The Evil Midnight Lurker what Lurks at Midnight
in association with
The Insane Banana
presents


KANAZUCHIKÛKAN NO MEISHUJINTACHI:
THE MASTERS OF HAMMERSPACE

by W. Samuel Ashley

Prelude:
KAKAN NA SHIKAMETTSURA TO HIDOI NA OTO
(A Purposeful Grimace and a Terrible Sound)


     Once again, giants waged war in the heart of Tôkyô.
     Evacuation from Shinjuku-ku, Minato-ku, and the rest of the city center was nearly complete; the northwest wards were, as usual, hardly affected at all.  (No one really knows why all daikaijû are attracted to the most highly-developed real estate in the area.  Perhaps they have an innate sense of drama.)  UNGCC maser tanks and JSDF F-15s swarmed around the titans, their bombardment about as effective as gnats to a rhino.  (Everyone knows why the military keeps trying despite their total ineffectuality: if they don’t at least put up a show of resistance their budgets will be slashed to the bone next year.)
     Did I say the northwest wards were hardly affected?  Yes?  Good, that’s what I had in mind.  Taking an aerial view of the besieged metropolis, we’d see a single narrow trail of destruction leading away from the fight proper, trailing northwest through Shinjuku-ku and into Nerima-ku.
     Specifically, across Shakujii Park (leaving Sanpôji Pond utterly lifeless, barren as Tôkyô Bay had been on a terrible day forty years before and was now again) and into Higashi-Ôizumi town…where it ended in one large patch of shattered buildings.
     Somewhere near the heart of the wreckage, a young man struggled to a sitting position and instantly regretted it.
     “Aw jeez, my head…” Saotome Ranma clutched at the offending extremity to make sure it wasn’t about to fall off.  “Everybody okay?”
     “Define ‘okay’ and I’ll have an answer for you, sugar,” Kuonji Ukyô shakily replied.  “Did we kill it…?”
     “…It’d better be dead,” Tendô Akane growled as she levered a half-ton wall out of her way, “because if we have to go through all that again, I’m going to make it wish it was.”
     From various other points in the ruins, Hibiki Ryôga, Shân Pu, and Mù Sî announced their own relative safety.  No serious injuries, unless one counted the thoroughly unconscious Kunô siblings (which no one did).  One and all were too weary for their traditional post-battle activities (i.e. try to glomp on or beat up Ranma), producing an uncharacteristic air of…call it harmony, or at least lack of chaos…as they straggled over to the battered, broken, and thoroughly dead crustacoid corpse in the middle of it all.
     Ranma broke the silence first.  “Man, I can’t believe how tough that thing was…it ain’t even a tenth the size of the Yamata no Orochi, but it coulda taken the dragon out all by itself…”
     “Well, what do you expect from an atomic monster?” Ryôga asked, rhetorically.  He paled.  “Um…speaking of atomic…”
     Mousse produced a Geiger counter and waved its pickup at the ex-kaijû.  “Nowhere near the danger zone.  It’s not like the oxygen-destroyer was a nuclear weapon to begin with, right?”
     “Okay,” Akane replied, “maybe it isn’t radioactive…”
     She pointed southwest across the night-cloaked metropolis.  “But what about that?!”
     As one, the youths who local legend had labeled Team Ranma followed Akane’s gaze…and as one, they felt the grip of fear.
     Miles away, late at night, still the creatures were all too clearly visible.  One resembled a titanic edition of the monster they’d just defeated.  The other was far more familiar…and yet terribly altered.
     The one: Destroyer.  Spawn of the weapon that had killed its opponent’s mate, that dark day in 1954.  Death, by its nature, to all other creatures of the Earth.
     The other: Gojira.  Second to bear the name; terror of the islands of Nippon since its emergence thirty years after the first.  Three hundred sixty feet high, virtually indestructible, its heart a living fusion reactor.  Last of the dinosaurs, mutated into an invincible force of nature.  Unstoppable.  Immortal.
     Dying.
     Gojira’s familiar gray-brown hide, proof against the mightiest weapons ever devised by mankind, was now charred black.  Except for those parts that glowed blood-red, that burned from deep within its body, as its nuclear metabolism raged out of control.
     “This is bad,” Mousse muttered as he aimed the Geiger counter Gojira-wards while donning earphones whose cord led back into the depths of his robes.  “This is very bad.”
     “Can you be a bit more specific?”
     “Just a minute, I’m tapping into UNGCC radio and there’s some kind of briefing…”  Rather more than a minute passed, as titans clashed and much of downtown Tôkyô underwent unscheduled urban renewal.
     Ryôga broke the silence.  “Should we go in there?  Maybe try to stop them…”
     “Stop ’em?” Ranma almost laughed.  “With what?  It took everythin’ we had just to wipe out this little one!  Even if I unsealed the Yamasen-ken, all I could do is give ’em king-size papercuts!”
     Akane, closest, was first to notice her alleged fiancé’s pained look.  “Are you feeling all right, Ranma?  You didn’t break a rib or anything, did you?”
     “Ah, no.  It’s just…”  The pigtailed boy grimaced.  “It’s just that there ain’t anythin’ we can do here, an’ it’s drivin’ me nuts!  I can’t…hell, I hate the idea that there’s somethin’ out there that I can’t beat.  Even if I lived to be three times as old as the ghoul and the lech put together…there’s no way I could ever hope to stop either of those things.  Even the SDF- 17’d have a tough time dealin’ with it…”
     “No way!” Ryôga broke in.  “One Reflex blast and it’d all be over.”
     Ranma glared at the lost boy.  “D’you mind?  I’m havin’ a moment a’ character development here!”
     The Narrator chose this moment to remind our characters about local fourth-wall statutes with a carefully-placed anvil.
     “Ow!  Okay, okay, jeez, you’d think I did somethin’ serious like talk directly to th’ readers…”
     Ranma had, sadly, forgotten that talking directly to the Narrator (or even mentioning me or the readers for that matter) is just as intolerable an offense.  Clang.  The others carefully did not react to all this silliness, proving that they, at least, could learn from experience.
     Tossing the anvils off camera (from whence a semiconscious, pained grunt indicated they’d landed on Tatewaki), Ranma resumed his interrupted soliloquy.  “If I had Herb’s power, with my skill…nah, even that wouldn’t be enough.  Damn.”
     “Shampoo hear legends of Phœnix Tribe south of Zhòuquánxiâng,” the Amazon noted.  “Phœnix Prince supposed to be too too powerful, burn up whole mountains if he get mad.  Maybe he tough enough to take out big glowing lizard and spiky bat-bug?”
     Akane shook her head.  “Legends are one thing, but these…Ranma’s right, there’s nothing we can do but watch.”
     “Where the hell is G-Force, anyway?” Ryôga wondered.  “Shouldn’t they be bringing in the big bot around now?”
     “Not gonna happen,” Ranma replied.  “Last I heard, they were still tryin’ ta put MOGUERA back together.  Space Gojira did a pretty good job of wreckin’ it last year.”
     (Indeed, in a semisecret UN base outside Tôkyô, the tech division of the military arm of the United Nations Gojira Countermeasures Commission was even then desperately trying to reassemble their only viable anti-daikaijû weapon.  They would not do so in time.)
     Mousse chose that moment to drop the ’phones and start swearing, profusely and fluently, in Qinghai, Cantonese, Mandarin, Szechuan, Uighur, English, and several dialects even Shampoo didn’t recognize.  Ryôga, who understood every word (inadvertent world travel from a very young age is good for some things after all), winced.  “Something wrong?”
     The Fresnel-lensed boy gritted his teeth.  “Oh, you could say that. According to the UNGCC physicists, the big G’s approaching critical temperature.”
     “So what, he’s gonna blow up?” Ranma asked.
     “Damnit, I knew we should have evacuated with everyone else!” Ukyô exclaimed.  “Y’think the Fûrinkan basement’d make a good bomb shelter?  I hear that’s what it was designed for before that nutcase remodeled…”
     “It wouldn’t matter,” Mousse said flatly, “either way.”
     All eyes were on the Chinese youth.  He went on, in a quiet, emotionless voice: “Gojira’s internal reactor is more powerful than the entire world’s atomic arsenal put together.  When he reaches 2000 degrees… the meltdown and explosion will crack Japan in half and strip Earth’s atmosphere away like a peeled orange.  There’s no safe place, anywhere.”
     Silence fell.
     “There is a chance, though,” he continued, before the shock could quite sink in.  “The GCC’s sending the Super-X 3 up with a cargo of reactor coolant.  They figure it should be enough to stop the meltdown, though Gojira’s still done for.”
     “Okay, so there’s still hope…” Akane began.
     “—Of course,” Mousse went on, “if the Destroyer creature survives this encounter, it’ll eventually micronize all the oxygen on the planet, thus wiping out all life as we know it.”
     Another silence fell.
     “So,” Ryôga summed up, “unless Gojira kills that thing, within…”
     “…within ten minutes,” Mousse supplied.
     “…AND the coolant works, then we’re all doomed.”
     “Afraid so.”
     “That’s IT!” Ranma yelled.  “I don’t CARE if I can’t take ’em down, I gotta try!”  He tensed for a leap, flinched in agony, and fell over.
     Akane frowned down at him.  “Finished being stupid yet?”
     “Nowhere near!  Just gimme a minute—”
     “Leaving nine?  We may only have that long to live, baka!  Can’t you think of anything else?”
     “Like what?”
     “…” There were times when Akane couldn’t understand Ranma.  There were times she couldn’t understand herself.  And there were times, like now, when both applied.
     Of course, if she had understood herself a bit better, she’d have been able to admit that in all three cases it wasn’t a lack but a rejection of understanding.  But then the subject would never have come up, she and Ranma would already be living in a reasonable approximation of domestic bliss, and the story I’m narrating would not exist.  (I wish.  If I weren’t under lifetime contract to this Lurker bozo I could be working for Biles, or Latus, or maybe even Harnum or Hallstrom…)
     *** C L A N G G G ***
     …buT AnYwaY…(ow ow ow)
     And yet there were other times.  (Ooh that smarts.)  Brief moments, now and then, when the doors of self-knowledge swung open and everything became perfectly clear to Tendô Akane.  Unfortunately, to have any real effect this would have had to coincide with a similar revelatory moment on Ranma’s part, and thus far their timing had been perfectly miserable.
     Thus far.
     Whatever Power governs unlikely love decided to give it another try.
     Like what…?
     Akane, adrift in a sea of stormy feelings, chanced to look in just the right direction at just the right time.
     “…Like that.”
     Ranma followed her gaze, and beheld the impossible, or at least the ridiculous:
     Shân Pu and Mù Sî, locked in a passionate embrace.
     (Flash back a minute or so: Mousse, his expository lump completed, silently observed Gojira and Destroyer savaging one another.  History shows, again and again, he mused, how Nature points out the folly of Man…
     His reverie was interrupted by the sensation of a warm, slim, slightly callussed and extremely familiar hand working its way into his own.
     He turned—slowly, afraid of jinxing the moment—to see the blurred yet beautiful face of Shân Pu, his Coral Jade, gazing into his weak eyes with what he strongly suspected was something he hadn’t received from her in over a year: a look of love.
     “Shân Pu…?”
     “[I cannot keep living this lie, Favored Silk,]” Shampoo stated in Qinghai.  “[If we are about to die, if the world ends here…I want to face the end in the arms of the one I truly love, not the one whom cruel honor dictates I pursue.]”
     And she brought her lips to his, and they were together, and nothing else in the universe mattered.
     All right, flashback’s over, nothing to see here, move along…)

[Ranma+Akane goes here]
     “Why that little…!”  Ukyô drew her daihera and stomped over to the couple.
     Correction, she realized: she tried to stomp over but unaccountably failed to move.  Someone had her arm in a very strong grip.  Only one guy here, other than her Ranchan, could manage that.
     “Hands off, Ryôga!” she spat without looking back, without looking away from him, from her, from THEM, sitting together and holding hands as if they actually meant anything to each other, as if he could ever possibly be anyone else’s but hers—
     “Let it go, Ukyô.”  His voice cut through her building rage somehow, its sheer deadness shocking her back to reality (and shocking her further as she realized what she’d been about to do).  “There’s no point.”
     Tearing her gaze away from Them, Ukyô made the mistake of looking the lost boy square in the eyes.  They were more lifeless than his voice, empty of hope, showing nothing but despair and pain and deep regret. Before those eyes she couldn’t feel any trace of self- pity, for she knew without doubt that Ryôga’s hurt went deeper far than her own.
     “It’s over, and we lost,” he continued.  “We were never even in the contest, really.  All either of us can do by going on is hurt them.  Both of them.”  Sheer exhaustion damped his angst-aura down to the merest flicker of yellow- green flame.
     If Ukyô had a mirror, she’d have seen traces of a similar fire licking around her as well.  “I…oh damn, I don’t know what to do anymore, I’m not even sure who I am anymore…”
     “It hurts, I know.  But it heals, Ukyô.  If you let it, it heals.”
     She slumped to the ground, and Ryôga sat down with her, supporting her as best he could.  Maybe helping her would heal him as well, and even if it didn’t, there was no way he could turn his back on anyone in that much pain.  He knew it too well.

[foundations of Truce go here]
     “[Coral Jade…if we don’t die here, I…]”
     Shân Pu stiffened slightly in his embrace.  “[Please, Silk, do not speak of it.  If we live…it will be as if this never was, you know that.  Unless you can find the strength to do what you must.]”
     Mousse couldn’t help but shudder.  It was useless, he knew: even if, as he suspected, he was skilled enough to defeat his love in battle, the very thought of raising a hand against her turned his blood to ice.  And he was not at all certain that such a victory could be won without the use of far deadlier weapons than his hand.  And yet…
     There was the other way.  The secret that Shampoo knew nothing of.  It would succeed, he was certain, but not for months yet.  Months that she would spend in futile, heartrending pursuit of that idiot savant Saotome.
     It would bring hope to her heart, if he told her.  But her Nüjiézú honor might compel her to use the knowledge against him.
     A muffled, uncertain noise escaped Shân Pu’s lips.  He looked down, to see the glint of a tear running down her cheek.
     He had to tell her!
     “[Jade…I haven’t been as totally brainless as it might seem, all this time.  It’s all part of the plan, the real plan.]”
     Shampoo gave him a skeptical look.  “[What kind of ‘plan’ would this be, love?  Something like the time you tried to turn Violent Girl into a duck, or…]”
     “[Nothing like that,]” Mousse assured her.  “[Not that I was really trying, anyway.
     “[I realized, early on, that I’d never be able to defeat Wild Horse in anything even approaching a fair fight—I’m not sure anyone can—so I’ve been acting like a lovesick fool, getting him to believe I’m no real threat.  In about two months, the last part of the plan will come into play…and our next fight will be so utterly unfair that even he can’t possibly win.  I’ll beat him, completely, and in such a way that he won’t be able to adapt or counter my methods.  And then…]”
     “[…And then, you would have the superior claim,]” Shampoo concluded.  “[But what kind of training or power could work like that…? No,]” she shook her head, “[it is better you do not tell me.  I cannot trust myself any longer…but answer me this:
     “[Do you truly believe you can break the Wild Horse?  Is there really a chance to end this madness?]”
     Mù Sî held her close and whispered in her ear, tenderly yet with absolute conviction:
     “[Far more than a chance, my love.  I swear to you, by the spirit of my great ancestor and by his name passed down to me, by my true and secret Name…victory will be ours.  I will never fail you again, Coral Jade.  Never.]”
     And so they stayed, taking comfort in one another’s warmth, while the war of monsters raged.  While the Destroyer was slain, while the victor succumbed at last to its own inner fire, while the sleek airship damped that fire.  As the near-dead Little One soaked up the remaining radiation and completed its own metamorphosis, no longer merely a gojirasaurus but a new and final Gojira, and lumbered back to the sea.
     The gathered youths allowed themselves to relax just a little more. The world went on, a new day would dawn in a few hours’ time.  Peace settled across Tôkyô.
     Shân Pu sighed, set herself, and threw her true love through what was left of a nearby wall.
     “Aiyah!” she exclaimed, bounding perkily to her feet.  “Violent Girl let go of Shampoo’s husband!”
     Have you ever seen that nuclear physics experiment with the room full of mousetraps and ping-pong balls?
     “Whaddya mean YOUR husband, you Chinese bimbo?!”
     “Foul sorcerer, your crab-demon lies vanquished and you shall be next!”
     “OHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO!!!  Hands off MY Ranma-sama, peasants!”
     “RANMA!  PREPARE TO DIE!”
     “Ranma no BAKAAAA!!!”
     Old habits are hard to break.  Not impossible by any means, but certainly hard.
     The boy whose true name was not Mù Sî considered joining the festivities.  No, not much point.  In fact, lying here as if seriously concussed would further the image of a near- Kunô-level buffoon.
     As his great ancestor had written, so long ago:
     “When strong, feign weakness; when weak, feign strength.”
     Soon enough it would end.  Two more months, and his best and oldest friend would join him in the battle.  The invincible power, the ultimate hidden weapon, would be his to command.
     Saotome Ranma would know total and irreversible defeat.
     And Shân Pu would be free to wed her true love.
     So swore Sun Mu Tzu.

     Elsewhere…
     “<Report.>”
     “<Fleet Captain.  Telemetry from probe Zho-5 has ceased.>”
     “<So the Gojira creature is no more.  But does its world still exist?>”
     “<We cannot be absolutely certain, sir, but it seems the aborigines were successful in their attempt to control the meltdown.>”
     “<A pity, Captain.  It would have made our task that much easier if another target simply ceased to be.>”
     “<I believe I have made my feelings on this matter clear many times, Commander.  And you would be wise not to express such opinions before subordinates.—You are dismissed, Lieutenant.  Do not repeat this conversation.>”
     “<Sir!>”
     “<…And so we continue down the dark path.  Another world for the Empires’ amusement.>”
     “<Another world to speed the Day, Fleet Captain.  Or would you have the Warp remain…?>”
     “<I will do anything to destroy the Warp, Commander.  No matter the price our people must surely pay.  Earth will fall, as have all before it…as will all other worlds in this galaxy.>”

To be continued in

THE MASTERS OF HAMMERSPACE
Stage One:
MOUSSE AND JERRY CAN’T LOSE!



     In our next episode, as Stage One begins:
     -The Truce is on! (Can it actually work?)
     -The Jacket Arrives! (SHHRIP!)
     -The Secrets of the Shadow Don!
     -The Lost Boy goes to the Diner!
     -The Other Lost Boy arrives in Nerima!  (Ooo-SHA!)
     -The Plan revealed!
     Last, and least:
     -Saotome Ranma versus Ed Gruberman!  BOOT TO THE HEAD!
     See you in an indeterminate amount of time for Stage One, Episode One:  The Calm Before the Storm Before the Hurricane.

NOTES FROM DEEP LEFT FIELD
     Yes, Mousse’s ‘great ancestor’ is who you probably think he is.  And yes, he’s inherited certain…talents.  Ranma is in serious trouble. :)
     Now, I’ve heard all those arguments insisting Shampoo and Mousse shouldn’t be a couple.  I even agree with most of them.
     But what if what we see on the surface isn’t what’s really going on at all?
     That was one of the random thoughts that led to “MoH”.  Others included speculations on the nature of ki and how technology might work with it, similar musings on hammerspace, and the desire to see Team Ranma in a really intense “alien invasion” setting.  (The aliens won’t be showing up until the end of Stage One.)
     Ranma, as you may have guessed, won’t be the hero of this tale.  A major player, certainly, but I really thought Mousse deserved a chance to shine…along with his old friend from the States, of course. ;)
     This is mostly manga-based, with the odd anime influence here and there.  Kirin and crew exist, but not Toma; Sasuke is hovering about but did not do anything for which Gosunkugi should rightly be blamed.  Kage no Don definitely exists and will play a rather significant role.
     Higashi-Ôizumi (which translates, more or less, as East Big Springs), is a real neighborhood in Nerima (which is a pretty damn big place, larger than Manhattan Island).  Likewise, Shakujii-koen and Sanpôji-ike exist (in the neighborhood just south).  I picked H-O as the center of martial arts activity in Nerima largely because it’s one of the few with a creek flowing through it for Ranma to fall into. :)
     As for the timeframe: it begins sometime before Nodoka discovered the truth, and before either Konatsu or Akari showed up.  Oh, and the Cave of Lost Love incident never took place.  You’ll see why eventually.
     “G-Force” has nothing at all to do with Science Ninja Team Gatchaman, Battle of the Planets, or (shudder) Eagle Riders.  It really is the name of the anti-Gojira team from the movies.
     All Chinese in this ’fic has been rendered into Mandarin, mostly because I have no idea what dialect folks in Qinghai Province actually speak.  I’m not entirely sure of the meanings of Shampoo and Mousse’s names, as I have yet to acquire the manga with their first appearances (the only places, I think, where their name-kanji appear).  But based on half-remembered rumor, this is my best guess.  It’ll be revised if necessary.
     Crossovers in this series include, but are by no means limited to:
     -Parker Lewis Can’t Lose! (NOT the third season.)
     -Street Fighter (II and Zero/Alpha, influenced by the White Wolf RPG)
     -Superhuman Samurai Syber Squad (o/~They’re cousins, identical cousins…o/~)
     -Heisei Gojira (see below)
     -Maison Ikkoku
     -Wasted Minds/Dust Spot
     -Tae Kwon Leep

LANGUAGE NOTES
     Japanese:
     -Kanazuchi: hammer (or “person who can’t swim” :).
     -Kûkan: space, a universe/dimension.
     -Meishujintachi: masters. (You won’t find it in any dictionary, I had to assemble it myself to come up with a word that implies everything English “master” does; “meijin” refers to the master of a skill, “shujin” to a ruler, “tachi” is plural.)
     -Kaijû: monster (kai:mystery, jû:beast.)
     -Daikaijû: giant monster.
     -Daihera: giant spatula. :)

     Chinese (with japanese into the bargain):
     -Zhòuquánxiâng: Jusenkyô (zhòu/ju:curse, quán/sen:spring, xiâng/kyô: region.)  Land of Cursed Springs.
     -Nüjiézú: Joketsuzoku (nüj/jo:woman, jié/ketsu:hero, zú/zoku:tribe.) Heroine Tribe, the Amazons.
     -Mù Sî: Mousse (mù:bathed, washed, favored; sî:thread, silk.)
     -Shân Pu: Shampoo (Shân (not xian):coral; pu:raw jade.)
     Note that, due to the limitations of HTML, several of the diacritical marks above are inaccurate.  The circumflexes in “Shân”, “Sî” and “Xiâng” should all be flat macrons, and the umlaut in “Nüjiézú” should be an umlaut with an inverted circumflex above it.  Finally, I have no idea what diacritical should go in “Pu”, or “Sun Tzu”.

CREDITS:
     -Undocumented Features references appear by the kind permission of Ben Hutchins, who will probably never read this as he can’t stand Ranma 1/2.  (“Argh!  The wound!”)  If you’ve never heard of it, go straight to http://www.eyrie.net this instant.  What, you’re still here?
     -The prelude title and Mousse’s musings on History are both taken from Blue Öyster Cult’s “Godzilla”.
     -For those unfamiliar with the modern Gojira films: The revised, alternate plotline accepts the original 1954 movie, in which Gojira is killed by the Oxygen Destroyer chemical weapon, but ignores all the rest, which starred a second Gojira who popped up a couple of years after the first.  The “Heisei-era” films, so called because all but one were made during the reign of Akihito, the Heisei Emperor (his dad Hirohito was the Showa Emperor), assume that the second Gojira remained dormant for thirty years or so after the atomic tests mutated it, finally emerging in 1984.
     …And no, the American “Godzilla” movie has no place in this or any other continuity.  (What kind of wimpy Gojira can be killed by a lousy three Stinger missiles?!)
     The seven Heisei Gojira movies:
      -Gojira 1984 (1985 in English)
      -Gojira vs. Biollante
      -Gojira vs. King Ghidora
      -Gojira vs. Mothra (subtitled “The Battle for Earth” in English dubs to distinguish it from the ’60s original)
      -Gojira vs. Mecha-Gojira
      -Gojira vs. Space Gojira
      -Gojira vs. Destroyer
     Most or all of these are now available in English dubs.  Check ’em out!

Comments, questions, or what-have-you may be directed to 73310.3217@compuserve.com; please put “To Sam” in the subject line, as it’s a shared address.

  —Sam Ashley
    Version 0.3: 5/15/00
    “An object at rest—CANNOT BE STOPPED!”

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