area."

     Yuriko swallowed.  "You don't say."

     "Plus there's some kind of commotion at the east gate...
some crazed girl with what looks like a large mallet is trying to
get past... make that has gotten past the guards.  You stay put,
I'd better go investigate this.  Unless this is all a part of
your 'comedic revue'?"

     "NO!  Well... no.  You go do your duty, officer, I'll make
sure the ice show goes off without a hitch."

     It was a bit late at that point.

     While Ranma and Mikado had something that was a cross
between a death match and a Three Stooges cartoon going on the
ice, someone had managed to make it through the guards
surrounding the rink.

     Charging in from the east gate, knocking three armored
troops aside like bowling pins, was an Akane extender carrying a
very large hammer, dressed in the same clothes she fled the
parking garage in.

     "RANMA!!!!" she yelled, in a voice that actually carried
better than the PA system.  "YOU'LL PAY FOR IGNORING MY LOVE!"

     "Is this part of the show too?" the officer asked, turning
to Yuriko.  Who wasn't there.

                         End of File
                         Ministry of Data record GH.3704.7734.14
                         Private use only