Death of a Scientist
====================
A Tenchi Muyo! fanfiction by Matt Griffiths
tiger_cow@yahoo.com

Chapter One - Time For Truth
----------------------------

    Imagine a room. A room which appears so large as to contain a whole range
of mountains, a sprawling forest, several rivers; an entire ecosystem
contained within the vast chamber. If this chamber had an exact centre, you
could make a fairly safe assumption that it would be the large wooden platform
in the middle of a wide clearing, cut with deep channels filled with flowing
water, and dappled with light fragmented by a dense overhead canopy of
foliage. In the centre of this platform stands a young sapling tree, its
slender branches wavering slightly in a breeze that blew from some
unidentifiable direction. The tree, currently, was being tended by two people.
    Lady Ayeka stood, watering can in one hand, trowel in the other, looking
at the thin sapling, a look of terrible concern on her brow. Alongside her
stood Washu, possibly the most prolific and talented scientist in the universe
(in her own opinion, naturally).
    The urgent tones of their voices as they conversed lent an unpleasant
tautness to the tranquil scene. Their anxious discourse was interrupted by a
sudden chime behind them, and in a column of light, Tenchi Masaki appeared.
    "Little Washu," he began, walking towards the wooden platform. He stopped
when he saw the looks on the ladies' faces as they turned to face him. "Little
Washu? Miss Ayeka?" His voice took on a tone of great concern.
    "Oh, it's you Lord Tenchi." said Ayeka, bowing her head slightly.
    "Is something wrong, Miss Ayeka?" said Tenchi, noticing her obvious
distress.
    Washu turned back to face the tree, and paused for a moment before
replying.
    "It's Ryu-oh. There's something wrong with the new ship's development
sequence," she twirled a lock of her long red hair in her fingers. "The poor
tree has almost completely stopped growing. In fact, it's as if the Ryu-oh is
dying."
    "My God," Tenchi gasped, "That's terrible!"
    "It is," murmured Ayeka, the usual effervescence in her voice totally
absent. "If my ship Ryu-oh dies, I will have no way of communicating with my
family on Jurai, and no way of returning there."
    "Y-you mean you could be stuck here on Earth? Wh-what can I say, Miss
Ayeka? I'm so sorry," Tenchi stumbled forward and clasped Ayeka's shoulders
to try and comfort her. She resisted for a moment, but suddenly fell into his
arms and pressed her face against his shoulder.
    Washu turned to face Tenchi again, and sighed deeply. "I'm afraid if we
can't turn the growth of Ryu-oh around within a week, it's a lost cause."
    Tenchi gently released his grip on Ayeka, and she lifted her head. Her
head ornament had slipped down over her eyes, and her usually tidy hair was
tousled and matted. At times like this, he felt he could almost tell what
Ayeka was thinking. He could feel how desperate she had become, and decided
the best thing to do was to take Ayeka away and leave Washu to work.
    "We'll leave you in peace now, Miss Washu" he said, and lead Ayeka away
from the ship. Washu waited quietly until they had gone, and when she was sure
they were well out of earshot, angrily flung the pair of clippers she held to
the ground, with such a force they stabbed deeply into the wooden floor at her
feet.

    In the kitchen of the Masaki home, Mihoshi was preparing dinner. She was
actually quite pleased with herself, as she hadn't yet dropped any of her
ingredients or utensils, and hadn't burnt either the food or herself. Things
were going a lot better than her last attempt, in fact, and she began to hum
a jolly little tune to herself. Ryo-Ohki sat on the work surface, in hope
that Mihoshi might be cooking some carrots. Sasami had just finished laying
the table as Tenchi and Ayeka walked in.
    "Oh Tenchi, you're back!" she said, rushing to greet them.
    "Miao!" added Ryo-Ohki. "Miao, miaow!"
    By now, Ayeka had recovered her composure a little, and had tidied her
appearance again. Her tired stance still hinted at her anxiety, though her
face hid her emotions like a mask. Ryo-Ohki could not be fooled so easily,
and looked slightly puzzled as Ayeka sat down at the table in reverent
silence. With a passive meow, Ryo-Ohki returned to her usual perch atop
Sasami's head and watched quietly. Tenchi was walking over to help Mihoshi
when Sasami subtly motioned for him to step outside for a moment.

    Out in the hallway, Sasami, still carrying the concerned Ryo-Ohki, took
her turn to appear concerned. Tenchi couldn't help noticing how much she
looked like her elder sister when her face was so serious. Tenchi was the
first to speak, in a suitably hushed tone.
    "What's troubling you, Sasami?" he asked, bending down to her height.
    "Do you know what's wrong with my sister?" murmured Sasami, knowing
despite their whispering that Ayeka knew very well that they were talking of
her.
    "I...don't know if I should tell you, Sasami. I wouldn't want to cause you
any worry," said Tenchi concernedly.
    "Please," she said, moving her face closer to Tenchi's, "I must know
what's troubling her! I have to know!"
    Tenchi, confronted with Sasami's pleading look, yielded with a sigh; her
innocent features belied a willpower that could bend mighty oaks, and Tenchi
knew this all too well. "Okay, alright," he said. "The new Ryu-oh seed she
planted a few months ago isn't growing properly. Washu thinks that it could
even die if she can't find out what's wrong."
    Sasami tried to hold her impassive expression, but within seconds, her
face sagged, and she looked to be on the brink of bursting into tears. Tenchi
could see the little girl returning again, her adult expression and demeanour
collapsing under the weight of the terrible news. Ryo-Ohki mewed sadly, leapt
from Sasami's head and walked slowly back into the kitchen.
    "Tenchi..." Sasami muttered, and turned to follow Ryo-Ohki, leaving
Tenchi in the hallway feeling slightly guilty.

    Back in the kitchen, dinner was ready to be served, and Mihoshi had
finished bandaging a nasty burn on her hand. She lifted the steaming pot from
the cooker, this time remembering the oven mitt, as Tenchi walked back into
the room. Ayeka and Sasami were already seated. As Tenchi sat down, the
familiar '_whumm_' of Ryoko's entrance accompanied her appearance in mid-air
above the table.
    "Hey, Tenchi, darling!" she grinned down at him. "I'm starved!" she
floated over to Tenchi and wrapped her arms playfully around his shoulders.
    Tenchi glared accusingly and wriggled free of her grasp. Ryoko's features
took on their familiar nonplussed expression when she knew she wasn't partial
to what was going on, and had firmly put her foot in it as a result.
    "Why're you looking at me like that?" she said, her eyes darting about
looking for something amiss. Finally, what passed for her diplomacy cut in and
she decided to stop speaking. Expecting Ryoko to grasp the subtleties of a
difficult situation before causing embarrassment was like expecting a drunkard
to appreciate the flavour of a fine claret. She alighted at her place at the
table and picked up her chopsticks in merciful silence.
    No one spoke for the rest of the meal.

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

Chapter 2 - Precious
--------------------

    Washu furrowed her brow as she pored over the details on her computer
display. She had been inside the Ryu-oh growth unit for three hours collecting
data, but could still not find anything that would explain the sudden,
catastrophic effects that the life tree was suffering from. She was wavering
on the familiar psychological boundary between breakthrough and breakdown. A
clutching pain in her stomach reminded her again that she had not eaten since
last night. She winced momentarily, and continued. She had been known in the
past to go without food, water or sleep for days when an important assignment
was in progress. That was in her college days, however, when she could manage
up to two weeks without rest if she ate well. She had noticed how lately she
was sleeping more often, and longer. Things change, she had reminded herself
on numerous occasions. Her imprisonment at the hands of Kagato was proof of
that. Even then she had become careless.
    She quickly disembarked from that train of thought, shook herself, and
walked to the ship's exit, rematerialising an instant later in her laboratory.
    Standing alone in the quietly humming laboratory, she found herself doing
something which she rarely found time for.
    She looked around.
    Above her the vast tubes and power conduits flashed and buzzed, the huge
structure dwarfing the small woman. Tanks containing hundreds of samples of
species bubbled occasionally, their occupants drifting quietly inside and
watching her every move. She began to feel something she had not felt since
she was sixteen; in fact it took her a moment to remember what it was she was
feeling.
    Loneliness.

    The sun was setting as Tenchi and Ayeka walked back to the house through
the forest. The red evening light turned the leaves and branches around them
to gold. A view like this is worth a thousand times its value than if it were
actually gold, Tenchi thought, in an oddly poetic turn. The woods used to seem
so desolate in winter, filled with the skeletons of a thousand trees,
permanently misty and frostbitten. This evening though, they seemed to exude
a curious beauty, an almost heavenly presence. Ayeka let out a quiet sigh,
causing Tenchi to turn his head to her, where she walked by his side. She
seemed to be drained of all life; the events of the day had taken their toll
on her, giving her face an odd, lifeless look that betrayed her determined and
stoic posture. Noticing the weariness in her face, Tenchi led her to a large
tree stump just off the track, and they sat down to rest. Ayeka let her
dignified exterior slip for a moment as she let a long sigh escape. It froze
into a cloud in front of her, and wafted away slowly. She stared forlornly at
the bed of leaves below their feet. Not willing to see another person
suffering alone, Tenchi reached out his arm to comfort her. Ayeka responded
suddenly, lifting her head, linking her arm with his, shuffling closer to him.
Spotting Ayeka's sudden impending bout of depression, Tenchi spoke.
    "It's a...nice evening," he said, feeling rather awkward.
    Ayeka remained silent for a moment. "True," she conceded, "but I don't
think I can ever appreciate this planet's beauty as I did Jurai's."
    Tenchi knew how little she talked about her home planet, and despite being
part Juraian himself, he knew virtually nothing of the planet's culture. His
curiosity aroused, he could not help but to pursue this line of conversation
further.
    "I suppose the views on Jurai are quite something," he said casually.
"What's it like there?"
    He was briefly surprised as Ayeka hung her head, and let her postured
shoulders slump. Then he realised. '_Stupid,_stupid!_' his mind screamed at
him, '_I've_managed_to_upset_her_again!_'.
    "I'm sorry," he said quickly. "I didn't mean to..."
    "It's alright," Ayeka interjected. "I suppose you have a right to know.
    "When I was younger, before my brother left to fight," she began, "there
was a place I always loved to go. Near my home, there was a huge hill. It used
to take me all morning to climb it, so I always brought a hamper of food. At
the summit, there was a small forest, huge fields of grass, even a lake. My
brother Yosho even built me a boat once, made out of an old tree, and let me
take it out on the lake. But what brought me back there so many times was the
view. The huge cities, the sprawling countryside, people working in the
fields, and great ships leaving the ports. I so loved seeing everything from
so far away. Some days, you could see as far as the ocean. But I could never
go there. Even at that age there were so many duties as a royal heir, and what
little spare time I had I spent up on the hill. All I could do was look."
    Tenchi listened intently, his eyes closed. He could picture the scene so
clearly in his mind's eye, he was almost there. Almost standing on the hill,
almost seeing the ocean, almost there, with Ayeka...
    He was so lost in thought, he hadn't noticed Ayeka had stopped, and was
staring straight at him. He only snapped out of his reverie when he felt
Ayeka's cold hand against his cheek. His eyes flicked open.
    "Tenchi," he heard her whisper, "I don't want to carry on looking."
He felt the soft wetness of her lips against his cheek, and nearly yelped with
surprise.
    "Ayeka..."
    Unable to resist him any longer, she embraced him, wrapping her arms
around his shoulders. She could feel his quickening breath against her face.
Closing her eyes, she felt their mouths meet.
    In the branches of a nearby tree, someone watched, stifling a cry of
anguish with one hand.

    Mihoshi was watching Galactic News on her remote screen when Washu stepped
out from the doorway to her laboratory under the stairs. Ashen-faced and
slightly dishevelled, she glanced about momentarily as her eyes adjusted to
the bright electric lights. She had been unaware of the time of day in her
laboratory, and night had approached unnoticed as she worked. She walked
light-footedly into the sitting room and sat carefully down next to Mihoshi
on the sofa. Mihoshi sat with her legs curled, snug in her favourite chunky
sweater, and didn't notice Washu for a moment.
    The programme had reached its regular science section, and Mihoshi's
attention was almost entirely occupied. Basic Astro-Physics was her favourite
subject when she was at college, not least for the amazing sights that the
field trips brought them to. The news report was detailing, at great length,
something called the 'Sector Eight Spatial Anomaly'. Every few years, a region
of space around the planet Todain played host to an impressive display of
stellar activity; vast aurorae, gigantic wormholes and moon-sized nebulae were
under scrutiny from every scientific community in the region for a few short
weeks. A number of scientific academies on the surrounding planets relied
wholly on their fortunate position near to these glorious events. She
remembered the last occurrence of these had been during her college fresher's
week, and she and a few friends had taken a trip out into space to see the
sights, take photographs, and drink copiously...
    She smiled at the memory, and closed her eyes. So deep in thought was she
that she only looked up when Washu let out a soft grunt as another hunger pang
gripped her abdomen.
    "Oh, Ms. Washu," Mihoshi smiled, "Would you like some tea?" she offered
the steaming cup she cradled in her hands. Washu forced a smile.
    "Thank you, Mihoshi," she said, taking the mug gratefully.
    "Did you make any progress with the Ryu-oh?" Even Mihoshi could sense
Washu's distress.
    "Not much I'm afraid," Washu took a couple of rice crackers from a bowl
on the table. "I've done cell examinations, chemical analysis, root structure,
soil composition, energy traces, even atmospheric breakdowns, but nothing
indicates why the Ryu-oh stopped growing. It's a complete mystery," she
reflected. This was met with a typically blank look by Mihoshi, but Washu
pretended not to notice. Explaining anything to Mihoshi was, more often than
not, pointless.
    "I'd better go and tell Tenchi," Mihoshi stood up, brushed a few crumbs
from her sweater, and went to find him.

    Washu sat, idly flicking through the Galactic channels on the screen. She
wasn't paying attention, though, her mind occupied with matters of greater
importance. The hunger pangs had stopped, thanks to the rice crackers and some
of Sasami's best tea, and she found she could think clearer without the
clinical air of her laboratory. As she sat, she began to mentally analyze her
experiments, which was something of a habit for her, even when she wasn't
working.
    Then it hit her! She knew what she'd missed checking in her tests on the
Ryu-oh. She stood up quickly, ignoring the sudden dizziness this caused, and
ran back to her laboratory to start her research again.
 
    Atop her favourite rafter, Ryoko was sulking. With her knees tucked up
under her chin, her brow furrowed, she was having deep regrets about spying
on Tenchi and Ayeka earlier that evening. Sure, she reminded herself, it
wouldn't have mattered whether she saw or not, it still would have happened.
Right now though, the idea of ignorance being bliss carried a certain appeal.
Alone in the room, her imagination had full reign, and she tried without
success to fight off images of Tenchi and Ayeka, together, intimate...
    She let out another woeful sob. How could she let that stuck-up cow get
away with that? With _her_ Tenchi! The one _she'd_ hankered after for so long!
It made her want to scream, to unleash every ounce of her fury in one
grief-stricken wail. She felt her emotions welling up inside her again, making
her chest heave as she tried to contain them. She knocked back another sake
to stave off her misery, and let out a long exhausted sigh.
    Several drinks later she decided that it might be better if she could get
her mind off matters by doing something productive (seeing as I can't do 
anything _reproductive_, she thought bitterly, the image of Tenchi and Ayeka 
 together leaping back into her mind). Perhaps she could help Washu, she
thought. Yes, if Ayeka's ship could be rebuilt, she could return to Jurai, and
Tenchi would be all hers again. Brilliant! Leaping from the rafter, she tensed
her muscles and vanished with a rush of air.

    Rematerialising in Washu's lab, she was not surprised to find her busy
with another experiment. A number of sharp metal electrodes, standing as tall
as the Ryu-oh unit itself, were arranged around the laboratory in complex
patterns. They hummed noisily, and Ryoko approached with extra caution.
    "Hello?" she called. There was no reply. "Hello?" she said again, this
time louder. Still no reply.
    Making herself airborne, Ryoko floated closer to the Ryu-oh unit. She
could now make out a figure on the very apex of the unit's domed top, at the
convergence point of a thick bundle of cables.
    "Washu?" Ryoko called out, "I mean, Mother!" she corrected herself,
knowing Washu would often refuse to talk to her unless she called her that.
Washu did not appear to hear, and was busy adjusting some equipment. The
humming of the electrodes grew louder and more strident.
    "Yoo hoo! Mother!" Ryoko yelled. Still Washu could not hear. Ryoko rushed
forwards to get closer.
    As she flew towards the unit, the floor began to vibrate heavily. A bright
light flared atop each of the electrodes, and a burst of pure energy arced
between every one, connecting them in a complex web of bright streamers that
danced and spat and cast dark shadows against the walls. Ryoko screamed out
in pain, a terrible burning seeming to tear along every nerve in her body and
cause every muscle to spasm. She dropped from the air and collapsed heavily
on the ground.
    Washu did not find her unconscious body for almost an hour.

    Tenchi sat with Ayeka as she slept restlessly on her futon. He had been
watching over her for half an hour, after he heard her sleeping cries. She had
calmed slightly now, but was still turning uncomfortably, and occasionally
muttering unintelligible phrases. He hated to think of what she might be
dreaming, but let her sleep on. She needed the rest, anyway, he thought.
    He also thought, somewhat inevitably, of what had happened in the forest.
Even now, barely an hour hence, it seemed like a distant memory, a faint
vision. All he could remember clearly was how the cold had suddenly seemed to
retreat, how even the approaching chill of the night had not mattered any
more. He knew how cold the winters could be up in the mountains. He didn't
want to be cold any longer.
    He noticed Ayeka's restless turning had thrown aside her sheets, and she
was starting to shiver in the cold. He reached down and gently pulled the
blanket back over her, trying carefully not to disturb her slumber.
    He was about to leave when Sasami rushed in, panic-stricken and tearful.
Ayeka woke with a start.
    "Tenchi! Come quickly!" she cried. "It's important!"
    "Wh..what is it, Sasami?" Ayeka rubbed her eyes and glanced around, still
a little disorientated.
    "Ryoko's been hurt! Oh, Tenchi! It's terrible!" she was on the point of
breaking out in tears again. She grasped the bewildered Tenchi by the hand,
and led him swiftly out of the room. Tenchi found himself amazed by the little
girl's apparent strength as she tugged insistently at his arm.
    Ayeka watched them leave, capable of nothing more than stunned silence.

    Entering Washu's laboratory, Tenchi could not help but notice a few
changes. He was used to seeing new experiments, but there was something
completely different about the lab's layout. A corner of the room, normally
darkened and mysterious, was flooded with a pastel light. Drapery hung from
supports and trailed on the floor. It looked totally out of place against the
clinical hardness of the rest of the lab. In the centre of this bright island
was a bed, on which the recumbent figure of Ryoko lay. Her usual colourful
garments had been replaced with a simple white cotton robe, and her face was
half covered by a water-soaked towel. Overhead in a specimen tank, a clutch
of simple-looking brown creatures watched with interest. Washu was sitting at
the bedside, tending to a piece of equipment that was connected to Ryoko's
temples by a pair of trailing wires. Mihoshi was already present, kneeling at
the foot of Ryoko's bed, praying for her. Sasami, upon seeing the scene before
her, released her grip on Tenchi's hand and ran crying to the bedside.
    "Miss Washu..." Tenchi began. Somehow 'little Washu' didn't seem
appropriate, despite her many refusals in the past to cooperate unless called
it.
    Washu looked up at Tenchi, but waited quietly until he approached the bed.
    "What happened, Miss Washu?" he crouched down to Washu's height. She
remained resolutely silent. Tenchi began to feel awkward.
    "She's going to be alright," she said at last. Tenchi relaxed a little
upon hearing this, but still could not stop himself from worrying.
    He bent over Ryoko's sleeping form, noticing for the first time the
scorched and burnt appearance of her face and hair. He tried to comfort the
crying Sasami, who gripped the sheets in her tight fists. She pressed her face
against Ryoko's arm and clung tighter. Ayeka walked in, dressed in her long
gown, with Ryo-Ohki following close behind.
    "What's happened to her?" Tenchi repeated.
    Washu waited until Ayeka had joined them, then began relating the events
up until she had discovered Ryoko lying at the foot of the Ryu-oh. Everything
about her, from the expression on her face to the tone of her voice suggested
that she blamed herself entirely for what had happened. When she had finished,
she stood up.
    "I've reached a decision," she announced to the gathering. Everyone looked
up expectantly. "I'm going to retire."

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Chapter 3 - The Bitterest Pill
------------------------------

    Ryoko opened her eyes. She could feel cool, rough ground below her feet.
Looking down, she saw that she was standing in a vast field of tall grass. A
slight breeze was blowing, and the grass swayed, brushing her bare legs. She
blinked. It wasn't anywhere she had remembered being before. It was cold, but
the sun felt warm against her back, and the air was clear and sweet smelling;
she felt tremendous, glad to be alive. A sudden twittering of birds caught her
ear, and she turned around, noticing for the first time a wide clearing
surrounded by trees at the bottom of a gentle slope. The sun reflected in the
waters of a cool blue lake in the centre of the clearing. She began to run
towards the trees, feeling the wind against her skin. Glancing down, she saw
she was wearing nothing but a diaphanous silk gown, plain and white. This
didn't bother her, though. She felt so free, as the grass whipped at her legs,
and her hair trailed behind her, that she reached the clearing breathless and
laughing. She looked out over the lake, still giggling slightly, and saw a
simple rowing boat gliding to the shore, guided by its single occupant.
    "Hello!" called the rower, raising a friendly arm. Ryoko's heart lifted
as she saw it was Tenchi, wearing a wide brimmed hat, and a broad smile on his
face. "It's good to see you!"
    "Tenchi!" she called. "Tenchi!"
    The boat reached the shore, and ground to a halt as the keel sunk into the
soft mud. Ryoko splashed into the shallow water to help him from the boat,
giggling like a schoolgirl, and reached out her arm.
    Which was when she noticed her reflection.
    Her shock of green hair had become a long purple mane, her narrow features
more rounded, her eyes a deep purple instead of bright yellow, and when she
reached up, she felt the carved wood of the head ornament adorning her
forehead. She opened her mouth to scream, and saw in the clear water the
reflection of Ayeka beginning to laugh. She stumbled backwards, falling
clumsily into the mud of the lake shore, and saw Tenchi was no longer alone,
but standing in the boat with Ayeka, their bodies pressed together. They began
to kiss, and Ryoko let out a scream that tore the ground from beneath her
feet, and clove the sky in two. She was still screaming when she awoke.

    It had been three days since Washu's announcement, and numerous attempts
to make her see reason had all been doomed to failure. Tenchi had tried the
rational approach, trying to bring her to her senses. Sasami and Mihoshi had
pleaded with her, but she was as stubborn as brick. Ayeka had not been coping
well at all, and spent most of the days trekking through the forest, now
convinced she'd never see Jurai again. She slept little and uncomfortably, so
Tenchi had set up temporary bedding in her room; she needed him most at night.
Sasami had been forced to move to Mihoshi's room so that she might get a
decent night's sleep. In fact, Sasami had proven to be the strongest of all,
and had spent every day accompanying her elder sister on her long walks.
However, for Tenchi the last three days had been the cruellest. When he wasn't
comforting Ayeka or speaking with Washu, he had meals to cook, chores to
complete, and regular visits to Ryoko's bedside. Washu had spent the time
packing up all her equipment and disassembling parts of her laboratory,
between caring for Ryoko and fending off all suggestions that she should
reconsider. The regime was stretching everyone to breaking point. Washu was
the first to finally snap. It was the evening of the third day, and she'd been
busy dismantling an unwieldy energy duct when Tenchi paid the second of his
twice-daily visits to see Ryoko.
    "Oh, Tenchi! Perfect timing! Give me hand with this, would you?" Washu
said, struggling with a huge piece of titanium piping. Tenchi walked over and
supported the section whilst Washu loosened a few bolts.
    "I hope you're doing the right thing," he said, with a slight air of
condescension. Washu screwed her face up as she prepared for another verbal
onslaught from Tenchi, whom she'd quickly grown to hate over the past three
days.
    "We've nothing left to discuss, Tenchi," she said with remarkable
restraint, "I've already told you."
    "It just seems to me," he responded, "that giving it all up after twenty
thousand years is going to leave something of a...void. I mean, what are you
going to do with yourself?"
    "_Ohh_, dear Tenchi, always the martyr. Don't you think I haven't thought
this through a hundred times? Do you really think you're doing me a favour?"
she snapped, her voice becoming suddenly aggressive. "I've become a failure.
I can't even save a stupid tree! My only daughter was nearly killed because
of me! Why can't you see it's time for me to move on?" She threw down her
spanner, narrowly missing Tenchi's feet. Her voice raised another few
decibels, "You can't tell me what that feels like! You're just an Earthling!
You're a weak mortal so wrapped up in your own petty desires you don't even
care about how others feel!"
    "That's a lie!" wailed Tenchi. "Listen to yourself! I care about you, I
care about Ayeka, and Ryoko, and Sasami, and Mihoshi! You're the one who's
being selfish! Ayeka will be stranded here if you let her ship die!"
    "Shut up! SHUT UP!" Washu screamed. She brought her hand round in a wide
arc that connected with Tenchi's face with a ringing slap.
    He staggered back, more shocked than physically hurt. Washu sank to her
knees, looking more bewildered than Tenchi, as if she'd just come out of a
hypnotic trance. The terrible silence that followed was mercifully quashed as
in the bed on the other side of the lab, Ryoko sat bolt upright, screaming.

    Less than half an hour later, Ryoko was already pacing about Washu's
laboratory, with her fists clenched. The accident had done nothing to dampen
her memory of what she saw three evenings ago. Washu had already cleared the
impromptu hospital away, and was chasing Ryoko as she tried to complete tests
on her, just to be absolutely sure she was alright. Tenchi had long been
banished from the lab, as Ryoko refused to talk whilst he was there, burying
her face in the pillow and shouting for him to go away. She was now trying to
take in the news of her mother's wish to retire.
    "Come on, Washu!" she urged, "You can't pack it all in just because of
this accident! Be reasonable!"
    "So," said Washu, "even my own daughter's turned against me now. I thought
you at least would give me support."
    "Look," Ryoko said, turning around to face her, "just promise me you won't
do anything rash or stupid. Okay? You have to finish fixing the Ryu-oh for
Ayeka."
    Washu grumbled slightly, but gave in. "Okay, okay," she said wearily. "I
won't let you down." She watched as Ryoko took to the air, and vanished
through the farthest wall of the laboratory.
She waited, allowing the laboratory to fall silent again, the turned back to
her work. She shook her head slightly. She didn't expect the others to
understand what she was doing, or why she needed to do it. She just knew she
had to leave.

    Ryoko could scarcely suppress her anger as she headed for Ayeka's room.
Gliding through wall after wall, she began rehearsing the angry exchange and
biting insults she would use to break Ayeka's fragile spirit. She cackled as
she added the term '_Juraian_Jezebel_' to her mental list of jibes.
    Reaching Ayeka's room, she took a deep breath and prepared to release her
full onslaught. But the room was empty. Save for Ayeka's possessions, stored
in their cylindrical wooden cases, and two futons, there was nothing else in
the room. _Two_ futons? With unalloyed horror, she realised that amongst the
crumpled sheets lay none other than Tenchi's clothes. _Tenchi's_clothes!_ She
steadied herself against the wall, feeling a bout of nausea overwhelming her.
Her mind began to flood with images again. Which was when she heard Tenchi and
Ayeka approaching outside the room. They seemed to be conversing. She couldn't
help but hear every word in crystal clarity.
    "I'm sorry if I made too many demands of you, Lord Tenchi, but you know
how difficult things have been for me lately." That was Ayeka's voice. Ryoko
could scarcely believe what she was hearing.
    "Oh, it's nothing," she heard Tenchi reply. "It was the least I could do
for you."
    "But it was so kind of you to sleep with me these past few nights, Lord
Tenchi." came Ayeka's voice again. Ryoko began to feel dizzy.
    "That's alright, Lady Ayeka. Just as long as I know you're happy again."
Tenchi pulled open the door to the bedroom.
    "Ryoko!" he said, seeing the shaking figure in the corner of the room.
"Are you alright? It's a bit soon for you to be up and about, isn't it?".
    "Do you mind explaining to me," Ayeka scowled, "what you are doing in my
bedroom?"
    There was a brief pause as Ryoko's pounding brain constructed a reply.
'Play it cool, ' she told herself, 'don't let her think she's got the better
of me...'
"Oh _my_!" she said, pulling a false smile, "You don't have to act so
suspicious, Princess! I was just coming to tell you the news."
    Ayeka raised one eyebrow, willing to listen but unwilling to let down her
guard. "Oh yes?" she said.
    "Yeah," said Ryoko, casually scratching the back of her head. "Washu says
she can save your ship. You'll be able to go back to Jurai, soon."
    Ayeka smiled, but her brow remained furrowed. She bit her lip. Ryoko
allowed herself to gloat for a moment, pleased at herself for wriggling out
of the predicament.
    "I think I'll wait. I'll speak to Washu tomorrow," said Ayeka. "It's late,
so I'd like to go to bed now. I think you ought to as well, Lord Tenchi."
    "You're right," said Tenchi. "Will you be okay alone tonight, Lady Ayeka?"
    "Yes," she smiled meekly. "Thank you for everything, Lord Tenchi." She
leaned over and kissed him briefly on the cheek.
    Ryoko gaped, the power of speech temporarily escaping her. Her mind had
become numb with horror. She clenched her fists, and quaking with fury, walked
silently out of the room.

    Sitting in her darkened room, Ayeka contemplated the day's news. She so
wanted to be happy, knowing that her Ryu-oh could be recovered, and that she
could return to Jurai again. But there was something that made her wish that
things were back the way they were yesterday. The possibility of never seeing
her home again had been painfully difficult to begin with, but she'd had a
strong arm to support her throughout. Now, she could not feel so enthusiastic
about leaving.
    "Tenchi..." she muttered, her voice weighted with sorrow. She lowered her
tired frame onto her futon, and let her eyes drift closed. In the quiet room,
she could hear the sleeping world around her; the rustling trees, the running
water outside, the chirruping of insects. There was another sound; closer and
more defined, sounding like someone moving with infinite care, trying to make
no sound. It couldn't be Sasami, she realised, as she was already fast asleep
in Mihoshi's room.
    "Tenchi?" she said expectantly, a petite smile crossing her lips, "Is that
you?"
    The noise halted, as if the approaching figure had stopped moving. Ayeka
opened her eyes, and turned her head to try and find the source of the
movement. An unfamiliar shadow in the corner of the room caught her eye.
    "_Ryoko!_" she hissed, sitting up quickly. "What are you doing here?"
    The figure of Ryoko stepped forward out of the shadows, and began to
laugh; a hollow, humourless laugh that seemed to chill the entire room by
several degrees.
    "Conceited little Ayeka," came Ryoko's voice, flat and calm. "Spoilt
little girl..."
    Ayeka drew breath, ready to cry out, but Ryoko raised her arm. The jewel
on her wrist glowed bright orange, casting brutal shadows against the walls.
The glow increased in its brightness and size, before shooting from her wrist
and engulfing Ayeka in a luminous hemisphere. Ayeka tried screaming, but
enclosed in the dome, the sound couldn't escape. She pounded her fists against
the inside of the glowing prison, but it would not yield.
    "Take it easy, princess," Ryoko cackled evilly, "I just wanted a private
word with you. No interruptions."
    Ayeka started shouting again, this time at Ryoko, but the dome cut off
every word.
    "Oh, _my,_" said Ryoko, feigning embarrassment, "such _language_,
Princess! I hope you don't speak to your royal subjects like that. You're a
real nasty piece of work when you're upset, you know..."
    Ayeka went frantic again, kicking her bare feet against the dome,
bellowing with such ferocity she started to feel dizzy. Ryoko's face split
into a huge grin, which she held for a few moments. Ayeka started to calm,
finding herself disconcerted by Ryoko's leering face.
    "I know exactly what you and Tenchi have been up to whilst I was
unconscious," Ryoko said, suddenly angry. "I saw it all. What do you have to
say about that?"
    Ayeka's eyes widened with embarrassment, and her face flushed red. Ryoko
leaned forward, and her head passed through the shimmering bubble. She could
now hear Ayeka perfectly.
    "You...you..." Ayeka began, unable to find her usual composure, "You're
_lying_, you beast!"
    "Am I?" Ryoko sneered. "Then perhaps you'd like to explain what happened
in the forest?"
    Ayeka reddened further, and beads of sweat stood out on her brow.
    "And what about this evening, Princess? When I heard you and Tenchi
talking," Ryoko continued, taking advantage of Ayeka's shocked silence.
    "Wh...what are you talking about?" Ayeka managed.
    "You were thanking Tenchi," she snapped in reply, "for sleeping with you!
_For_three_nights!_ You've always been after my Tenchi, you little bitch!"
    Ayeka suddenly realised the source of Ryoko's anger. She blinked, puzzled
for a moment, then smiled mischievously.
    "_Your_ Tenchi?" she said breezily. "He seemed pretty devoted to _me_
these past few days, you know. Maybe he can't really love a monster,
particularly one so pushy as yourself. All the time you've tried to force him
to adore you, but that's not what he likes. I've gotten to know what he
_really_ likes, these past few nights. Looks like I got the jackpot this time,
little Ryoko."
    Ryoko reeled backwards, feeling her emotions building up again. Through
the silent dome's walls she could see Ayeka laughing. It was quite possibly
the most horrifying thing she had ever witnessed in her life. She fled the
room, and the glowing balloon collapsed behind her.

    Tenchi was glad to finally return to his own bedroom. Apart from the home
comforts it offered, he could finally be assured of the first full night's
sleep in days. He had felt it was his duty to look after Ayeka; after all, he
was of Juraian royal blood too. But three nights of listening to her cries had
taken their toll on him too. With Ryoko's recovery, and the good news about
Ryu-oh, both he and Ayeka could sleep soundly. He flopped backwards onto the
bed and closed his eyes, relishing the glorious silence.
    He could feel his muscles starting to ache as the stress, extra work and
lack of sleep began to catch up with him. He felt as if he'd been on red-alert
for three days, keeping going on adrenalin and snacks alone, having had little
free time to eat properly.
    Ayeka had been the most demanding. She needed to be kept a constant vigil
upon; if left alone for more than a few minutes, he would return to find her
in floods of tears. Sasami, on the other hand, had been a pillar of strength,
and Tenchi knew he couldn't have managed without her. She had looked after
Ayeka when he was working, helped Mihoshi with her chores and been a
tremendous emotional support for him. In fact, her almost uncanny empathy and
immutable logic had kept him from just giving up, when the burdens had seemed
too much. Mihoshi too had been as strong as she could manage, though Tenchi
could not rid himself of the feeling she was barely holding out; her usually
impeccable appearance had often been betrayed by unkempt hair or creased
clothing, and he had seen Sasami comforting her on a number of occasions. He
had neither seen nor heard very much from Washu, though, despite visiting
Ryoko twice a day. Washu had quickly learned to leave him alone, after he
continually tried to persuade her to rethink whenever he saw her. His anger
at her selfishness never surfaced once, keeping his feelings concealed right
up until the incident just before Ryoko's awakening.
    He shook himself. There was no sense in re-running these events over and
over, especially now it had finally blown over. He was relieved that at least
some form of normality would return. No more overworking, under-sleeping.
under-eating, no more persuading, tending, comforting. He wanted to smile, to
feel the freedom of having no more burdens, but he simply couldn't find it in
him.

    Unable to sleep, Tenchi paced his room, staring into the middle-distance,
focusing on nothing. A nagging thought was lodged firmly in his mind, and he
furrowed his brow, trying to clear his thoughts. But it was no use. Only one
thing still demanded his concern.

    Tenchi walked out of his room, treading lightly towards Ayeka's door.
Allowing himself a quiet, exhausted sigh, he pressed the side of his head
against the wood. He could hear nothing through the door; at least she was
sleeping soundly now. He slid the door open a fraction, wincing slightly at
the scrape of the door's runners, excruciatingly loud in the silence. He
suddenly felt foolish, sneaking around like some stupid adolescent, trying to
get a peek at some girl. But Ayeka was not just some girl, not any more. Her
behaviour towards him over the past three days had placed so many questions,
so many doubts in his mind. These were the last things he needed to be
concerning himself with right now. But she had changed him, made him feel
needed, rather than desired, cared for instead of lusted after. Warm instead
of cold. He had liked that. But attached to that was a sense of guilt, a
feeling of disloyalty. He had long since realised he would have to make a
decision some day. He knew it...
    But, so foolishly, he had ignored it, buried it deep in his subconscious,
never wanting to face reality, never wanting to grow up and take the
responsibility, like some idiotic Peter Pan. 'Clap if you love Ayeka' his
subconscious mocked.
    His eyes were adjusting to the gloom, and he peered into the darkness of
Ayeka's room. He could see her sleeping, curled into a ball, with the sheets
thrown aside. She stirred slightly, and muttered quietly; '_Tenchi..._'. He
wanted to walk into the room, to be with her again, but he could not bring
himself a step closer. He didn't want to get too close.
    Three nights with Ayeka had proven too much, he thought. Because, even
seeing her sleeping form before him, Tenchi swore he could hear the sound of
a woman crying, distant, as far off as Never-Never Land.

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

Chapter Four - Just Who Is The Five O'Clock Hero?
-------------------------------------------------

    The following morning, two people did not turn up for breakfast. Sasami
had prepared a huge, delicious spread, comprising some of her most remarkable
and complex recipes, as a way of welcoming Ryoko back. She was now quietly
fuming in the kitchen, her meal untouched, waiting for the others to return.
Ryoko was usually the most difficult to find if she was late for a meal, and
she would often sit in the rafters where nobody could see her. This time,
however, Mihoshi found her standing in the yard, leaning on a broom and
staring vacantly out over the fields. She was reluctant to come at first, but
Mihoshi's insistent tugging at her arm had finally overcome her obstinance,
and she had trudged back to the dining table with her shoulders slumped
forwards. Finding Washu was usually the least difficult. Inevitably, she would
be busy in her laboratory, and inevitably would have lost track of time.
Usually, it would be Tenchi's reluctant duty to fetch her. This morning, he
had barely been gone for two minutes when he burst back into the room,
red-faced and breathless.
    "Come quickly!" he panted. "It's Washu!"
    Ayeka looked up from her rice, which she had been prodding listlessly with
her chopsticks, and saw the panic-stricken look on Tenchi's face.
    "She's gone! She left us this note!" he continued, brandishing a square
of white paper. "She must have sneaked away in the night!"
    Ayeka stumbled to her feet, and stared at the note as Tenchi held it up
to her. The unmistakable scrawl of Washu's signature adorned the bottom of the
page, hasty and untidy as the rest of the note. Ayeka scanned the message on
the note, too distressed to bother reading it properly; she already knew what
it would be about, anyway. She felt the hopelessness returning again, the
crippling depression that had been her bedfellow for so many years, now. The
same feeling she had when Yosho left her, the same as when her original Ryu-oh
had been destroyed, and the same as what the last three days had put her
through. She reached out for Tenchi's arm, but he stepped back, and her hand
found no purchase. She gasped with shock and surprise, and saw Tenchi avert
his gaze slightly. She felt foolish; awkward, embarrassing Ayeka had put her
foot in it again. She found herself fighting back tears once more.
    "Is this all she left?" Mihoshi asked, peering at the note.
    "I'm not sure," Tenchi said, "I didn't have time to search the laboratory
properly."
    "Then we'd better get there now," Mihoshi's voice became suddenly
authoritative. "Attention, everyone! I want you all to go to the laboratory,
and see if you can find any clues as to where Washu has gone. Ryoko! I want
you to accompany me to my ship."
    Ryoko watched the others as they followed Tenchi back to Washu's lab. She
wasn't in the mood for all this. As if her current demeanour wasn't enough,
she hadn't found the inclination to either eat or sleep in over twelve hours,
which she was now regretting. She just wanted to sit here...
    "Ryoko!" said Mihoshi insistently, "Please follow me. You need to help me
find Miss Washu!"
    Ryoko snorted indignantly, and tossed her head. If there was one thing she
wouldn't do right now was listen to this simpleton ordering everyone around.
    "RYOKO!" Mihoshi shouted, her eyes blazing fiercely. "You will follow me
NOW! That's an order!"
    Ryoko went pale, and her jaw dropped open. She got to her feet, swaying
slightly, and clutched at her head, which pounded with the after-effects of
too little sleep and too much saké. She knew she couldn't withstand another
white-hot glare from Mihoshi, and tramped reluctantly after her.

    Washu sat on the cold floor, her chin resting on her folded hands. Her
usually active mind was at a loss, deprived of logical thought but swamped
with feelings and emotions that she was almost totally incapable of dealing
with. She had told herself a million times that she wasn't running, that she
wasn't letting sentiment cloud her judgement, but she couldn't even convince
herself that this was true. She could almost see everyone now; they would be
running about, wondering why she had left, why she had turned her back on
them. There would be confusion and concern, anger and sorrow. She could see
Ayeka, plunged into despair again, fighting the tide of homesickness and
loneliness. She could see Ryoko, enraged and resentful at being abandoned
once more. She could see Tenchi trying to help everyone out, see him getting
weaker and more distressed as the days passed and the demands grew. Every
grain of her instinct urged her to turn back, to take them all in her arms and
make things better again. But she knew it was impossible; she just couldn't
endure such a burden, not any longer.

    Mihoshi and Ryoko rematerialised on the bridge of Mihoshi's shuttle. The
journey had not been easy, and Mihoshi was once again cursing herself for
failing to grasp the complexities of using the Galaxy Police standard-issue
Control Cube. At least Ryoko had stopped sulking now, and was in her more
usual bitching-at-anyone mood, as a result of a misjudged twist of the control
cube that had transported her and Mihoshi into the bath. Ryoko's accusing
glare succeeded in silencing Mihoshi's wailing about the state of her clothes,
her hair and the floor.
    "Where are we now?" Ryoko said wearily, looking around the darkened room.
Mihoshi hit the light switch.
    "We're on my ship." she said flatly. Ryoko let out a yelp.
    "Geez," she said, calming down again, "I hoped I'd never see a Galaxy
Police ship from the inside." She chuckled slightly. "'Course, now my criminal
record's been deleted, you can't arrest me, you know. Juraian Statute of
Limitations."
    "I've not brought you here to arrest you, Miss Ryoko," said Mihoshi.
    "Oh." Ryoko looked puzzled. "Then why did you insist on bringing me here?
Presumably it's something to do with your attempt to finish me off, right?" She
emphasised this by shaking a few more drops of water over Mihoshi.
    "Ryoko, I brought you here because you know the most about Miss Washu,"
Mihoshi said, ignoring Ryoko's contempt. "I'm hoping we can work out where she
is if you can tell me enough."
    "And just how do you propose to do that?" Ryoko snorted. "You're no
genius, you know."
    "You don't have to be so hostile, Ryoko," Mihoshi retorted. She turned to
the console at the front of the room and called out, "Yukinojo!"
    Ryoko was mildly surprised as a shining metal half-dome slid from the
ceiling of the cabin and split open, revealing two staring lenses.
    "Mihoshi!" said the dome, in a voice like a man talking through a metal
pipe. "You've been gone a long time!" The two lenses clicked and focused,
taking in every detail of the room.
    "We need your help, Yukinojo," Mihoshi said to the dome.
    "We, ma'am?" said Yukinojo, "You mean you're working with this...space
pirate?" He swivelled around and managed add a hint of contempt to his
metallic voice.
    "Hey!" Ryoko cried. "How'd you know what I..." Yukinojo cut her off
mid-sentence.
    "I _am_ linked to the Galaxy Police main computer," he said haughtily.
"You are the space pirate Ryoko, once wanted by most of the Juraian Empire,
now cleared under the Statue of Limitations, as specified..."
    "Yukinojo!" Mihoshi intervened, fearing another one of his lengthy
discourses. "Please don't complain. We're trying to locate someone, and we
need your help, if you please."
    "But ma'am..."
    "YUKINOJO!" Mihoshi took a deep breath, and stormed towards him. "I have
been helping these people for days, I have been cooking and cleaning and
mending and I have not been sleeping properly and my hair is a mess and I have
a splitting headache and I've just about had enough so I don't need you giving
me any grief okay?!" She was positively screaming by the end of her sentence,
and her face was so close that her breath was condensing on Yukinojo's
polished surface. There was an awkward pause.
    "Yes ma'am," Yukinojo relinquished, grudgingly.

    Ayeka had been in the Ryu-oh unit for over fifteen minutes before Tenchi
found her. Crouched on the central pedestal, she was studying an unusual
artifact, and didn't acknowledge Tenchi's presence for a few moments.
    "Lord Tenchi..." she said at last, looking up.
    The artifact she was clutching appeared to be a thick octagonal plate,
made of a smooth, metallic-looking substance that glowed faintly, and
reflected any light that caught it in a most peculiar manner. At the centre
of the plate was an oval indentation, within which lay three smaller hollows.
Strings of intricate symbols were engraved around the rim of the disc, looking
like strange and ancient heiroglyphs. Tenchi was surprised at its great
weight as he took it from Ayeka's hands, and had to shift his stance to
balance it.
    "Wh...what is this thing?" he grunted. He decided to put the disc down.
    "I think its one of Washu's devices," said Ayeka. "The writing here is
one of the early native Juraian languages. This must be at least
twenty-thousand years old!" She lifted the disc with one arm. Tenchi was
surprised at how easily she picked it up, despite its weight.
    "Can you translate it?" Tenchi asked expectantly.
    "I think so," Ayeka's finger traced a path around the rim of the disc,
following the strange writing. "It definately mentions Washu, right here."
    Tenchi looked at the baffling symbols that Ayeka was pointing out. He
blinked. Whatever they were, they were totally incomprehensible to him.
    "And here, it says that you are the one that can make this device work.
You're vital to it, somehow," Ayeka continued. "I can't be sure, but I think
this device can bring Ryu-oh back with your help."
    "Me?" Tenchi gasped. "What would my name be doing on a
twenty-thousand-year-old artifact like that? And, as a matter of fact, why is
Washu's name on it?"
    "I don't know exactly," said Ayeka. "But it could be something to do with
members of the Juraian royal family." She studied the runes for a few moments.
"Yes," she said, snapping her fingers. "This is a Life-Matter Infusion Module.
I learnt these were used to build the first ships in the Juraian fleets, a
long time ago."
    "Then this device can make ships like Ryu-oh, and Funahu?" Tenchi said in
disbelief.
    "No. The first ships were mostly machine; only later did we develop
life-tree ships. Nevertheless, this can be used to support life-tree ships.
If we knew how to use it." Ayeka stood up, and placed the module gently on the
ground.
    She was feeling a terrible uncertainty, now. Finally, a chance of hope had
turned up, except the only person who could make use of this advantage was
nowhere to be found. She could not bear the thought of losing Ryu-oh now, not
after she'd come so far. It made her so angry, thinking of how she'd been let
down so by that selfish woman...
    "We must find Washu," she said.

    The last hour had been the longest of Ryoko's life. As if the knowledge
of actually being in a Galaxy Police shuttle wasn't enough to set every nerve
in her body jangling, having to listen to the ditz detective and her stuck-up
computer was beginning to make her yearn for the solitude of seven-hundred
years inside a cave. Mihoshi's line of questioning was meek to say the least,
and seemed to consist of polite requests and apologies, rather than demands
and orders. Thinking about it, Ryoko could see why Mihoshi was such a
successful detective; her interrogations must have been like the verbal
equivalent of water-torture. The non-stop drip-drip of her questioning could
have broken the strongest of wills, she mused.
    "So," she said, sitting up, "just how much has your little computer worked
out for you? I mean, you asked me enough questions..."
    Mihoshi looked up from scrutinising the data on the screens, and wrinkled
her brow.
    "From what you've given me, we were able to determine this much.
Yukinojo?"
    "Yes ma'am?" said Yukinojo wearily.
    "Please give Miss Ryoko a summary of the information we compiled."
    "Very well," he began. "Your descriptions of the last few days have helped
in these calculations, Miss Ryoko, but even I cannot be totally certain that
they are correct. There is a 96.4 percent chance that Washu is no longer on
this planet. Assuming that is the case, her most likely current location is
in the Juraian-ruled eighth sector, heading towards Todain. Mode of
transport; unknown."
    Ryoko stroked her chin reflectively. "Is that all you got? All those
questions just for that?" she said, surprised.
    "The calculations were most comprehensive," Yukinojo boasted. "You might
want to thank me."
    "Thank you, Yukinojo." Mihoshi beamed. She nudged Ryoko in the ribs to
prompt her to do the same.
    "Yeah. Thanks."

    Sasami was getting worried. Once again, she had been left on her own, and
she hadn't seen any of the others for almost half an hour. What worried her
most was that she hadn't seen Ryo-Ohki since last night. She hadn't
immediately realised she was missing, since she had been so busy with
breakfast that morning. It was only when they started their search, and she
had started feeling lonely that it registered that her companion was gone. She
felt like she had walked miles, and her voice was growing tired after calling
out so many times. She had almost given up, when she finally decided she would
go and find Tenchi. He would know what to do.

    By the time Sasami had found the others, they were already gathered in the
remains of Washu's laboratory. They were all engaged in heated discussion, and
she remained unnoticed as she approached.
    "Are you sure that's where she's gone?" she heard Tenchi say.
    "That's what we came up with," came Mihoshi's voice in reply. "I just
don't understand how she got so far in such a short time."
    "The problem still remains," Ayeka interrupted, "that she has left us high
and dry. Only she can save my Ryu-oh, and even if we could get her back, it'd
take weeks! Ryu-oh would be dead by then! She's let us all down!"
    At this point Ryoko broke away from the group and turned to take in the
rest of the empty laboratory. She sighed, and wrapped her arms around herself.
    Sasami was still watching, and she couldn't help but notice the forlorn look
on Ryoko's face. She started towards her. Suddenly, she felt a presence she had 
not known for as long as she could remember, as distant as a long-forgotten 
memory, as tangible as air, present but not quite tactile. But it was familiar, 
an unwelcome face in a crowd, an old adversary. As powerful as the tide, as 
subtle as the breeze...
    "Sasami?"
    She felt Ryoko's hand on her shoulder, and staggered backwards. The glazed
look in her eyes vanished, and she blinked.
    "Sasami, are you alright?" Ryoko's voice rang with genuine concern.
    "Ryoko," Sasami replied, looking up at her face, "I...I came to find
Ryo-Ohki..."
    Ryoko frowned. "Ryo-Ohki? You mean she's gone?" She straightened up.
Finally, something was making sense! She'd become so used to the cute and
furry version of Ryo-Ohki, as opposed to the towering spacecraft, that the
idea had completely escaped her attention.
    "Tenchi!" she shouted. She started running back towards the others. "I
know how Washu left here! She's taken Ryo-Ohki! She's stolen my Ryo-Ohki!"

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

Chapter Five - Absolute Beginners
---------------------------------

    Washu awoke. She hadn't needed an alarm to rouse her; her sleep was
shallow and brief, more so now as she got closer to her destination.
Expectation and anticipation were making her so pensive now she spent all her
time staring out of the viewports at the stars. She would often spend several
hours in the same position, deep in meditation. Within the last few hours,
though, she had grown increasingly restless. She paced the cabin of the
Ryo-Ohki, wearing an expression of great concern. She was beginning to worry
about her mental integrity; here she was, the greatest scientist in the
universe, running away from a bunch of Earthlings, worried about what they
thought of her, just because one experiment had gone awry. One silly
experiment! But she had told herself so many times just to go; to run away
from the shame and the humiliation. An insistent voice in her head had told
her...had told her...
    She couldn't rid herself of the feeling that she was in the wrong place,
that she should be back with her daughter, back where she belonged. She shook
herself. It was too late for doubts, she told herself. Now she was here, she
had a job to do.

    "It's no good arguing about it," Ryoko said. "There is no way we can
catch her up. My Ryo-Ohki is small by any standard, and incredibly fast. She
is a pirate ship after all."
    "So that's it? We give up?" said Tenchi. "We just let her walk out on us,
without even giving chase?"
    "I'm sorry, Tenchi," Mihoshi chipped in, "but even my shuttle can't
catch Miss Washu in under a week. Only Juraian fleet ships can get close to
Ryo-Ohki's top speed."
    Tenchi thought for a moment. They needed a Juraian ship to catch Washu,
but the only ship, the Ryu-oh, was still crippled, and it would never fly
again without Washu's help. He couldn't stand it. Brief visions of him having
to spend the rest of his life looking after Ayeka flashed through his mind.
No-one could withstand _that_.
    "There is still one chance." Ayeka broke her silence. Every pair of eyes
turned towards her, expectantly. "We're forgetting one thing." she said,
leaving a dramatic pause. "Sasami!"
    There was a gasp from in the shadows, where Sasami still hovered, not
wanting to come closer.
    "Of course!" Tenchi said. "Tsunami! Sasami's ship is the most powerful
in the Juraian fleet!"
    "You can help us, Sasami!" Ayeka crossed the laboratory towards her, but
she backed off.
    "N-no..." she hesitated, "It's not that simple, Ayeka. I...I can't..."
Tears began to well in her eyes. "You...you don't understand..."
    "What's wrong?" Ayeka said with concern.
    "I...I can't stay here..." Sasami turned and ran. "I can't stay..." she
was still crying as she left.

    Ayeka returned to where the others were gathered. They were looking at
her, silent, expectant. The laboratory suddenly felt very huge and dark. There
was nothing she could say that wasn't conveyed perfectly by the looks on the
others' faces. She sat down.
    "I guess it was wrong to ask her to call up Tsunami," she said at last.
"She's still too young to control it properly." The others nodded in general
agreement.
    "You certainly have a way with words, princess," Ryoko added, with
shameless rancour.
    If Ayeka had been in any different mood, she would already have had a
snappy comeback ready. Her and Ryoko's verbal battles could rarely be topped
for their intensity, especially when they were most at odds with each other,
which they were regularly. Right now though, she just couldn't find enough
spirit to start anything. She gave a defiant snort, and walked into the Ryu-oh
unit.
    "I think I'd better see if she's okay..." Mihoshi said, feeling a little
out-of-place. Ryoko watched her leave, then turned to face Tenchi.
    "I don't know what you see in that stuck-up princess," she said, hiking
her eyebrows at him.
    "What? What're you talking about?" Tenchi's face started to redden.
    "You know damn well what I mean. Look, you're even blushing now!" She
lifted off towards him, and threw her arms around his shoulders. "You slept
with her didn't you? Whilst I was on my death bed! You just couldn't wait to
get me out of the way!"
    "Is that what this is about, Ryoko? You think that she and I...Is that
what you thought happened?"
    "_Yes!_" she cried. "You...you've _never_ liked me! I _knew_ this would
happen! You really _do_ hate me!"
    She laid her head on Tenchi's shoulders, and grasped his lapels.
    "You hate me," he heard her muffled voice saying. He could feel her tears
starting to dampen his shirt.
    "Ryoko," he began. "It wasn't like that. She and I..."
    "I saw you together in the woods!" Ryoko wept, lifting her head again.
"She was...you were..._kissing_her!_ And...and she said...she said you _slept_
with her for _three_nights!_ Your things were in her room!" She collapsed into
a fresh outburst of tears.
    "B-but really, Ryoko!" he stammered. "Nothing happened! Honest!"
    Tenchi suddenly felt terribly guilty. The woman now sobbing on his shoulder
was crying because of _him!_ Because of what he had done! The room began to
seem bitterly cold.
    "N-nothing? Really?" Ryoko sniffed. "But you were..."
    "I was staying in her room because she couldn't sleep properly. Remember,
I'm part of the Juraian royal family, too. I kind of felt it was my duty."
    "But in the..."
    "In the forest, _she_ kissed _me_," said Tenchi, silencing her with one
finger against her lips, "not the other way around. She was at such a low
then, there wasn't anything else I could do. I assure you, nothing happened
between us."
    Ryoko stared at him. She could sense a vestige of doubt in his voice,
but right now she was willing to let that pass. She clasped him tighter.
"Tenchi..." she said.
    There was a '_whoosh_' behind them, as the Ryu-oh's doorway slid open.
Ryoko suddenly released her grip on Tenchi and stepped back. With a slick move,
she managed to tidy her hair and wipe her face, so she looked at least
presentable. They both looked at each other sheepishly, then at the doorway.
Silhouetted by the white lights from inside, Ayeka stepped out.
    "Oh. Uh, Lord Tenchi. I think we may have an answer." Ayeka spoke
uneasily. There was something about the way Tenchi and Ryoko were standing,
or perhaps the looks on their faces, that made her feel she was not entirely
privy to the current situation. She didn't like the way Ryoko's mouth was
turning up at the corners when she looked at her, as if she was barely
suppressing a smirk.
    "There may still be a way to retrieve the Ryu-oh," she continued, "but I
need your help, Lord Tenchi."

    Washu knew she was near to her destination, not from some navigational
tool, or any special landmarks, but from every instinct telling her so. She
was unsure as to how much time had passed since she left everyone behind on
Earth. She wondered if they were already following her, still trying to change
her mind.
    In some way, she was grateful for the solitude her journey had afforded
her. When she was close to so many she cared for, she could not help but feel
their presence, their sensations, their emotions. When she was at rest she
felt them most, and recently this feeling had turned to confinement;
imprisoned between the crushing walls of their psyche, pressing hardest on
her. The isolation had been a welcome change, to start with. Now though, out
in the wastes of deep space, there was an emptiness, a sort of emotional
agoraphobia, that she hadn't felt since her long years of imprisonment aboard
Kagato's ship, the Soja. This would soon change, she told herself. After all,
wasn't that why she had come all the way out here?
    Outside the ship, a vast bright shape spun gently. Looking like an
immense star-sized catherine wheel, it dwarfed the Ryo-Ohki, as well as a
hundred other ships which hovered around it like midges. Washu even recognised
some of the ships; she'd spent such a long time studying, and even building
ships like them on Todain, in those glorious years at the Space Science
Academy. Washu's deft fingers tapped out a series of commands on the ship's
control panel. With a soft hum, the Ryo-Ohki swung around, matching its
rotation with the wormhole. Slowly, with infinite care, the ship headed for
the centre of the singularity, and disappeared.

    Inside the Ryu-oh unit, Mihoshi was already connecting up a series of
intricate circuits by the time Ayeka, Tenchi and Ryoko arrived. The Ryu-oh
tree was ringed by a mess of wires and conduits, the focus of which appeared
to be the large purple disc that Ayeka had found earlier.
    "Yukinojo was able to provide us with some basic information on the
Life-Matter Infusion Module, so we could connect this up." Mihoshi beamed
proudly at her work.
    "The only thing missing from this device is a source of life energy,"
said Ayeka. "That is why we need you, Tenchi. Or more correctly, the Master
Key."
    "The sword?" said Tenchi, surprised. "I thought that was Tsunami's
Key..."
    "That is true," Ayeka admitted, "but apparently it's the power of the gems
that the Module actually uses; the key itself is inconsequential. Remember how
Kagato was able to use the gems to increase the power to his ship, Soja? The
same principal applies here."
    "Well well, princess," Ryoko said levelly. "Aren't we well-informed all of
a sudden? How'd you manage to come up with this stuff so quickly, hmm?"
    Ayeka paused for a moment. "I'm...not sure," she said eventually, "but I
think this could be the last chance we have. We should at least try it."
    "She's right," said Tenchi, pulling the Master Key from his belt. "The
sword is supposed to have great power, according to the ancient legend." He
crouched by the metallic disc, and traced the strange lettering on it surface
with one finger. Strangely, they appeared to be making some vague sense now.
'Three gems for power,' he thought, remembering the words of the legend his
grandfather had told him so many times. He stood up.
    "I know what we have to do," he said suddenly. He spun around, and grabbed
Ryoko's wrist. "We need your gem, Ryoko. The Life-Matter Infuser needs
all three gems in the sword to work."
    "T...Tenchi, let go," Ryoko winced. Tenchi's grip tightened further.
"You're hurting me."
    "_Please!_" he hissed, baring his teeth. "You've got to give me the gem!"
    "Tenchi?" Ryoko tried to pull her arm away. "Tenchi, stop it!"
    "_The_gem!_"
    He grasped the sword, and pressed it against her wrist. Fat blue sparks
spat from the hilt, and the gem on Ryoko's wrist glowed magnesium-white,
becoming too bright to look at. When the glare had vanished, the two gems on
the sword's pommel had been joined by a third. Ryoko collapsed breathless to
the ground. With the sword clasped in both hands, Tenchi's face split into a
horrid grin, and his eyes narrowed.
    "Lord Tenchi!" cried Ayeka. "What are you doing?"
    "Oh my! Tenchi!" Mihoshi wailed.
    Ignoring their shouts, he strode to the life-tree, and slotted the sword
into the indentation in the middle of the Life-Matter Infuser. Everything went
silent. Tenchi's shoulders and head slumped, like a marionette with its
strings cut. Then the noise began. It began as a low rumble, like a distant
explosion at first, but within moments the throbbing grew louder and more
strident. The floor of the unit began to shake, flinging droplets of water
from the streams around the tree. A million tiny beams of light shot from the
ground, earthing themselves on the branches of the life tree. The tree itself
appeared to be growing, new leaves sprouting from its lengthening branches.
The beams of light grew to a piercing glow, rapidly growing, changing, forming
itself into a shape. The bright silhouette of a human form could be seen, and
as the glow faded, it took shape. Amongst the foliage stood a tall figure,
with its back turned. Its dark cape billowed below a stream of long grey
hair.
    Ryoko peered into the glow, shielding her eyes. "What? Is that the spirit
of Ryu-oh?" she said.
    "Not exactly." The figure started to laugh, a sinister cackling that
chilled everyone to the bone. It spun around, and saw four faces wrenched with
terrible recognition. For Tenchi especially, the angular features, the pale
skin, and the wicked yellow eyes held the most fear.
    "Kagato!"

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

Chapter Six - Ghosts
--------------------

    It had been almost an hour since Ryo-Ohki had touched down on the
planet. She had already returned to her cabbit form, and was feeding joyfully
on a basket of carrots that Washu had brought with her.
    Washu herself was sitting a short distance away, feverishly tapping at
the keyboard of her holo-screen. She paused for a moment, wiping the sweat
from her forehead, and continued. She had been working at this pace for so
long that the aching in her fingers was turning to sharp pains. But despite
this, she worked on, the knowledge of how little time she had left spurring
her on. The wormhole that had brought her here would only remain open for
another few hours, after which she would be three years from Earth, instead
of three days. She blinked quickly, to help her refocus. The display was a
jumble of figures and diagrams, flashing and scrolling faster than a human eye
could follow. Then it stopped. She had found what she was looking for.
    "Ryo-Ohki! We're going! Come on!" she called.
    "Meow?" Ryo-Ohki looked puzzled.
    "I've found him!"
    Without a moment's hesitation, Washu scooped Ryo-Ohki up in one arm,
and started to run.
    "I've found him!"

    "Well, well." Kagato's voice rang through the chamber of the Ryu-oh, as
calm and measured as they remembered. "I do so love it when a plan works well.
You surprise me, boy. I thought you were stronger than that..."
    "_You!_" Tenchi shouted. "I thought you were dead!"
    Kagato let out a contemptuous snort. "You humans think in such narrow
terms. You don't get to live for five thousand years as a wanted criminal
without learning a few...tricks. No, when you defeated me aboard the Soja, I
was merely wounded. Your light-hawk wings were nothing, not compared to the
power of Tsunami. What you saw die was but a simple physical vessel, something
you humans cannot seem to do without. My spirit, freed from its former body
took possession of the nearest organism it could find. The Ryu-oh seed, given
to you by Tsunami as I recall, was a perfect temporary vessel, until I had
regained my strength sufficiently to finish what I started on the Soja.
    "When I was strong enough, I started to manipulate you. Professor Washu
was the easiest to control, since she spent so long around the Ryu-oh, where
my influence was strongest. The rest of you were just matters of setting the
right events in motion. Even so, I myself could not have guessed how things
were to develop. Most intriguing, the boy and the princess. _Most_ intriguing.
Even you, boy, were so simple to direct once you were close enough. Such an
easy target. I see your precious Ryoko is a little disadvantaged right now."
    Ryoko lifted her head, still painfully weak. "K-Kagato!" she managed.
"How _dare_ you do this to my Tenchi..."
    "I already told you, Ryoko," he continued, "I do not care about you or
the boy now. What I still desire is..."
    He snapped his fingers, and a glowing orb phased into existence beside
him. Through the walls of the globe the suspended figure of Sasami could be
clearly seen. She was struggling to stay conscious, and started to reach out
towards the others when she saw them.
    "Sasami!" cried Ayeka. "What do you want with her?"
    Kagato tutted scornfully. "How quickly you forget, princess. The
ultimate power in the universe, Tsunami, still evades my grasp. And now, you
had the courtesy to tell me who really holds the key to Jurai's most powerful
ship. Your little sister was most uncooperative, so I have to try and persuade
her another way..."
    With one smooth movement, he raised one hand towards Ayeka, then
clenched his fist. The air around Ayeka rippled, as if it were being heated. 
She screamed with pain, as she felt every inch of her body being put under an
immense pressure. She writhed, trying to escape the force that held her, but 
it was futile.
    "Kagato! Stop this immediately!" Mihoshi ordered, drawing her pistol.
    With a vicious snarl, Kagato flung his other hand towards her, and she
staggered backwards flailing her arms. With a squeal, she crashed against a
pillar and fell to the ground. Kagato's grip on Ayeka tightened. She was now
capable of little more than painful gasps.
    "Don't think for one moment that you can stop me," he said, his voice
spitting hatred. "Take a good look, princess Sasami. In a few moments there
won't be anything left of your sister. And unless you call forth Tsunami, she
won't be the last to suffer."
    Sasami screamed, thrashing around inside the bubble, but failed to find
anything solid to push against, to break free.
    "Leave them alone!" Tenchi bellowed. He lunged forward with a speed that
seemed to defy sight, and grabbed the sword from its slot in the Infusion
Module. He felt the joints in his arms snapping into a familiar position,
lining up, and the sword's brilliant edge flashed from the hilt. Kagato's face
appeared shocked for a moment, then his lip curled in a derisive sneer.
    "You foolish boy!" he leered. "You think you can beat me twice? And with
that rusty old piece of junk!" He reached one hand towards Tenchi, and flexed
his fingers. Tenchi could feel his muscles tighten, and every movement in his
body seemed to cease.
    "I've tried to keep my temper, boy," Kagato growled, "but you are
starting to bother me. You see? I can control you like a puppet, boy!" Out of
the corner of his eye, he caught a flash of green, storming towards him with
a speed and determination forged of pure hatred.
    "KAGATO!" Ryoko screamed. "You will regret this!"
    He shook his head in mock pity. "Silly Ryoko," he said, "foolish girl.
You cannot hope to beat me now." He tried to reach out to her, to grip her
body, to control her like he had so often in the past. But she was not there.
It was as if her whole presence had been shrouded, concealed by...something.
She laughed bitterly through her tears.
    "You cannot control me now, Kagato!" she said. "Without my gems, you
have no way of commanding my actions!"
    An expression of dreadful realisation formed on Kagato's face, and the
force fields gripping Ayeka and Sasami collapsed, all his attention suddenly
diverted. Ryoko lunged towards Tenchi's paralysed body. Taking a stance behind
him, she grasped his motionless arms, and wrapped her legs around his. There
was a blinding flare, and Tenchi watched with mute horror as Ryoko's limbs
merged with his own.
    "Tenchi..." she whispered, pressing her head close.
    He could feel her movements, the pain and rage of her body, entering his
being, combining into a single fused spirit. She could control him, and he
could control her, his thoughts were her thoughts, her heart was beating for
both of them.
    With a mated scream, they launched themselves at Kagato, and swung the
sword with the strength of two bodies and the ferocity of two souls.

    In the corner of a field rich with fertile crops, a stone house stood.
It was a simple dwelling, rough but well maintained, with a look about it that
suggested many hours of willing labour had gone into its construction. A
welcoming plume of wood-smoke curled from the chimney, and a sprawl of
climbing plants had transformed the walls into a maze of verdant greenery. A
wall of roughly hewn stone blocks led for hundreds of yards from the house,
marking the perimeter of the field. It was along this wall that Ryo-Ohki
bounded, trying desperately to keep up with Washu as she strode purposefully
towards the cottage.
    Washu only paused when she reached the front door of the little house.
The simple wooden door was thick with a layer of dark green paint, which was
beginning to peel in places. With one fingernail, Washu picked a flake off the
door, revealing the numerous multi-coloured layers that lay below, like
miniature rock strata chronicling a history of redecoration. In a way, this
simple detail managed to bring Washu to her senses, finally affirming her
belief that she was actually here, and it wasn't all a bizarre dream. Not
wishing to waste any more time, she took a deep breath before knocking sharply
on the door.
    The silence that followed was almost unbearable, and Washu was already
sweating nervously when she heard the footsteps approaching the door. There
was the rattling of an iron latch being lifted, and with the squeal of
long-rusted hinges, the door swung open. Washu tried, unsuccessfully, to hold
back a gasp.
    In the doorway stood a man. He was tall, but not remarkably so, and his
weather-beaten face gave him a kindly, welcoming appearance. His clothes were
largely simple, apparently hand-sewn, bearing the scars of a hundred minor
repairs and patches. He stroked his grey beard with a work-hardened hand, an
expression of slight bemusement crinkling his aged features. His eyes,
however, were strangely youthful, sparkling like newly-cut jewels and
betraying the elderly appearance of his face. He smiled politely at the figure
before him.
    "Can I help you, Miss?" came his gravelly voice.
    Washu swallowed, and tried to quell the trembling in her hands. She
tried to speak, but the words caught in her throat. She started to feel
foolish, and tried once again to speak.
    "M...may I speak with you, Sir?" she managed. She shuffled her feet. "It
is rather important."
    "Certainly," the old man replied. "Do come in."
    Washu bit her lip nervously, and forced herself to follow him inside,
despite her legs' determination to stay rooted firmly to the spot. The door
groaned shut behind her.
    The interior of the house was exactly as one might surmise from its
outward appearance. The room into which the old man led Washu was warm,
slightly musty, and filled with a thousand fascinatingly trivial curios and
knickknacks. Wooden furniture, brass ornaments and earthenware pots filled the
room, and a crackling log fire illuminated everything with dancing orange
light.
    "Please, take a seat," the old man said, gesturing to a threadbare seat
in the corner of the room. "I will be with you in a moment."
    Washu watched as he walked into the next room, then tentatively sat
down. She gripped the arms of the chair nervously, listening to the spitting
of the fire, and the heavy ticking of the clock on the wall behind her. With
a sigh, she steepled her fingers, and fixed her gaze on the dancing flame in
the grate. She was feeling the familiar mental oppression of the last few days
returning, and was starting to wonder whether she really was in the right
place. This house was so clichéd, yet at the same time so atypical, she found
it hard to believe she was really there; it was just too different from the
last time to accept.
    "I don't get many visitors, nowadays," the old man called from the next
room. "It is indeed a pleasure to have someone else to talk to. Please, make
yourself at home."
    Washu continued to stare at the fire, almost totally oblivious to what
he was saying. She couldn't bear it. She had come so far, and sacrificed so
much, yet right now she would have given anything to be back on Earth. But
then, how could she face the others when she returned? They would all be
demanding to know where she had been, and she would have to tell them she'd
chased halfway across the galaxy, and for what? A lonely old man in a battered
old farmhouse?
    She stood up, finally resolving to settle the situation once and for
all. She walked to the doorway of the kitchen, where the old man pottered
about, preparing a tray of refreshments. He didn't appear to notice her
standing there until she spoke up.
    "You don't remember, do you?" she said simply.
    The old man looked puzzled for a moment. "Remember?" he said.
    "You can't be who I'm looking for. I must've made a..." She struggled
for a moment, trying to bring herself to say the word. "...mistake," she
finished. She stared at the floor in shame.
    "Oh?" the old man smiled. "You never used to make mistakes..." he
crossed the room to her, "...my little Washu."

    Ryoko gritted her teeth, trying with desperation to stop herself from
trembling. It was partly shock that made her shiver, but she was also
beginning to feel cold. Performing the body-merge was a skill she had never
had to use before, particularly when she was so weak, and it had drained her
of every last drop of her energy. She was trying not to look at Tenchi, who
was taking things much better than she was; he had even offered her his jacket
to help her keep warm. She had, of course, declined. She didn't want to show
Tenchi how weak she was, particularly as it was he that had made her so...
    'No,' she told herself, 'it was Kagato that did this to me, not Tenchi. It
was me who saved him. Who saved us all. Why should he think I'm weak?'
    She barely heard Tenchi as he tried to call her. She could only
remember...
    'The look on Kagato's face as we struck, as the sword tore his very 
spirit apart. The brightness and the noise as five-thousand years of hatred 
and evil writhed in its death throes. The sense of accomplishment, of 
victory, of gratification. The feeling when I was so close to my Tenchi, so 
much power, and so much fear. Was I fearful of him, or was he fearful of me?
Or was it Kagato that we were afraid of? But at least we were both afraid
together...'
    "Ryoko?" she heard Tenchi say, his voice quiet and distant. She felt his
hand rest on her shoulder, and she flinched, pulling away from him. It was
everything she could do to stop herself from screaming. She had spent so long
trying to work out what Tenchi thought of her, that finding out in an instant
was to cross an emotional threshold she had never really wanted to seriously
consider. But now it was passed, things were suddenly so different, such a
huge step for her to take. Part of her was longing again for the comfortable
security of ignorance. But another part of her was smiling, running through
fields and laughing, the burdens of worry lifted once again.
    "Tenchi!" she cried, flinging her arms around him.
    Tenchi was momentarily bewildered by her sudden rush of emotions. She
had been quietest after the incident; whilst the others cried and hugged and
comforted each other, she had simply sloped off indifferently, hiding away in
the shadows again.
    "Kagato...He could have killed you..." she sobbed, hugging him tighter.
    "Ryoko," Tenchi said softly, stroking her hair. "It's okay now. We all
owe you our thanks."
    He gently lifted her head, and kissed her lightly on the cheek. Her eyes
widened slightly, and her skin went even paler. In the surge of elation that
followed, she knew that six months of wondering had finally ended. She knew
what she had felt Tenchi thinking was right. She finally knew...
    "You're the best, Ryoko," Tenchi said with a smile.

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

Chapter Seven - The Dreams of Children
--------------------------------------

    Washu was vaguely aware that the old man was talking to her, but her mind,
however, was too preoccupied to listen. Coming here had been a mistake, she
was telling herself, a good idea that had turned bad. She tried not to give
in to the flood of memories that had been dredged from her subconscious, but
even the passage of twenty-thousand years had done nothing to blunt them.
    She remembered the last time she had seen her father. Barely thirteen
years had she known him, and he was sending her to the Royal Space Science
Academy on Todain. She saw the look on her father's face as he left her
there, the final glimpse of the man she owed her life to. She knew how
contacting him would be impossible. So he was never there for her.
    He wasn't there for so many things that had happened in her life. He
wasn't there at her wedding, or to see his new-born grandson. He wasn't there
at her graduation from the Academy. He wasn't there when she needed the
comfort, the support, the knowledge that there was still someone left that
cared for her. He wasn't there to hear her triumphs, or to tell her how proud
he was. He was never there.
    She had wanted so little, and been given less. She had wanted to be with
her father then. But he was here now, only he was twenty millennia too late
to change things.

    "Washu?" she heard the old man say. "I can tell what you must be
feeling. It hasn't been easy for me, either."
    "For you?!" Washu screamed, wheeling round to face him. "I was the one
who suffered! I was let down by you! I waited for twenty-thousand years to
hear from you again, but you never contacted me! Why did you do it, Darius?"
    He shook his head in sorrow. "You still won't call me father," he
sighed. "I shouldn't be surprised, though. I wish I could have told you then
why I had to leave you."
    He struggled to bring himself to his feet. Almost instinctively, Washu
rushed over and grasped his arm to help him up. The simple action of touching
him again after so long seemed to discharge something in her, and her
embittered expression melted into a look of sadness. With a cry of sorrow, she
fell into his arms. There didn't seem any point in veiling her emotions any
longer.
    "I didn't send you to the Academy by choice, Washu," he said, "It was
something I had to do."
    Washu lifted her head, and stared up into features that radiated
sympathy and remorse.
    "During those early years," Darius began, "the Juraians were still at
war, still carving out their mighty empire. No doubt you heard about this at
the Academy. At that time, the Juraian armies were conscripting everyone they
could find with even a tiny spark of scientific genius to aid them in
producing better and more powerful weapons. I myself was brought into their
battles, to develop their great warships. It was either that or face their
slavery for the rest of my life. I put you into the Academy before your genius
was truly realised, to protect you from the Juraian empire. Had they found out
about your ability, you would have been conscripted too."
    Washu had already gone pale with shock. She tried to speak, but could
not find her voice.
    "The war lasted a hundred years," he continued. "In that time I was the
first to devise the life-tree-based Juraian ships. What I devised was better
and more powerful than I could ever have hoped for. I couldn't help but be
enthusiastic about my creations then, even though they were weapons or war.
I told myself the power of the life-tree ships had saved lives by ending the
war decades before its time, but I couldn't even convince myself of this.
    "When my work was done, I was awarded the Juraian Star for 'exceptional
performance'. I'd become no better than them. I used to so love creating
things, making something from nothing. How things change." He shook his head.
    "When I was finally released, I wanted to come and find my daughter
again, to try and start over. But I was scared of what she might think of me,
of what she would say. So I fled to this remote planet, and tried to make a
new life for myself. I just wanted to be left alone."
    Washu stepped back, and slumped into the chair, fearing her legs might
give way beneath her.
    "I...never realised..." she stammered. "I didn't want to think...what
might have happened to you." She simply couldn't take in these monumentous
revelations; she had lived for twenty-thousand years with the firm belief that
she was abandoned and unloved, an outcast in a hostile universe, and this had
been thrown right back in her face. Her father had been afraid of her? All the
time he had been hiding from his responsibilities for fear of what his
daughter thought? With dreadful comprehension, she realised that she had felt
the same way. She too had been afraid to face her father, and as the years
passed it became more and more difficult to bring themselves to confront each
other.
    "I wanted you to be there," she cried. "I wanted you to see me grow, to
succeed, to become everything you wanted me to be. I've hated you for years
for leaving me."
    She turned to face him again. "But now all I want is for you to forgive
me," she said.

    The atmosphere at the Masaki home had taken on an air of urgency as the
final preparations were being made for the journey ahead. Sasami and Ayeka
were tending the Ryu-oh tree, trimming branches, aligning panels. With each
modification, the tree seemed to blossom into light, and every branch grew in
length, making the canopy fuller and healthier. Tenchi and Ryoko were packing
supplies, food and clothing. They hauled the bulging suitcases and bags to the
ship, or rather, Ryoko carried them; she was most insistent that she be
allowed to do the work, to the extent that Tenchi had nothing but his own bag
to carry. Mihoshi had enlisted the assistance of Yukinojo to perform the
complex calculations needed for the launch. Within the hour, they had already
brought the Ryu-oh airborne, and were ready to leave.
    With a frantic pushing of buttons, Mihoshi tapped in the key sequence
to open the sub-space gateway that linked the alter-dimension of Washu's
laboratory to the rest of the universe. It opened above the ship with a
crackling of energy, and the Ryu-oh glided on autopilot through the gaping
hole into the daylight. Out of all of them watching this, Ryoko was the most
stunned.
    "Just how did you manage that without a screw-up, Miss Galaxy Police?"
she taunted.
    Mihoshi pulled her face into a satisfied grin. "Some people just have
a knack for it, I guess," she smiled. Ryoko regarded her with suspicion. She
wasn't sure exactly what 'it' Mihoshi was supposed to have a knack for, but
she was pretty certain it wasn't for lying; she was without a doubt that a
certain arrogant computer had helped the ditz detective with her sums once
again...
    "We should be leaving now, everyone," said Tenchi. "We can't waste any
more time."
    They followed Tenchi outside to the lake, where the Ryu-oh hung
silently, a beautiful, immense impossibility that bobbed and shone in the
sunlight. Its huge wooden arches radiated with the eagerness of newly-cut
timber, and the gleaming central dome looked as bright and polished as a fresh
pearl.
    "Magnificent," Ayeka muttered, her eyes wide with awe.
    "Looks worse than the old one," Ryoko countered, managing to totally
ruin the mood. Ayeka glared at her.
    "Come, let us leave now," she said, defiantly ignoring Ryoko's ridicule.
She stepped forward, spread her arms dramatically, and called out. "By the
power of the Royal command, cast open the ancient path to our ancestors. From
the Heavens to the ocean, from the ocean to the earth, from the earth back to
the Heavens. Bring forth the greatness of age, the strength of past. Let the
gods bless this mighty craft. Show me the path engraved by the light."
    There was a moment's silence. The others waited and watched, expectant.
There was a flash of bright yellow light, and in an instant, they were all
standing inside the Ryu-oh unit, totally awestruck. Mihoshi started to clap,
but felt foolish and stopped.
    Tenchi crouched down to Sasami. "Pretty impressive," he whispered.
    "Standard life-tree activation chant," Sasami replied with a wink. "It's
usually a lot simpler than that, but sister likes to play it up a bit. That
was easily her best one yet."
    Ayeka had already taken up her position at the ship's helm. "Azaka!
Kamidake! To my side!" she called out, again with unnecessary drama. The two
guardians materialised with a '_whumm_' at their posts.
    Tenchi noticed a curious transformation to Ayeka's appearance. She
seemed to stand straighter, with a more determined posture, and her eyes
gleamed like gems. He hadn't seen her so, so..._alive_ since he first met her,
since before her first ship was destroyed. He began to wonder if there was a
stronger link between a life-tree ship and its owner than he first thought.
He knew when a member of the Juraian royal family died, their life tree died
with them, but observing the changes that Ayeka had gone through, he could
imagine that even the life-tree's wellbeing affected the owner. Or maybe it
was the other way around...
    "We're ready to go," Ayeka said, smiling.

    Washu was pacing the room again, this time with impatience and anxiety
instead of nervous worry. In the past hour, she had bared her soul, telling
Darius everything that he had missed, every moment she had needed him, and
every event that had brought her here. Now, in retrospect, she was shocked,
even appalled at how she had conducted herself. She had always prided herself
on her level-headedness, never revealing her thoughts to anyone else. But now,
she had exposed her true colours, in front of the man she most wanted to be
proud of her. She told herself that there was no shame in it, but she couldn't
even convince herself of that. She'd always thought that her Ryoko was
imperfect in that way, shouting, crying, sulking, never shying from her
emotions. Now she could see just how like her daughter she was, and always had
been. She had just been too scared to show it, that the people she had grown
close to might disrespect her. Swearing to make amends would not undo
twenty-thousand years of her life, but she had finally found the courage to
face the music. She had been foolish, she had tried to lead the solitary life.
She'd also been selfish for too long. And now, at least, she'd have the chance
to give some of her life back to who mattered.
    She realised that she was being watched. Darius stood in the doorway,
wiping his hands with an oil-smudged rag.
    "It's ready," he said.

    Tenchi was no stranger to space travel. He had been into space several
times since freeing Ryoko some six months earlier, and was not looking forward
to the journey ahead. Admittedly, most of the times he had ventured off the
planet he had been involved in combat of some kind. And, invariably, this had
resulted in numerous discomforts and injuries, not to mention the terror of
surviving Ryoko's legendarily bad landings. However, he harboured a special
dislike for take-offs. He hated all that violent shuddering, and the almost
unbearable g-forces that he had to endure.
    He was pleasantly surprised to find, then, that take-off aboard the
Ryu-oh was not at all like what he had experienced on Ryo-Ohki. The only
sensation that the launch incurred was a slight feeling of heaviness, like
travelling up in an express elevator. Having only travelled on the somewhat
rough-and-ready Ryo-Ohki, he was pleased to have the comforts of the Ryu-oh.
Naturally, the Juraian royal fleet ships were of the highest quality, for
which Tenchi was glad. The journey would take several days at least, and the
idea of spending it on the cramped Ryo-Ohki was galling at best. But on the
Ryu-oh, he would have a private bedroom, lots of space and pleasant views.
    Or he would have had a private bedroom, if the Ryu-oh had more than two
sleeping chambers. He had discovered this unfortunate situation when, three
hours into the flight, he had heard raised voices, followed shortly by blasts
of energy and enraged screaming. Reaching the clearing by the ship's helm, he
found Ryoko and Ayeka arguing over who would get the bedrooms. Ayeka had
insisted, as captain and owner of the ship that she get the largest room, and
Sasami should get the secondary guest chamber. Ryoko, had of course, told
Ayeka that it was the captain's duty to ensure the comfort of the passengers,
and that she should relinquish the master bedroom for her and Tenchi. Ayeka
had started to lose her temper at that point, and was threatening to put Ryoko
off the ship for making remarks like that. Ryoko had told her to just damn
well try it, and Ayeka had already brought out her shields and guardians
before Tenchi walked onto the scene.
    "Ladies! Please!" he shouted above the commotion.
    The pair stopped immediately, tried their best to look demure and sweet,
and asked Tenchi to make the decision instead.
    "Right," he said decisively. He pointed to Ayeka. "Since you and Ryoko
aren't going to get along in the same room, I'll let you take the master
bedroom..."
    "Hey!" protested Ryoko. "That's not fair!"
    "...I'll let you take the master bedroom," Tenchi continued, "and you
will share with Sasami. Ryoko, you get to share the guest chamber with
Mihoshi. I will find somewhere to sleep outside."
    "Are you sure, Lord Tenchi?" Ayeka fussed. "I hope I haven't caused you
any bother..."
    "I'll manage," he said. "Now has that settled it?"
    The two of them nodded placidly. "Yes, Tenchi."

    One usually associates the basements of old farmhouses with darkness and
cobwebs, old tools and mousetraps, boxes and crates of hoarded junk and
assorted paraphernalia. For the most part, this described Darius' cellar to
a tee. It seemed that if you had hunted through the boxes and tins long
enough, you could have found just about anything. However, one corner of the
basement stood apart from the jumble; it appeared to have been hastily
cleared, to make room for the strange device that now sat there, humming
slightly. It looked like a tall metal cylinder, with four football-sized
globes protruding from it at waist height. The base was looped with thick
bundles of cables and pipes, which wound their way up the cylinder to its
peak. It certainly was not designed to be visually appealing. Washu regarded
it with scientific curiosity.
    "I could never really give up my love of science," Darius said. "I was
determined not to let the Juraian war change me, so I carried on. I've created
few things of any use, and I don't think I enjoyed it like I used to, but I
wanted to show you this."
    Washu was genuinely surprised. Even on a remote planet in a tumbledown
farmhouse, nothing could stop this great scientific mind from working its
miracles. She walked around the device slowly, scrutinising its every detail.
It was built largely from old machine parts, giving it a jerry-rigged
appearance. The most important areas, however, were constructed from shining
new components. She knew such parts were hard enough to construct in her
laboratory. Making them out here would have taken incredible effort and
patience. She could see why he was so proud of it, despite its unconventional
and frankly, unimpressive looks.
    She was lost for words. Saying 'you built this?' would've been too dumb,
and 'very impressive' might seem rather sarcastic.
    "Father..." she managed to say.
    Darius nodded quietly, and walked to the device's control panel. He
flicked a switch, and the machine's quiet humming grew to a rumble. Lights
flashed.
    "I never knew why I built this," he said, "but now I think I know."
    He motioned for Washu to take up her position. She took a deep breath,
and placed her hands on two of the spheres, which she had noticed bore
crudely-chiselled palm-prints.
    Pressing the final few buttons, Darius placed his trembling hands on the
remaining two spheres, and waited.
    The machine's rumbling ascended to a deafening roar, and Washu felt her
arms juddering as the raw energy coursed up every nerve. She blacked out.

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

Chapter Eight - Music For The Last Couple
-----------------------------------------

    When she opened her eyes again, she could see little before her but a
white blur. She blinked a few times, trying to clear her sight, but to no
avail. When she reached her hands up, she realised that it was not her vision
at fault, but that her face was covered by a veil of gauzy material. Squinting
through the veil, she could make out row upon row of people, kneeling either
side of her, forming an aisle. They were all very formally attired, and they
appeared to be waiting expectantly. The scene, what little she could see of
it, had an air of importance and ceremony about it. It seemed oddly familiar
to her, but in what way she could not quite define. Not, at least, until she
noticed what she was wearing.
    She was clad in a beautifully decorated dress, fashioned of impossibly
white fabric. It was adorned with elegantly sculpted flowers and leaves, all
made from the same material, and delicate gold filigree picked out the
garment's intricate details in gracefully understated beauty. It was a dress
that was instantly familiar to her, yet it had been twenty-thousand years
since she had worn it, and then only once. The memory of it, and the most
glorious day of her life were so precious to her, but so painful to recall.
    Peering through the veil again, she could now make out a figure standing
at the opposite end of the aisle of people. It was a person as familiar to her
as the dress she was wearing, and equally saddening to remember. She had known
him and loved him for but a few short years, yet she had felt closer to him
than any other person in the universe.
    It was her husband.
    Every detail about the room, the people gathered, the whole situation
was exactly as she had remembered it from her wedding, two-hundred centuries
ago. Except for one thing.
    She felt someone link arms with her, and she turned her head. Beside
her, her father stood, dressed in a pristine grey suit, with a proud smile on
his face. The music began, and he and Washu started to walk slowly down the
aisle. When they reached the altar at the front, he released Washu's arm, and
she took up her place beside the groom. He lifted the veil from her face, and
she looked up into his eyes. She remembered how happy she had been when this
had all happened before. She should have been sad now, in the knowledge of how
little time she and her husband had together, how long before he was taken
from her. But now she knew her father was here.
    She felt herself drifting, the whole perspective of the room changing
about her. She felt as if she were being pulled away by some unseen force. She
could see herself kneeling with her husband, she could see the other people
in the room, and she could see her father. She clawed out with her arms,
trying to pull herself back into the scene, but it faded before her, becoming
no more substantial than a wisp of smoke.
    The sound of a crying child woke her, and she threw the sheets aside.
In a sleepy daze, she walked out of her bedroom, and towards the nursery. She
had been woken like this a hundred times before, and she had already reached
her son's crib before the realisation hit her. She could barely believe what
was happening, but her astonishment was overridden by the knowledge that her
son needed her. The wailing began to subside as she picked him up, and cradled
him in her arms. After a few moments, she saw her father had entered the room,
and reached his arms out to her.
    "It's alright," he said. "You get back to sleep, Washu. I'll take care
of him for you."
    She looked down in mute disbelief at her son again. When she raised her
head, the nursery had gone, and she was standing in a field of grass, with her
husband before her, holding their son. She watched with anguish as they were
led forcibly away to a waiting ship by a pair of Juraian royal guards, who
spoke in authoritative tones.
    "Marriage to an outsider is forbidden. You are not permitted to continue
a lawless relationship. You are not permitted to see this common female again.
You will be disciplined for this violation of the Juraian code."
    These cold words had not lost their terrible meaning over twenty
millennia, and Washu felt more helpless and rejected than she could remember.
With a scream of anger and remorse she fell sobbing into her father's arms.
He hugged her tighter, stroking her head comfortingly. He was there for her.
    When he released his hold at last, she looked at his face, and saw him
smiling proudly. She turned to take in the rest of the room, which was filled
with a thousand people from a hundred worlds. She staggered slightly as her
father patted her back encouragingly, and she walked forwards. She became part
of a convoy of graduates, all clothed in the ceremonial robes of the Science 
Academy, walking with proud dignity towards the stage at the front of the 
room. As each of them lined up on the platform, ready to receive their
diplomas, she looked out over the gathering, and saw only one face that
mattered. Her father was there for her.
    There was a crackling of energy, and Washu felt the clammy air of the
cellar on her skin again. She opened her eyes, and lifted her hands slowly
from the metal globes.
    "It is complete," her father said. "I hope it wasn't too distressing for
you, little Washu."
    She steadied herself against the wall. "Wh...what happened?" she gasped.
    "I know it's not going to change how I left you," he said, "but I hope
this goes some way to setting things straight. I know I wasn't there for you,
and now I wish it hadn't had to be like that. At least now, I can share in
your memories, be them joyful or sad."
    "My...my memories?" said Washu.
    "The machine has recorded everything you wished me to see, everything
where you hoped that I could be there too. I wanted to make amends for not
knowing my own daughter's life. I can't change the past, but with this I can
be there, even if you don't know it."
    "Father..." she muttered.
    "I know that you cannot stay here for much longer. There are people who
care about you waiting. Your daughter, your friends. They are all worried for
you. I hoped that you might be able to stay and tell me the stories of your 
life in your own words, but I can't ask you to leave everyone who is important 
to you behind."
    Washu nodded, but could find nothing to say. She followed him up the
cellar stairs to the warm living room above.
    Standing at the front door of the cottage, she could feel the cold
outside creeping in at every gap, waging its battle with the heat of the
living room. The fire in the grate had begun to die, and the ashes glowed with
scarlet warmth. So typically she hated goodbyes, and the way they seemed to
drag on forever. But, to some relief, it was not to be like that, not this
time. Ever mindful of how fine Washu would be cutting her departure, her
father tried to keep his farewell brief. She wanted their final embrace to
last as long as she could manage, but the vision of her lonely daughter, and
the thought of being back with her again pulled her away. With a tearful sigh,
she turned to face the chilly air, and gritted her teeth against the biting
wind that had struck up with the approach of nightfall. She had wanted her
father to say something as he closed the heavy wooden door behind her,
something she could remember, a verbal keepsake. But his smile was enough.
    She hugged her cloak around her as she walked across the field, with
Ryo-Ohki on her shoulder.

    Tenchi wriggled uncomfortably on his makeshift bed. He had spent several
hours building his shelter, cadging sheets from Ayeka, a pillow from Ryoko,
and numerous branches from the woods. The actual 'mattress' he had constructed
from folded sheets and the leaves of a huge bracken-like plant was proving
lumpier and itchier than he had hoped. He had set up a crude tent-like
structure from a sheet slung over a hanging branch, for which he was now
thanking himself; sleeping rough in a ship large enough to have its own
weather system meant he was at risk from sudden rain storms, and he had
already seen the gathering clouds overhead just before sunset. Sunset, of
course, was when Ayeka had switched the ship's auto-lighting off, and he had
watched in amazement as the simulated Juraian day faded in seconds to
simulated Juraian twilight, turning the clouds orange. Now, they were
beginning to drizzle their shower outside, which, whilst somewhat unwelcome,
was at least keeping the insects at bay. He listened to the rattle of the
falling water on the canopy of trees, and tried to find a spot of the mattress
that afforded more comfort than the rest. Above the noise of the rain, he
could hear a rustling of leaves, growing steadily closer. Fearing another of 
the ship's surreal lifeforms had found him, he switched on the lantern that 
Mihoshi had given him. He held it up in front of him as he peered tentatively 
out of his tent. With horror, he realised that the single rustling noise had 
become two; a second something was approaching from another direction! He 
thrust the light forward with one trembling arm, and finally saw what was 
making one of the sounds. Standing amongst the undergrowth, looking slightly 
bashful, was Ryoko.
    "Tenchi!" she said, stumbling forward. "Here you are! I've been trying
to find you!"
    She leaned into his tent, and brushed a few leaves out of her hair.
Which was when Tenchi noticed the nightdress she was wearing. It wasn't that
it was particularly revealing; it was remarkably conservative by Ryoko's usual
standard of attire. It was conservative by any standards. However, he couldn't
help noticing how it fell against her skin where the rain had dampened it, and
coupled with that particular way lamplight seemed to emphasise every curve it
illuminated, he found her incredibly alluring. He backed away slightly,
noticing how the second rustling sound had suddenly ceased. At least that was
one less thing to worry about...
    "Wh..what do you want?" he said, trying, and failing, to rip his gaze
away.
    "It's so nasty and cold out here," she smiled. "Why don't you come and
sleep in my room? It's nice and warm and dry there..." She crawled onto his
mattress. Tenchi's eyes widened. "I'll let you have the bed, and I'll sleep
on the floor, if you want," she continued. He realised, with some relief, that
she wasn't trying deliberately to be seductive; she was simply being kind.
With that slight worry gone, he could now concentrate more on the second
approaching noise, which had started up again. The rustling grew closer, and
faster, and suddenly became a bellow of fury.
    "RYOKO!" came Ayeka's scream. "What are you doing in there with Lord
Tenchi?!"
    Ryoko leapt backwards out of the tent, and was caught by Ayeka's angry
grasp. She spun Ryoko around and gripped her by the shoulders.
    "You beast!" she growled. "How dare you! Even now you're trying to be
pushy!"
    Ryoko looked down, noticing the remarkable brevity of Ayeka's lacy
nightdress. Her mouth curled into a smirk.
    "Pushy?" she said, "Then could you tell me what you were up to,
princess, sneaking around out here?"
    "Now hold on just a minute..."
    "_You_ can hold on, princess," Ryoko grinned, "I'll ask Tenchi what _he_
wants to do." She ducked her head back inside the tent. "I'm sorry if I caused
you any embarrassment, Tenchi. I promise not to bother you again."
    Tenchi was always slightly wary when Ryoko was this considerate.
However, he sensed a genuine concern in her voice, and a hint of guilt along
with it.
    "That's okay, Ryoko," he said, forcing a smile. "You were very kind to
ask me. Now, can we all try and get some sleep, please?"
    "Sleep well, Lord Tenchi," said Ayeka, unnecessarily loudly. She brushed
down her barely-substantial nightgown, and pulled its thin straps back onto
her shoulders. "If you need somewhere safe to sleep, I am happy to offer you
my room." She crouched and leant into the shelter and smiled at him, making
damn sure he saw what she was wearing. She gave Ryoko a contemptuous glance,
and walked away through the undergrowth.
    "Sorry," Ryoko said again, with a sad look in her eyes. She backed
slowly out of the tent, and vanished.
    He stared into the blackness for a few moments.
    "Damn," he said.

    He had barely managed to get comfortable again on his makeshift mattress
when an ear-splitting cacophony of noise jerked him awake again. He stumbled
blearily out of his tent, hollering at the din.
    "Attention!" he heard the voices of Azaka and Kamidake booming. "Ship
approaching to starboard! Ship approaching to starboard!"
    He started to run towards the ship's helm, and found he had been beaten
there by Ayeka, who was already issuing commands to the ship. He was relieved
to see she had taken the time to change into a more respectable gown.
    "What's going on?!" he bellowed above the noise.
    "Proximity alert," Ayeka replied. "It's the Ryo-Ohki!"
    Ryoko appeared in the air beside Tenchi, still wearing her light cotton
nightdress.
    "My Ryo-Ohki!" she shouted. "I don't believe it! It must be Washu!
She's come back!"
    With a squeal of delight, she kissed Tenchi on the cheek and launched
herself into air. "She's brought my Ryo-Ohki back!"
    There was a crackle of electricity, and a selection of data screens
appeared in the air in front of Ayeka. On the largest of the screens, Washu's
face appeared. She was pale, but smiling, and she greeted them with warm
enthusiasm.
    "Mother!" Ryoko cried, flying up to face the screen.
    "I can't tell you how good it is to hear your voice, little Ryoko," she
said.

    Washu had been expecting exactly the greeting she received since she had
started her return journey. She used to hate things like that; all that
hugging and crying used to seem so unnecessary; just a frivolous waste of time
and energy. But now, she longed for the company of her friends, and her
daughter. The last few days had taken their toll on her, and before she had
even docked with the Ryu-oh, she had made up her mind what she wanted to do.
And after the reunification aboard the Ryu-oh, she told everyone what she
wanted to do.
    "I need a holiday," she said. The others nodded. "Is your ship up to
full working capacity, Miss Ayeka?"
    "I think so," she said, slightly baffled.
    "Then we're going to Jurai," said Washu.

    During the short journey that followed, Washu had explained why she had
left. Somehow, despite all the trouble she had caused, there was a willingness
to forgive. On the evening of the last day of the journey, a thought struck
Tenchi that he'd almost completely forgotten about. With Washu's return, he
could finally get the answer to a pressing question.
    "That Life-Matter device you left behind," he said, scratching his head.
"Why were our names on it, Ms. Washu?"
    "Oh, that?" she replied. "That was my first-year project at the Academy.
Everyone had to make one. That's why my name was on it. As for your name, it
was actually referring to the Master Key. Same name as you, remember?"
    Whilst that still didn't fully explain things, such as why the Key was
so named, Tenchi was prepared to leave it at that.
    Looking at the display which showed the outside of the Ryu-oh, he could
see the planet of Jurai spinning slowly beneath the ship, its cloud-streaked
surface giving it the appearance of a gigantic marble. He sighed deeply. He
was finally going back to his ancestral home.

    Ryoko opened her eyes. She was glad to feel solid ground beneath her
feet again, and she scrunched her toes into the warm earth. She was so eager
to land on the planet after a week aboard the spaceship that she hadn't even
bothered to change clothes. She was glad to be alone up on the hill; everyone
else had gone to make arrangements for somewhere to stay, but she had wandered
off to see the sights. The breeze tugged the folds of her nightdress, and made
the long grass brush against her legs. She looked out over the fields, taking
in the broad landscape before her. It was such a clear day, she could see the
shimmering thread of water on the horizon that marked where the ocean began.
She turned slowly, and saw a copse of trees surrounding a small lake at the
bottom of an incline. Breathing deeply, she tasted the sweet air, and lifted
her face to the warm sun overhead. Jurai, she decided, wasn't such a bad
place, really. She felt enlivened and energetic, and started to run towards
the lake, laughing with joy.
    When she reached the shore, she crouched and splashed the cool water
against her face. She noticed for the first time a small boat approaching over
the waters, rowed by its single occupant.
    "Hello there!" called the rower, waving his arm. Ryoko stood up as she
saw it was Tenchi in the boat. "It's good to see you!" he said.
    "Tenchi!" she smiled, rushing into the shallow water to meet him.
    He stood up, and let the boat slide to a halt as it reached the shore.
    "Isn't it beautiful here?" he said. Ryoko nodded, feeling slightly
embarrassed. Noticing this, Tenchi became concerned. "Is something the matter,
Ryoko?" he said, extending his arm out to her.
    She let her face drift into a gentle smile.
    "No. Nothing's wrong at all, Tenchi."
    She stepped into the boat.

END.