Tenchi lay in the shallow end of the pool, his head anchored out of the water, while the rest of his body sloped down the incline into the steamy water. He cleared his mind of all thought, just letting the heat seep into his muscles. Those Power spikes were worrying him, and he thought about them while he idly played with his sensor-laden necklace. He heard their voices before he saw them, watching their bare feet through half-raised eyelids. Ryoko settled into the pool on his right side, Ayeka on his left, Washu beyond Ryoko, Mihoshi beyond Ayeka, and across from him Sasami and Funaho settled into the deeper water. They were all wore nothing but a towel (even uninhibited Ryoko wore one, out of deference to Lady Funaho); at one time Tenchi might have felt nervous about the arrangement. But he had learned through hard experience never to enter the onsen without a towel of his own, because his solitary baths often ended in ambushes. He didn't even flinch when four pairs of feet draped themselves over his legs, prodding and digging teasingly. There was the clatter of dishes and the unmistakable sound of a sake bottle being opened. "Tenchi," Ryoko cooed, "would you like a little drink?" To everyone's surprise, he answered in the affirmative. He rarely drank anything alcoholic, but he was definitely in the mood today. "Here, Sir Tenchi," Washu said, handing him a cup. "Please don't call me that," Tenchi replied. "I don't deserve to be knighted." "You most certainly do deserve it," Funaho said. "And there are three knightly orders on Jurai that agree with that assessment, or they wouldn't be competing for the honor." "I'm no hero," he said through a mouthful of sake. "You are to these ladies. You freed them from Kagato." "It was a group effort -- it took all of us working together." "Yes, they helped; but in the end it was you who went toe-to-toe with that monster in his own lair, completely alone. You not only rescued them, but you saved the lives of millions of people on this planet that he would have butchered for his own amusement." "Damn straight!" Ryoko muttered. "I've seen him do it." "I didn't fight him for glory, or a title. I fought to free my friends. I was angry, and scared." "And you shouldered your fears and faced him anyway. If that isn't heroism, what is?" Funaho asked. Tenchi wasn't buying it. He had read about too many public 'heroes' who turned out to have hidden agendas and dark secrets. He didn't want to be lumped together with such hypocrites. "Can we talk about something else?" Wisely, Funaho dropped the subject. She could see that her great-grandson was truly modest and troubled by the whole topic. It could wait for another time. "Very well. Tell, me ladies, what do you intend to do on your honeymoon -- besides the obvious, of course. Ryoko?" "Well, since we're kinda limited on funding, I suppose we'll just find a hotel near a beach somewhere." She looked at Tenchi for confirmation, but he was staring into his sake. "Ryoko, Dear, you will be marrying the Crown Prince of the Juraian Empire. Funding will not be an issue; I'm reasonably sure we can have sufficient resources transported here and converted to the local currency in time for your honeymoon." "Well, if that's the case -- I want to go on a cruise!" "Huh?" Tenchi muttered, looking up. "The cruise ships that sail this planet's oceans are equipped with casinos and restaurants and nightclubs and swimming pools and sundecks and private cabins with room service. I want a whole week of exciting days and intimate nights!" She elbowed her fiancée, trying to share the vision she was seeing. "Sounds like fun," he agreed. "Then consider it arranged," Funaho replied, making a mental note to discuss the details with Yosho later. "Washu? You're next in line, what do you have planned?" "I think we'll just spend the week in my lab curled-up with a good book." "That doesn't sound very memorable. What book are you talking about?" "A local text called the 'Kama Sutra.'" Tenchi choked on a mouthful of sake, and Ayeka and Ryoko took turns slapping his back. Funaho watched with one raised eyebrow. "I take it this book contains something significant?" "I prefer to think of it as 'inspirational,'" Washu replied, grinning wickedly. "I found it not long ago while looking for pertinent reference materials. It contains some extremely interesting suggestions for experimental research. And don't worry, Tenchi, I have a large stock of vitamin supplements and anti-inflammatory cremes on hand. Just in case." Tenchi reached for the sake bottle. "Ah, I see. Mihoshi, what about you?" "Well," she giggled, "There is a luxury resort in close orbit around one of my home system's gas giants. I hear it has absolutely spectacular views of the cloud formations, as well as the rings. And the food is supposed to be five-star." "I would think you'd get enough space travel in your line of work." "Uh, actually, the suites also have variable-balancer controls. And there are some zero-gravity experiments I'd like to try." She blushed under the astonished looks she received. "What kind of experiments?" Washu asked, intrigued. "Well, there was a raid on an orbiting brothel in the Zeta Artenis system a year ago by one of our vice units, and among the documentation they recovered were some training manuals for new employees. I hear they were pretty extensive." "Have you read any of these manuals?" Washu asked, a calculating smile spreading across her face. "No, but I can get copies." "Care to exchange information?" "Sure, if you will -- and some of those supplements." "Deal!" Washu said, extending her hand. Mihoshi shook it, satisfaction painted on her face. "Hey, wait a minute!" Ryoko interrupted. "Yes, just what do you two think you are doing?" Ayeka chorused. Washu just smiled sweetly at her companions. "What's the matter, ladies -- feeling left out?" Ryoko and Ayeka both had the decency to blush at the discreet reference to their own little arrangement. Tenchi groaned and drained his cup. Across the pool, Funaho was biting the insides of her cheeks. "Ayeka, dear, what about you?" Ayeka stirred her sake for a moment. "Something traditional. A cruise through the home system, perhaps, or a week at one of the tropical island resorts. I haven't really given it much thought." "I would highly recommend that you do." "Is four months long enough to plan for a Royal wedding?" "It will have to be, unless you'd care to postpone it for a while?" Funaho saw the look in Ayeka's eyes and smiled. "No, I didn't think you would. I'll send a courier 'bot to the Royal Chamberlain in the next couple of days, with a list of details and suggestions." "Thank you, Funaho." "And what about you, Sasami? We don't want you to be left out of these discussions." "I figure I'll get my Betrothal Banquet after Ayeka's wedding," Sasami replied. "I've heard her banquet was pretty spectacular, and I want one like it." "I think that's a very sensible idea," Funaho smiled and place her hand on Sasami's shoulder. "I'm sure Misaki will look forward to planning it with you." "Well, I'll have a few things to say about the food," she said. She noticed all the grins around the pool. "What?" "There is something else I am concerned about," Funaho said. "I had to adapt to Juraian cultural traditions when I left this world, and I made many mistakes in the transition. It was a difficult period, and I would spare you ladies some of that grief. Perhaps we should discuss some of the marital traditions common among the upper castes." "Uh, oh," Tenchi muttered. "I'm not sure I should listen to this." "I think you should. You do have a stake in it," Funaho answered with upraised eyebrows. "Does this involve that whips-and-chains thing?" He looked over at Ayeka, who nodded. "I've heard this already, Lady Funaho. I'm not sure I agree with it." "Nonetheless, you should be aware of it. Ayeka will be expected to uphold the traditions." "Absolutely," Ayeka confirmed. A frown was forming on her face, as the other females present exchanged confused expressions. "You agreed to it, Tenchi." "I agreed to try it, yes. But I also said that we might need to modify it a bit. Coming from a backwater like Earth, the idea takes some getting used to." He looked to his great-grandmother. "If you don't mind my asking, Lady Funaho, did you accept the practice?" "Not completely," she answered. "I have some difficulty with the instruments, and I will admit that assimilating some of the deeper concepts has been a challenge. Fortunately, Lord Azusa was willing to make some compromises." She smiled. "Of course, I was the daughter of a daimyo, and before leaving this planet I received some training in the exotic arts. My husband has had little to complain about." The smile softened. "And that is why we should discuss this now. I am aware of the traditions that Ayeka will bring to the marriage bed, but I wondered about what you other ladies may be asking of Tenchi." At this point, Washu interrupted: "Excuse me, please. Just what whips-and-chains tradition are you talking about? Ayeka, are you a closet dominatrix?" Ryoko and Mihoshi just stared open-mouthed. "I would not describe our traditions so crudely, but there are similarities." "Tenchi, maybe you should escort Sasami back to the house," Washu advised. "That is unnecessary," Funaho interrupted. "There is nothing we will discuss that she hasn't heard already." "Yeah," Sasami added. "I've been watching Mommy teach Ayeka the whip techniques for years. I can't wait to try them myself, when I'm older!" "Oh, God," Tenchi said. "If you think I'm going to allow anyone to chain MY Tenchi and take a whip to him --" Ryoko growled. "He is not just 'your' Tenchi. He never has been." Ayeka took a deep breath to keep her temper in check. "And the application of the whip is very discriminating, it is not intended as a --" "I DON'T CARE!" Ryoko exploded. "May I handle this?" Funaho asked. "Please do," Ayeka replied. Tenchi started to reach for the sake bottle again when the tremors started. He likened them to a caffeine buzz. He also became aware of a roaring in his ears, of sweat beading out across his skin, and a growing nausea. He was trying to decide whether he should make an effort to get to the men's changing room -- and the toilet in it -- when he became aware that the conversation around him had ceased, and everyone was watching him. "Tenchi, are you alright?" Washu asked. He decided this wasn't the time for macho posturing. "No," he answered. "I feel...odd." "Is it the sake?" Mihoshi asked. "I don't think so," Washu replied. "He's not flushed, he's pale. And I felt his Power level flicker." With a gesture, she summoned her terminal. She typed several sets of commands, pursing her lips as she watched the results. "I think you might want to go lie down, Tenchi." "Yeah, I was just thinking that myself." He lurched to his feet, and started walking slowly towards the dressing room. Ryoko materialized beside him and grabbed his arm seconds before he staggered. "Thanks," he whispered. He fought the nausea and growing disorientation. She got him through the changing room door, and sat him down on the bench near his clothes. "I'll be ok, now," he told her. "Do you need help changing?" He attempted a smile for her, "Still trying to get me naked, huh?" But the smile was even weaker than the joke. "No, I'll manage. And if I do heave, there's no reason for you to sit here and watch. Go on back and join the others. I'll call you if I need you." "Promise?" "Promise." She kissed him and teleported out of the room. He briefly considered crawling over to the toilet and forcing the situation, but decided against it. It took a concerted effort to dress himself. His ailment was manageable as long as remained occupied, so once he had finished putting his clothes on, he decided to walk back to the house. He opened the door and slipped quietly away, making every effort not to disturb the women who were involved in an animated discussion. He was sweating profusely, and his coat felt heavy and stifling, so he removed it. The cold air felt welcome, and the breeze dried/froze the sweat on his face. But the glare off the snow was giving him a headache, on top of his other symptoms. The longer he walked, the more nauseated he became, and the roaring in his ears increased, and the disorientation got worse. He wasn't really surprised when he fell. He sat up, feeling around for his jacket, and was surprised to discover that he was sitting on wooden planks. "Oh, great," he muttered, "How the heck did I get out on the dock?" He forced himself onto his knees, which took a lot of effort. Sweating, dizzy, on the verge of puking his guts out, and now stranded on the dock, he wondered what else could possibly go wrong. His answer was a Power spike. It started in the small of his back, surging up his spine like a boiling wave. When it reached his shoulders it simultaneously rolled up his neck and over his head while foaming down his arms and into his fingers. His hands jerked away from his body as the Lighthawk Wings flashed unbidden into existence. By then he wasn't really aware that that they had appeared, because his back had arched and a scream erupted from his lips. "What was that?" Washu felt the Power spike, as had her companions. She watched her monitors showing the spike -- except it wasn't a spike, it was a surge, and it was increasing in intensity. "Where's Tenchi?" "He's still in the changing room," Ryoko replied. "Go check on him." This didn't look good, and she sounded worried. "He's not in there!" Ryoko had partially phased through the wall, so only her head was showing. They were all feeling the Power surge now, and their faces mirrored each other's concern. "Spread out and find him." "There he is!" Mihoshi gasped, pointing down through the wall of the onsen towards the dock. They clustered around her, shocked by what they were seeing: Tenchi was on his knees, screaming at the sky, while the Lighthawk Wings hovered before him. Except the Wings didn't behave normally. They were twisting and curling like wind-blown leaves, erratically changing in brightness. Until with one savage coordinated movement they elongated and widened and englobed their master, swallowing him whole like a three-jawed mouth. There was a collective scream from the onsen, and six pairs of eyes stared in horror at the pulsing sphere that lay on the dock where Tenchi had crouched moments before. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Ryoko teleported across the distance instantly, forming her black battledress around her the moment she appeared over the globe. With an angry cry she tried hurling needle-like blasts of energy across it's surface, and then attacking the sphere with her energy sword. Her attempts produced nothing but showers of sparks. By this time the others had dressed and hurried to the dock, watching Ryoko snarl in frustration. Again, Washu summoned her shadow-like terminal. "Well, I'm still getting telemetry readings from my sensors. That shell is allowing oxygen in and carbon dioxide out, so he's not in any danger of suffocation. His metabolism is slowing down, though; heart rate, respiration....almost like's he's going into stasis. It also looks like there is no gravity in there." "I'm going to try and phase through that shell," Ryoko announced. "No," Tsunami's voice rang loudly in their ears. Moments later she appeared between the galactics and the sphere. "If you attempt a forced entrance you will kill him. That is a controlled environment, and you would disturb the balance." "But I've got to free Tenchi from that prison!" Ryoko exclaimed "Tenchi is not being held against his will. He created that cocoon himself." "And how do you know that?" "I have witnessed this process before." "A cocoon?" Washu asked. "Why would Tenchi need a cocoon?" "Every chrysalis instinctively protects itself during metamorphosis," Tsunami answered. "What are you saying, that our Tenchi is a pupa?" "Yes. It will be three or four days before his metamorphosis is complete, and for his safety you should not interfere." "Tsunami, how many times have you seen this process?" Funaho asked. "I've seen four complete transformations in the last 20,000 years. I have seen five incomplete ones." "'Incomplete?' What happened to those five people?" "They died. Survival is not guaranteed." "Transformation?" Washu asked. "Into what?" "An adult." "Who were the four people that survived this process?" Funaho asked. "Emperor Ashisato, Emperor Fusatane, Empress Mineko, and Emperor Kuniteru." "Why did they attempt this?" "They could not prevent it. Anyone who summons the Lighthawk Wings is changed forever." "Did Tenchi know about this price?" Ayeka asked. "There is no 'price.' You do not understand." "Maybe you'd better explain, Tsunami," Washu said. "Many centuries ago, the Emperor Ashisato was trying to unite the people of Jurai against the threat of an invasion. He needed a tool, or a weapon, or a symbol, something to rally his subjects. I offered him the knowledge he sought. I offered Tenchi the same knowledge. One of the side effects for any mind that wields the Lighthawk Wings is reorientation, and the brain must physically adapt to process the Power. But the Lighthawk Wings are not the final goal; they are merely secondary instruments." "Secondary instruments?" Washu said slowly. "Ah: metaphorically speaking, you need tongs to hold the tool that is being forged." "Yes," Tsunami replied. "The observer sees only the outward manifestation, and perceives the Lighthawk Wings as the ultimate goal, when the true goal is the alteration of the mind." "What is the nature of this alteration?" "Expanded perception. Enhanced manipulation. Few minds are capable of such stretching, and few hearts are compassionate enough to accept the responsibilities. Tenchi was genetically suitable for it, but it is his personality that truly made it possible. He is a very rare and unique person." "He sure is," Ryoko said quietly. "I remember the stories about Emperor Ashisato," Ayeka said. "He was said to be a tremendous Adept. In fact, it was he who first named the Lighthawk Wings." "Do you know what inspired the name?" Washu asked. "Yes. The Lighthawk is a Juraian butterfly." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Washu found him standing on the edge of the cliff, sake bottle in hand, leaning over and looking at the rocks far below. "What are you doing here, Tenchi?" she asked. "Contemplating my future," he answered. He swished the alcohol around in the bottle before leaning back to drain a big gulp. It dribbled down his chin as his Adam's Apple bobbed. "That's close enough, by the way." She stopped. She had been walking slowly towards him, hands held loosely at her side. She cursed silently, but kept her face impassive. "And if I see that keyboard of yours appear, then this conversation will end very abruptly." "Why are you doing this?" "Let's just say it's the most direct solution to a difficult situation." "I don't understand." "I've lost my identity, you see. I no longer 'fit in' anymore; not at home, not at school, not...anywhere. I don't know about where you come from, but on this world -- at least these islands -- the male initiates the courtship, and the male does his level best to protect and support his family. So let's see: you ladies have been aggressively chasing me since Day One, so I lost that role. And any one of you ladies could incinerate me without any effort, so there goes my role as protector. And you're all either very rich or very powerful or both, so I'm locked out of the breadwinner role, too. You've emasculated me (I think that's the word). I've always wondered what you ladies saw in me, but I think I understand now. Strong women prefer weak men (you know, opposites attract, and all that). With all the attention I get, I must be a real weakling. Anyway, you've put me in a dress and turned my world upside down." "You know, if you really feel that way, just say the word and we'll all leave." "You'll be leaving anyway, whether I say the word or not." He took another long draught from the bottle. Washu noticed how flushed he was getting. "You want to explain that?" "Simple mathematics, Professor. You and Ryoko are immortal. Ayeka and Washu and Mihoshi can expect to live several centuries at least. Me, I'll be worm food in about 60 years, and worn-out long before that. 60 years is just a drop in the bucket for you galactics....barely a one-night stand. So, it doesn't matter when you leave, the result is the same." "Really, Tenchi --" "You know, maybe that's why your ex-husband left you when he did. He wasn't selfish or spineless, maybe it just dawned on him that both he and your son would grow old and die and you wouldn't age a day. Maybe he didn't want to feel your pity, or for you to feel his envy. It wasn't cowardice, it was compassion." Washu was speechless. Through so many years of bitterness and despair, she had never considered that angle before. She stared at Tenchi open-mouthed. Tenchi drained the last of the sake, and shook the bottle upside down, watching the spittle arc earthwards. "Good to the last drop," he muttered. He looked over the edge of the cliff again, lost in his own thoughts. He finally realized Washu was staring at him, and smirked at her. "You know, in all the months you ladies have fought over me, embarrassed me, and harassed me, not once have you ever asked what *I* want. It's always been about what each of *you* want." Washu found her voice. "And just what do you want?" "A friend," he answered. "Someone to talk to, to share secrets with, to bitch to when life takes a dump on me. I've never really had anyone like that. Dad is always gone, or just plain distracted; Grandpa talks in riddles and keeps his distance; and the guys at school wouldn't believe most of the stuff that happens to me. Who do I have to confide to?" "You could talk to any of us. We'd listen." "Yeah, right, while you're groping my crotch. You're all as obsessed with sex as my father." "You would be, too, if you'd ever tried it." It just slipped out, and she slapped her hand over her mouth hoping to prevent any more blunders. Tenchi just sneered at her. "Good old Washu, predictable as always." He grasped the long neck of the upended bottle like a sword, and began walking slowly though a kata. Washu noticed that, half-drunk as he was, he still moved fluently and gracefully. She took a deep breath before asking, "What are you going to do now, Tenchi?" "Observe one of the local customs." "Which custom?" He replied with a word she didn't recognize, even among the list of Japanese slang terms she was familiar with. "I don't know that one." "Look it up." "I can't -- I need my keyboard, and you won't let me raise it." "Oh, go ahead," he sighed, finishing one kata and starting another. He moved perilously close to the edge a couple of times, causing Washu to hold her breath, but he slid through the movements either unaware or unconcerned by the danger. Both options frightened her. She raised the keyboard and connected to the Internet, running a scan on the term he'd provided. She also started a program to open a dimensional door directly beneath the cliff, one which would ferry him safely back to her lab -- assuming she got it positioned directly in his path. She'd only get one shot at it. Her search program signaled its completion, and when she looked at the entry the blood drained from her face. "Tenchi, you can't seriously be considering this," she said. "Oh, yes I can," he replied. "Why?" "Why not? Choosing the circumstances of one's demise is a very time-honored tradition on these islands. The numbers have been growing among my age group for the last few decades, ever since rock star Yukiko Okada threw herself off a roof, and it really doesn't cause much notice anymore. Except to the immediate family, of course." His speech was starting to slur as the sake worked on his system. "And my immediate family is so dysfunctional, they'll never notice." "Of course they'll notice," she replied. "We'll all notice, Tenchi. We love you." "Yeah, right." "Is this your way of punishing us?" "No, I'm not punishing you. I'm not educating you, either. Just think of it as removing a leash." He staggered as he stepped away from her. "It's bad enough that I do care for all of you, but it hurts even more to know that it's never going to amount to anything. At least this way it's a clean break, for all of us." He turned and faced the cliff. "Sayonara, Little Washu." "Tenchi, wait!" She frantically typed the commands that opened the doorway immediately below his position. But he had anticipated her, and he lurched unsteadily along the cliff edge. She tried desperately to reposition the opening, but he moved too quickly. She was so busy typing that she missed the moment he actually hurled himself over the edge. When she looked up to locate him, it was too late. He was gone. She screamed, and kept screaming, thrashing about in anguish and horror -- until she found herself sitting on her bed, half of the bedclothes pulled into fistfuls around her knees. Her heart was pounding and her breaths came in staccato bursts. It had been a dream....a nightmare. "Lights!" she whispered, and the ceiling lamps lit. Her bedroom was very sparsely furnished: the hoverbed, two hutches, and a dresser. No decorations and only a carpet for color. Though she normally relished her privacy, the room suddenly seemed very isolated. Her nerves settled while she reviewed the nightmare. It was very disturbing, not only the things that Tenchi had said, but what he had done. None of it made any sense, since it was so out-of-character for him. Nonetheless, she shivered. She decided that she didn't really want to be alone. And she missed Tenchi. Washu pulled a robe out of one of the hutches, located her slippers, and passed through the door leading into her lab. She emerged a few moments later in the Masaki house, listening to the internal supports creaking and the wind caressing the windows. She wandered about the house, looking for everyone. Funaho had accepted Yosho's offer to sleep in the shrine's guest quarters, and so was not in the building. Nobuyuki could be heard snoring in his room, but all of girls' rooms were silent and empty. She found the missing occupants in Tenchi's room. Peering into the semi-gloom, she discerned three figures crammed onto Tenchi's bed: Ryoko was snoring into the wall, Ayeka teetered half-off the edge, and Sasami lay sandwiched between them. Tenchi's spare futon was spread across the floor beside the bed, and Mihoshi was sprawled across it like a loose-jointed swastika. Washu's first thought was that poor Tenchi would have to fumigate his room before he could sleep in it again. But her cynicism softened a bit as she studied her future 'sisters' -- they missed Tenchi, too, and had gravitated here because this room smelled and felt like him. It wasn't even hard to imagine him sitting at his desk, struggling with his homework. Washu sighed, succumbing to her emotions. She closed the door, climbed onto the futon, and prodded Mihoshi off to one side. She heard a soft *thump* and a sleepy "Miya" as Ryo-ohki rolled off the bed, and a moment later the cabbit clambered onto the futon and under the covers beside her. Washu had to admit, she did feel better in here.