Frankenstein 1/2

"GENMA SAOTOME'S TIME AND SPACE MISADVENTURES!"

By Jim Robert Bader

Part One.

(Inspired by the works of Rumiko Takahashi &
Mary Wolstoncraft Godwin Shelley)

1816-Austrian Countryside:

There was a storm outside when Mary Wolstoncraft Shelly chanced to look up from styling her hair to catch a reflection in the mirror. At first she thought it was just a shadow, a trick of the light, but when the lightning flash played off some ominously sinister features...well...that was the point where she felt that she had eaten too many canap s before bedtime. There certainly was no way that anyone could be standing there, it simply had to be a figment of her imagination.

Said figment was not there when the next lightning flash occurred, so-
reassured that the horrific vision was not for real-she returned to the more serious business of making herself presentable for when her husband, Shelley would be greeting her in bed in another hour or so, once he and Lord Byron were done swapping lies and trying to impress each other with poetry recitations.

Of course the image refused to go away no matter how hard she tried to banish it, of a giant form nearly eight feet in height with sallow-green-tinged skin and a face that could stop a clock at a dozen paces. How odd to have a vision of such a face on a night such as this, when she had participated in a little parlor game with Byron, Shelley, Hunt and Elizabeth, trading stories like errant children trying to frighten one another with whatever horrific ghost story they could think up. It had all seemed perfectly morbid, yet harmless, a mere diversion to while away a dull evening while thunder and lightning rained outside, spoiling any chance for a little romantic star gazing together.

The problem was that, when it came her turn to tell a story, Mary's formidable imagination quite remarkably failed her. With all her considerable literary skills she hardly was the type who actively believed in ghosts, goblins and fairies, and to tell quite implausible stories about them seemed to her in very poor taste. Being part of the rationalist movement at heart, she simply found it hard to conceive of anything more horrific than the evils that ordinary people could do to one another, the recently concluded Napoleonic wars, for example...

Her imagination came to life just then, for she thought she saw something huge slip by out of her peripheral vision, a form moving so lithely on its feet that it indeed appeared to be a shadow. By the time she had fully turned around it was gone from sight, but not before she caught a glimpse of the door to her chamber closing on its own, though there was no wind in the room, other than the passage of a breeze that played lightly about her high cheekbones.

For a moment Mary just sat there and stared in disbelief, feeling her heart hammering in her breast as she summoned up the courage to investigate, wondering just what it was that had crept silently past her in search of her bath chamber. Mary had recently quitted herself of the scented waters that she had left standing for the servants to later empty. It crossed her mind that whoever was in there now intended on using her bath, but why anyone would feel compelled to use stealth rather than asking...

Curiosity got the better of her, and without a word Mary stood up and tip-toed over to the bath chamber, pausing to cautiously open the door without making a sound, just wide enough that she could stare through it and see who it was who had been making such an enormous shadow.

She nearly gave out a cry of alarm, because a virtual giant filled the space before her eyes, impossibly huge, so large he had to duck his head rather than strike it against the ceiling, and he was indeed facing her bath with his back to the door as though contemplating the bathing water, then without a word he raised two massive hands and held them in front of himself, murmuring softly to himself in a deep, resonant voice, though the words he uttered were clearly in a foreign language.

The next thing she knew, Mary was gasping in amazement as the man's body began to crackle with sparks, a weird light surrounding him in a coruscating blue-
white fire, bolts of electricity lancing about the room as he brought his hands forward and shot electricity into the water.

A few moments later the fire died away, and the cold waters of the tub began steaming. With a grunt of satisfaction, the giant then proceeded to shrug off a fur coat that looked like it had been taken straight off a large bear, then to Mary's amazement he began to shed the rest of his clothing, revealing a body that was powerfully built and yet criss-crossed with scars and stitches, as if the whole of his body were a patchwork of mismatched parts rudely assembled together...and yet WHAT A BODY! Mary's eyes got ever larger the more she took his dimensions in, and then when he started to move forward she got a better glimpse at the rest of his equipment and...

"Oh my..." she murmured faintly, wondering whether or not to faint in a properly ladylike manner.

To her amazement the giant stepped into the tub, which was scarcely large enough to accommodate his huge frame, then settled in with a grunt of satisfaction, causing water to overflow the banks as he soaked in the heat and seemed to relish the sensation.

Mary debated what to do about the matter, whether to scream in alarm or to remain where she was rather than risk alerting the man to her nearness. He had long and scraggly brown hair, his face turned away from her, yet clearly the source of that horrific vision she had witnessed illuminated by lightning. She waited and watched as the man remained sitting in the tub, the water no doubt cooling itself down to room temperature as he body soaked in the heat, growing gradually colder the longer he remained there...

And then the most amazing thing happened...before her very eyes Mary saw the giant begin to shrink inward on himself, his hair altering color from brown to reddish gold and lengthening considerably, even as his shoulders grew slender and he began to settle in more comfortably in the bathwater. A moment later there was no giant at all but rather a form that was distinctly feminine and of normal coloration. Mary found it hard to believe that such a transformation was even possible, and yet the evidence before her eyes was irrefutable...her mysterious guest was some manner of changeling!

She started to back away when her foot encountered the edge of her nightgown, tripping her up slightly as she stumbled to her knees, making quite a bit of noise as she gasped and complained out of an automatic reflex.

The redhead in the tub whirled about and said, "Who's that? Who's there?"

When Mary did not reply she vaulted out of the tub, grabbed up a dingy shirt in passing and came bursting out of the room, finding Mary looking up at her in astonishment that bordered on panic. As Mary started to open her mouth in a belated attempt to cry out she suddenly found the nearly-nude woman had clamped a hand over her face to prevent her from issuing anything more than a light grunting.

"Don't try to talk, Lady," this stranger insisted, "I'm sorry if I bothered you, but you don't need to be afraid of me, I won't hurt you, honest!"

Mary eyed the redhead dubiously but reluctantly gave up on fighting for her freedom. Whoever this was, she had Mary dead to rights and there was little to be gained from putting up even a token of resistance. More to the point, this stranger's grip was like nothing else she had ever experienced before, and the strength of her arms was nothing less than superhuman! It was plain enough that if she intended Mary any bodily harm that this stranger could snap her in two with very little effort!

"Look, I'm just a wanderer passing through this territory, and I needed a quick bath," the stranger continued, "And since this chateau was on my way out from this berg, I just wanted to stop in and get out again without causing you any trouble. Now...I'll let you go, but no screaming, okay? If you scream, then I'm gonna have to knock you out and tie you up for morning. Won't do any good anyway...the men you're with are all downstairs as drunk as fish and twice as useless."

Drunk? That caused Mary to frown a little. Shelly did have a tendency to overindulge a bit in the Opium and Spirits when he and Byron got into a "pissing contest," as they sometimes crudely defined it...more like two overgrown schoolboys daring one another to come up with the most outrageous lies, and to do it with rhyme and meter, while they both got so sloshed that they wound up no use to anybody. Hunt was a bit more restrained about his drinking, but in the company of those two "rowdy gentlemen" he might well get roped in and wake up in the morning after a real bender.

Too bad for Elizabeth, and even worse for Mary!

So her fear became annoyance, an expression that the strange redheaded girl seemed to easily translate as she took her hand away from Mary's mouth, looking ready to replace that hand should her captive give even a hint about preparing to scream bloody murder. Instead, much to the stranger's surprise, Mary just looked at her crossly and said, "You could have tried asking first."

"Lady...believe me," the stranger huffed, "If I'd tried asking you a few minutes ago, you wouldn't have said yes on a bet."

"Why?" Mary asked, "Because you were that giant?"

That took the stranger by surprise, who almost backed away in dismay before saying, "What are you...?"

"I saw you change," Mary replied, "Right before my eyes...most incredible, that. How was this accomplished?"

"Uh...would you believe me if I said...Magic?" the redhead responded with a somewhat sheepish expression.

"I don't believe in any such thing as magic," Mary replied, the pure rationalist asserting her position.

"Lucky you," the redhead grumbled, "Me, I never had that option."

Mary was puzzled as she studied the beautiful creature before her, finding it hard to reconcile her with that vision of ugliness from before, which prompted her to ask, "Who are you?"

"I...don't really have a name," the redhead shuffled slightly, "But the Doctor...the guy who, um...brought me into the world...he liked to call me Adam...real Biblical guy, if you can believe that..."

"Adam?" Mary cocked an eyebrow, "Not Eve?"

"Oh no," the stranger said dismissively, "She's somebody else. It's...kind of a long story..."

"I'm listening," Mary replied, "You might as well tell me since...it seems that will be the only action I get this night," she noted with faint disgust, glancing at the doorway through which Shelly would not be hailing until he dragged himself to the room somewhere before morning.

"Naw, I'm not here to tell stories," the redhead sniffed, "In fact, I'll be on my way now..."

"In that smelly old thing?" Mary wrinkled her nose, "You could at least consider borrowing one of my dresses."

"Huh?" the redheaded creature blinked her eyes, quite unprepared for that offer.

"Look," Mary tried to sound reasonable, "It's obvious enough that you're in some kind of trouble. Is there someone who is after you?"

"Huh," the redhead snorted, "Lady, there's always somebody after me for one damned thing or another...been that way for as long as I can remember."

"Why?" Mary asked, "What did you do?"

"I ain't done nothing!" the redhead protested, then paused before adding, "Not on purpose anyway...things...just kinda happened..."

"Such as?" Mary inquired.

"Aw...you don't wanna know that," the redhead snorted.

"How do you know?" Mary asked, "It seems to me as if you have quite a story to tell...and I am always interested in hearing about interesting stories."

"Look, I really don't have time to sit around and tell campfire stories," the redhead replied, "I've gotta head on down to the coast, I need to catch the first boat for America and all that..."

"Really?" Mary arched an eyebrow, "And what part of America most interests you?"

"The wilderness part," the redhead replied, "I hear that South America's pretty open this time of the century, and a guy can get himself real lost in one of those rainforests..."

"You wish to lose yourself out there?" Mary asked in curiosity, "Why?"

"Because people like you ask too many damned questions," the redhead replied, "And they often don't like the answers."

"You would be surprised at where my tastes run," Mary mused, "I'll make a deal with you...if you will abide with me for a few hours and relate your story, then I will have your things washed and cleaned by the servants, and I will give you a fine dress that fits your womanly curves so that you won't have to run around like a gypsy all of the time..."

"Hey, I've been around real gypsies," the redhead responded, "They ain't so bad as people go...at least, no worse than most, except maybe around outsiders..."

"You don't say?" Mary asked, all the more intrigued, "So...tell me, do you have any money?"

"Money?" the redhead blinked.

"That's what I thought," Mary smiled, "How do you intend to afford passage to the Americas without any money?"

"Who said I was paying?" the redhead countered.

"You would stow away and risk discovery on board a ship?" Mary marveled, "Do you have any idea what they would do to you if you were discovered?"

"Hah, lady, that's the least of my worries," the redhead snorted, "I can handle myself if it comes down to it..."

"Perhaps so," Mary judged that the wiry package before her would doubtlessly prove more of a handful than many men could handle, but she smiled just the same and said, "What say I give you something to send you on your way for your troubles. You can consider it a loan...unless, that is, you intend to rob me."

"Hey, I ain't no thief!" the redhead protested.

"And no one is accusing you of that here," Mary reasonably countered, "But if you consent to remain here and tell me your story, I would consider the gift of a few pounds, and a dress worth considerably more than that, to be adequate compensation for your troubles."

The redhead just blinked at her then said, "You'd pay me...to hear my story? Why?"

"Because what you have hinted at me so far implies a story that I am absolutely dying to hear," Mary replied with some eagerness, "Please consent to share with me the details of your adventures...it sounds to me as though it will make a most diverting tale, perhaps even one worth converting into a novel."

"You'd want to tell my story?" the redhead scratched her hair with a puzzled expression, "In a book? I mean...no offense, lady, but are you nuts? Who'd want to read it?"

"Bored society girls looking for love and romance, of course," Mary responded, feeling rather authoritative on that particular subject, "Please...I simply must know what has brought you here, and to such a state. That giant I saw before...how did that happen to you?"

"Uh...well...would you believe that giant's what I actually look like?" the redhead glanced down at her near-nude condition, "I mean...this is just the effect of a curse that got laid on me..."

Mary had to blink twice at that before saying, "You call that a curse?"

"Yeah," the redhead snorted in self-derision, "You'd think it wasn't huh? Well, let me tell you something...you wanna hear a story? I got a story, and it's all true, not that I expect you'd ever believe it..."

Mary eagerly nodded that she wanted the stranger to elaborate, and so began a tale unlike any other, one quite unbelievable, and yet oddly compelling, in a horrifically tragic-comic kind of way...

1797-Countryside of Vienna

"I've done it, Henry...I've created life!"

"Victor?" said Henry Clay, lab assistant and colleague to one Victor Frankenstein as the latter all but danced gleefully on celebrating his achievement.

"After years of study and research...I have finally done what no one has achieved before me!" Victor proclaimed in exultation, gesturing to the homunculus body presently twitching to life upon the table before them, "You see? My creation lives...he lives and breathes because I have discovered the means of animating the dead...the secret of life itself is now within my grasp! Just think of the possibilities, Henry? Life eternal itself is now ours for the asking!"

The land that twitched to life clenched itself into a fist, though the rest of the body remained obscured beneath a tarp. An eyelash flickered open, then another, and a figure stared up at a cloth-wrapped universe that extended no further than the length of an eyelash. From some deep recesses of newly kindled consciousness came the question that bubbled to the surface, "Where...am...I...?"

Of course all that came out of a newly revitalized throat was an incoherent, "Mnnngaaahh?"

Henry nearly jumped out of his skin upon hearing this, but Victor was all the more elated, "Did you hear that? Henry...it's alive...and it's trying to communicate!"

"Um," Henry tried to think of something intelligent to say, but every instinct was telling him to bolt for the door as fast as he was able. Fortunately for his peace of mind, it was their lowly man-servant, Igor, who pointed out the obvious.

"Do you think maybe he wants to see where he is, Doctor?" the misshapen hunchback inquired.

"Of course he wants to see where he is, you dolt," Victor snorted, "Just as I wish to gaze upon the glory of my own creation!" and with that he uncovered the tarpaulin, revealing the body that lay underneath, to which Henry fervently wished had remained fully hidden.

To pit it in as mild a term as one might have been able...the creature was truly hideous beyond imagining! Stitched together from different body parts, some mismatched to one another, the face alone a sickening grayish-green color with scars in place where they had been sutured, it was enough to make a strong man puke, but to Victor this monstrosity was beautiful beyond imagination.

"Yes!" he declared in delirious glee, "His eyes are moving...they match perfectly in focus. Oh...well...one's a bit discovered and all that, but the important thing is that I was right about there being nerves which connect the two and make it possible to focus. Of course the true test of my genius will be if the brain itself functions like normal...such a delicate instrument that needed great care in preserving when transporting from its previous host into this one. Let's see now...how do the reflexes function?"

Victor took a small mallet from his stock of medical equipment and selected a knee on the giant before giving it a light tap, only to see the leg kick out with such force that it broke the straps that were supposed to restrain it. Victor jumped back, but not from alarm, more from amazement as he cried, "YES! His nervous system is intact! He can feel his extremities! Oh, I truly am a GENIUS!"

"Nnnnuuhh?" the creature responded with a totally bewildered expression (or so one might interpret it that way, being that portions of the face were not yet fully mobile).

"Uh..." Henry wondered if fainting dead away would be a good idea at this point, for not only was this THING technically "alive," but it had just demonstrated an enormous strength well beyond anything that had been factored in during the process of his creation.

"Uh...wonderful, Master," Igor remarked faintly, "But...did you have to make this guy so big?"

"Of course, you idiot," Victor snapped as though his own genius were being questioned, "It was necessary to size everything just right in order to approach the perfect balance of form and function in my creation. You know as well as anyone the care and detail which I have placed in every aspect of this creation process, from the selecting of body parts to the weeks of careful preparation as I soaked them all in the chemical solution that preserved and restored them. I used my great grandfather's book on Alchemy to formulate the solution, of course, precisely following in detail its description on how to create the perfect Homunculus, but my creation is no mere fabrication! These are the parts of dead bodies which have been combined to create a greater whole, fused together with the intricate detail of a fine tapestry, and given the baptism of electrical fire to awaken him to life itself! He is thus resurrected, a modern-
day Lazarus, like the first men shaped from the raw clay of the dust at the hands of a Prometheus, the perfect blending of Natural Science and Ancient Wisdom, who has proven my theories correct about the Biochemical and Electrical nature of living flesh itself! Now my creature lives, and gradually he will become stronger, better, more alive than any mere mortal who now walks upon this planet!"

"Are you saying that this...thing...is some kind of a Devil, Victor?" Henry asked, not liking the way the creature seemed to be following their conversation.

"Not a Devil, Henry," Victor corrected, "Although he may not look like much now, the spells that were crafted into his design will slowly begin to work their magic within him, and the electricity that now fires his every muscle bone and sinew will slowly but relentlessly work to heal the rifts that remain as a result of his being a patchwork creation. Wait and you will see his separate parts coming gradually together into a stronger whole, just as the ligaments, which I attached, will become fixed in place as though born of one flesh and body. Oh, he may have a few scars as the result of the process, and he'll never quite be a raving beauty, but over time his features will become less hideous and deformed...even the body parts which don't quite match precisely in size will slowly adjust to find a state of equilibrium. This is because the life energy in which I have infused him is a hundred times greater than the force of life which pulses within our own bodies..."

"Does that mean he'll be a hundred times as strong as us, Master?" Igor nervously asked.

Victor paused to consider the question, then said, "I...don't quite know just yet. I haven't adequately calculated what his real strength threshold will be, but I dare say it will be a lot more than twice what one would expect, given his enormous body mass. Of course the body is not the full extent of the matter...it is the brain which most concerns me! I hope that the genius of the mind, which I borrowed from my late and lamented colleague, will survive intact in this new creation...though, sadly...I fear he will never fully remember everything. In point of fact, he will be much like one newborn who must learn all over again the basics of everything, from walking to talking..."

"Talking?" Henry asked, "He can talk better than...this?"

"Guuuhhhnnnggg?" the creature mildly inquired, hoping that his communications skills would definitely improve, even if he had one heck of a sore throat at the moment.

"Oh, give him time to rest and I dare say he will be able to recite the alphabet in either English, Swiss or Latin," Victor waved the point away then sighed, "I tell you, Henry, this is truly an extraordinary moment for me...one that I have labored for years to achieve. Now...looking on that ugly and misshapen face, I can't help but feel like a proud father who has just given birth to his first child! Oh, if only I dared show him off to Elizabeth...her father would not be so quick to label me a crackpot!"

Henry wanted to dispute the point, but dared not contradict his friend and employer. Privately, though, he reflected that it had been one thing to look at this ugly mass of stitched together body parts when it was just a dead hulk laying on a table...but to see it all come together now and move like a living thing...it fairly made his skin crawl! He could not help feeling that their work had been both unethical and unholy, no matter what nobility Victor attempted to adorn it with, the violation of everything that was sacred and a naked attempt to thumb one's nose at the all mighty! Just gazing at the naked giant was enough to make his stomach roil in protest, yet all Victor seemed able to see was his own mad genius, which had spurned them all into this hideous folly!

"But Master," Igor once again pointed out the bloody obvious, "Are you sure all parts are working as advertised here? And what will you do if the creature proves dangerous?"

"Don't be a simpleton all of your life, Igor," Victor snapped, "I'm sure that he will be quite grateful to be given another chance at life, once I have taken the time to properly educate him into civilized behavior...after all, he was a gentleman in life, right?"

"Uh...if you say so, Master," Igor replied with a dubious expression.

"Oh, Victor!" a feminine voice called up from the lower stairwell, "Are you up there in your lab, Victor?"

The exhausted and somewhat crazed Victor turned away from his dreams of glory upon hearing that voice and cried, "Oh God, Elizabeth? What's she doing here? I thought I told her to wait at the chateau..."

"Nnnguuuh?" the Monster seemed to shift the focus of his attention to the sounds of dainty footsteps on the stairs.

"Yes Gods," Victor looked around wildly from the stairs to the Monster and back again, "I can't have her seeing my creation like this, not when he is only half-
restored and fully naked! We must cover him up again and..."

"Master!" Igor said with some alarm as he pointed, "Look...he's alive all right, there can be no doubt about it!"

Henry gasped at the most amazing thing which happened right there and then...for between the legs of the Monster his limp member began to stiffen and grow to full life...an enormous rod that slowly lifted up to stand like the leaning tower of Piza, saluting the heavens like a flag pole for one and all to see. More than anything else so far, this singular event caused Henry's knees to weaken, for it was a truly awe-inspiring testament to Victor's genius...if genius it was in attaching a horse's member to the body of one allegedly human!

"Good heavens, Man!" Victor exclaimed, "Get the tarp over him this instant! You want my fianc e to be frightened out of her wits?"

The hunchback and Henry wasted no time getting the tarp back over the body of the Monster. It did little good to hide the raging hard-on, though, but it certainly put Henry's mind somewhat to ease not having to look at the thing again, even as Elizabeth chose that moment to reach the top portion of the stairwell.

"Good heavens, Victor," she said properly, fanning her nose with a hand, "What is that wretched smell? Don't tell me you've spent all your time up here breathing these fumes?"

"Elizabeth, Darling!" Victor greeted her with open arms, almost stumbling from his state of near-exhaustion, "What are you doing here? I asked for you to wait for me at a hotel..."

"After all the time that I've been waiting for you since I rode a coach here from my father's estate?" Elizabeth replied, a radiant beauty whose long blonde hair hung in curls about her shoulder, "For shame, Victor, ignoring me like this..."

"But dear, my work has been so very important to me..." Victor began, when as "MMMnnngg?" sound emanated from the table.

"What was that?" Elizabeth blinked.

"What was what?" Victor replied mildly, having a perfectly bland and innocent expression.

"That sounded like a noise," Elizabeth replied, trying to peer past her fianc e's shoulder.

"Oh, that's just Henry," Victor lied, "He has a bad head cold at the moment...to many long hours helping me to set up my electrical experiments, I fear..."

"Oh?" Elizabeth asked with a dubious expression.

"Yes," Victor replied, keeping a firm-but-gentle grip on his lady's forearms, "Why don't we go back downstairs and I'll freshen up for a bit, then I'll take you out to dinner...as a point of fact, I feel like celebrating."

"Nnnnuuuh?"

"There it is again!" Elizabeth all but jumped, "Are you sure that's Henry? It doesn't sound quite like him..."

"Oh, but it really is a very bad cold, I'm afraid," Victor turned an annoyed glance over his shoulder and added, "Henry really should get some rest, he's been such a help to me these last few weeks, I really don't know what I would have been able to achieve without him..."

"And what about Igor?" Elizabeth inquired.

"Igor?" Victor seemed puzzled by the question, "Well, I suppose he has been of some small use, in a bumbling sort of way..."

"Oh...Master!" Igor almost gushed with gratitude, those words being the closest thing to praise that he had ever received from the son of his noble Baron.

"Well, I suppose it would be good to get away from this horrible place," Elizabeth wrinkled her nose in distaste, "And what about you, Victor? Have you been eating well and getting enough rest?"

"Why, only as much as I have needed, my Sweet," Victor replied, showing off more of his slightly crazed expression, "The brilliance of my experiments has been what has sustained me in the absence of your tender affection..."

"Guuuh?" the Creature responded, wondering why those flowery words sounded so familiar for some vaguely disturbing reason.

Again Victor flashed an annoyed look over his shoulder and made a frantic hand-
motion where his lady could not see it. Igor thought he understood the command to pacify the creature, so he took up a shovel that had been sitting next to the wall and aimed the flat of it at the protruding member, whacking it good and hard in the hopes that this would dispense with that annoying hard on.

"GGGGUUUUUHHHHH!" the creature exclaimed, suddenly bucking against the table as his eyes went cross-eyed.

Victor felt like rubbing his temples to ward off a massive headache, which-in point of fact-he did, thereby confirming to Elizabeth that his state of health was entirely too fragile.

"Victor...you've been working yourself almost to death, just look at you! Your skin is so gray and pallid, you're almost like the walking dead!"

"Gnnk!" came the small, slight whimper of the creature.

"You're coming downstairs to bed with me," Elizabeth seized Victor by one arm and drew him along with her back towards the stairwell, "And I won't hear any words of protest, do you understand me, Victor?"

"But-!" the mad genius sputtered as he sighed and relented to the inevitable.

"Oh, and Henry," Elizabeth called back, "Do something for that cold...you sound positively ghastly."

"Ah...yes, Your Ladyship," Henry replied, only to exchange looks with Igor as the two of them found themselves in the unenviable position of wondering what to do about the creature in whose presence they now found themselves, both men eyeing the writhing tarpaulin with mutually dubious expressions...

"Why, how horrible!" Mary exclaimed as she sat across her bed with the redhead, who was herself now draped in a borrowed night dress, "Your creator sounds like a perfectly awful human being."

"I wouldn't really know about that," the redhead shrugged, "I've met a lot of worse people since my creation, but Victor was a real prize, I think the only thing he could see beyond his own ambition was Elizabeth, and she had way lots more sense than anyone would have suspected at the time. Also one hell of a lay, not that Victor ever seemed to take the time to appreciate that about her..."

"What?" Mary sounded shocked, "Are you saying you...violated her?"

"Uh...no, that's not how I would put it, no siree!" the redhead winced, "Truth is...we didn't even get to meet each other properly until quite a few years had passed, but that's getting well ahead of the story. The truth is, I was just a baby right then, hardly even new born, and though I was artificially created I had a soul and a conscience, and I started wondering early on about just why I was created."

"Didn't your creator tell you about that?" Mary wondered.

"Not right away, and I didn't exactly stick around for explanations," the creature (who seemed all too human at the moment) answered, "You see...getting whacked in the nuts like that didn't exactly give me a good sense of what I was in for if I stuck around and waited for Victor to recover, so...just as soon as I was able, I got up off that table and took a powder."

"You mean you escaped?" Mary asked.

"Yeah, busted right out of there before anyone could stop me," the redhead nodded, "The straps weren't much of a problem, and neither was the door. Of course once I was outside of the tower I had a different kind of problem...you see, I had only the tarp for protection against the elements, and when I stumbled out into the forest...that was when my real problems started."

"Real problems?" Mary arched an eyebrow.

"Yeah," the creature snorted, "That's when I ran into...HIM..."

Saotome Genma heaved a sigh as he stared at a pine needle canopy, for the first time in his long life having an understanding of what it must have felt like to be a Hibiki. He hardly needed to be told that this was not Japan in which he presently had been trans-located. In point of fact, it looked a bit too much like that Gaijin-infested Britain which he had thought himself well acquitted of once Merlin had cast his spell to send him into the future.

"I always thought that Frog Kisser was playing a little too much with his wand," Genma sourly grumbled, wondering what year it was and what part of the Kami-
forsaken European landscape he had been transported to this time. Japan was probably a very long ways away from there, and who knew what era it was, or even if there would be anyone there who would recognize Saotome Genma. He needed to find his way back somehow...these many years away from home had actually made him feel nostalgic, and in spite of many interim affairs, he was missing his real wife, Nodoka.

"I wonder if the Boy even knows I'm missing," he grumbled to himself, although to which "Boy" he was referring would have been a bit of a tossup. His son...his REAL son would have been one thing, but then there were the other charges whom he had helped to raise to manhood, and the impression each had left upon his training.

There was Conan, of course, the surly dog who had won the throne of an empire after more than twenty years of tutorage in the Anything Goes school, then there had been that semi-divine brawler, Herakles, followed in turn by that young cub, Arthur. Each had grown to become mighty heroes and accomplished martial artists, and at the end of each mission Genma had been assured that his wandering adventures were over, that he would be restored to home and family, and away he had been whisked back into the timestream.

Only this time Merlin appeared to have missed his target by quite a long margin. Genma had seen many examples of a rustic society which had yet to discover the automobile, and the style of dress was fairly archaic. It reminded him a bit of pre-Meiji era Japan before the industrial revolution, but the people here had definitely invented the use of gunpowder...that point had been demonstrated at the last farm which Genma had raided, making off with a few chickens before having to dodge the hiss of a musket ball fired his way by an angry farmer.

So far he had not stopped to ask anyone for the time and season, and since newspapers did not seem to be invented yet, he had little way of finding out what was going on in the world at the present. All he knew was that he was still a long way from home with nothing but his wits to guide him, and a small purse of coins which he had "lifted" from one of the locals. He did notice that there seemed to be a lot of soldiers marching about the countryside in large patrols, both on foot and on horseback, but since foreign history was hardly one of his specialties, he did not know which period of war this signified, other than the fact that the uniforms worn by these soldiers seemed awfully drab and uncomfortable looking, with hats that all but cried out to make one a target for any sniper.

At least there was still some wild game he could wrangle up as he pondered what his next move should be, and how he could achieve the goal of getting back home in one piece. Sitting with a pig over a fire (which, oddly enough, reminded him a bit of Ryoga) he sat in meditation...when all at once his combat reflexes flared to life, and his survival instincts debated the necessity of immediate running.

Then, to his amazement, a huge form came stumbling into his encampment. At first Genma thought it was a bear standing on its hind legs, but then he saw a face that looked as though it had been a major casualty in an altercation with a truck, and he yelped as he stepped backward, prepared to climb a tree if the strange monstrosity made any further move in his direction.

"Guhhh?" the creature muttered, staring at Genma with neither hostility nor spite in its expression.

"Uh...who are you?" Genma asked nervously, amazed upon meeting such a very tall Gaijin!

"Gah-gooo-guh..." the creature seemed to be struggling with words, then it turned to regard the pig roasting over the fire, and it began to stumble forward.

"HEY!" Genma immediately protested as he darted forward, "That's my lunch! I got it fair and square-!"

"GAAAH!" the creature barked at him in annoyance.

Genma halted in his tracks and immediately put up both hands in a deflecting gesture, "Ah...of course, it would be rude of me not to share with you since you're obviously quite hungry..."

The creature turned from him and reached out a hand towards the pig, only to snatch it back again with a look of shock, "GGGAH!"

"Ooops," Genma winced, "Guess you forgot about the fire, huh? Well...serves you right for reaching in like that, don't you have any table manners?"

"Guuuh?" the creature asked with a puzzled expression.

"Well...of course I can share," Genma decided that the pig had been over the fire long enough and went to the makeshift spit in order to remove its sweet-
smelling carcass. He brought it over to where it could cool then urged the giant to sit down on the log next to where Genma had been sitting, then Genma used his hands to pry loose one of the legs of the pig, which same he handed over to the creature.

"Goh," the creature nodded in understanding, then took the rest of the whole pig and broke it in half between his huge, misshapen hands, tossing the smaller portion back over to Genma, then biting into the still hot carcass with ravenous hunger, teeth ripping off chunks of pork with evident relish.

"Ah...yes, I see," Genma murmured faintly, "Big man, big appetite...what was I thinking?"

Once the giant had finished off the pig he paused to wipe his fingers down on the tarp, which constituted his only piece of wardrobe, then the giant patted his belly with a contented sigh and said, "Geh."

"You're welcome," Genma replied, wondering if the creature were speaking a foreign language.

The giant was thirsty and shortly afterwards went to the nearby lake in order to slake his thirst, leaving Genma to bury the bones of their catch while wondering what to do about his new companion. It certainly did not even take a man of his limited cerebral gifts to fathom that the giant was an escaped refugee of some carnival or circus, possibly even a mental institution, though Genma deemed it more likely to be a hospital, given the extend of the man's extensive scarring. He considered taking off while the giant was distracted, but a stubborn insistence that it was HIS camp, his temporary home, held him firmly in place until the giant returned and sat back down before the fire.

What followed was a silence that was almost deafening as neither man seemed willing to leave of his own volition. That was when Genma had what passed for a flash of brilliance cross through his mind right then and there, and without a word he got up and went searching for some round stones that he had spotted earlier, fathering them up while his new companion watched with curiosity, until Genma came back and sat down opposite to the giant.

Genma then took a stick and used it to draw a series of squares on the ground next to the fire, earning the curious attention of the giant. When he had done creating the pattern, Genma then carefully placed the stones down on their opposite sides, then looked up at his new companion and said, "Do you know how to play Go?"

"Gnh?" his companion raised an eyebrow.

"Don't worry," Genma replied reassuringly, "I'll teach you..."

"He must have been quite an extraordinary man," Mary marveled, "Not running in abject terror of what must have been a horrific experience."

"You think so, huh?" the redhead sniffed, "Yeah...he was extraordinary all right, and he didn't seem to mind the fact that I was ugly as sin back then, but...that ain't even the half of it. It started the next day when I woke up bright and early and found the guy doing some kind of a dance number..."

The one thing Genma had learned from his many lifetimes of experience on the open road was that you never have too much practice in keeping in shape. Though his skills had considerably improved over the many years, he still knew the risk he took in getting too lax in his own personal training. Time and again his charges had proven to be quite the handful, and it was all that he could do to stay one step ahead of them in speed, skill, grace and raw animal cunning.

Already he was far superior to Ranma when the boy had defeated Saffron, but experience around the Olympians and the Camelot crowd had only served to reinforce the old saying, "As good as you are, there's always someone who's better!" No doubt the Boy would surpass Genma's skills with a few more years of life-hardening experience, so it was all to the better if Genma keep up his fighting trim, just in case the whelp needed a few more lessons. Not that the little ingrate ever seemed to understand the sacrifices which Genma had made for the sake of their Ryu, but Ranma had always been a mouthy little punk...rather a lot like those other boys who had more recently been Genma's charges.

Genma had trained the best, there was much pride to be had in this, and the pride of being even a surrogate father was watching your adopted sons grow up to be men who earned a place in legend. Still and all, it would be nice if someone once in a while appreciated his teachings. Just where would those boys have been if not for Genma? Would anyone even know that they existed? Oh, the injustice of it all, the humanity! It was enough to make him want to try his hand once more at teaching, provided he could find a student worthy of his rigorous training.

And that was when he noticed that the creature from the night before had gotten up from camp and was now peering at Genma. The creature had torn off a part of his tarp to fashion a loincloth but was otherwise quite naked. He also seemed to be studying Genma's movements as the latter when through some elaborate shadowboxing maneuvers, dispatching a series of imaginary opponents.

Genma decided to ignore his audience as he continued with his training, but after a few moments of slowing himself down in order to work on some new, complex katas, he chanced to glance to one side and nearly fell off the tree stump upon which he had been practicing.

For there was the creature off to one side watching Genma while attempting to copy the very same movements! He was even balancing on one leg while trying to keep the other leg stiffened, but when he paused to see that Genma was looking back at him, the creature lost his tenuous balance and toppled over onto his broad backside.

"Hah...think you're man enough to copy me, eh?" Genma smirked, waiting for the giant to get back onto his feet before attempting something a simpler, seeing whether or not the giant might again try to imitate him. Much to his surprise, the giant did just that, not perfectly, of course, but with a reasonably honest effort.

"Hmm..." Genma turned and paused as he stared at the craggy-faced, heavily scarred bruiser, "Well...you're not much to look at, and I've met Ogres who had more personality, but you seem like you'd like a few lessons, so...what say we start at the beginning?"

"Gnoh?" the Giant replied, obviously interested enough to consent to a few "harmless" lessons...

"And that's how it started," the redheaded creature remarked, "Like that I got accepted as a student to my Uncle Genma."

"Extraordinary," Mary exclaimed with an amazed expression, "You say this man was from some distant Eastern land and knew their mysterious methods of unarmed fighting?"

"To be exact, it was called the Musubetsu Kakuto Ryu," the redhead replied, "Or Anything Goes School of Indiscriminate Grappling. Allegedly, it's one of the most powerful forms of martial arts on the whole planet, and before too long I became an acknowledged master. Took a few years to get the basics down, but during that time Uncle Genma and me moved around a lot and did whatever it took to stay alive, and in the meantime he carved out some wooden pieces and taught me how to play Shogi."

"And this man also taught you how to speak English?" Mary asked.

"Well...not really," the redhead replied, "Turns out the guy whose brain I've got was some kind of scholarly genius...knew at least five major languages and all that. Uncle Genma tended to speak Japanese as his primary language, but he knew a little Chinese, which helped out along the road as we made our way back east towards China..."

"Oooh, China," Mary remarked with delight upon hearing of the mysterious orient, so impenetrable to European understanding.

"Yeah, but not too far east," the redhead continued, "In point of fact, Uncle Genma got it into his head to look up someone he thought he knew there. By that time I'd already gotten myself a regular set of clothes...mostly the bear coat, which I took off a real bear in Siberia who didn't need it any more..."

"Siberia?" Mary blinked, "I thought you said you were going to China."

"Yeah, well...my Sensei wasn't exactly the best tracker on the globe, and his grasp of geography was a lot spottier than mine, but anyway...we finally made it to China...particularly the Qing Hi mountain range, where there dwells a mysterious band of warrior women called the Chinese Amazons..."

"Amazons?" Mary exclaimed, "Surely you are jesting!"

"Oh, I'm quite serious," the redhead replied, "And don't call me Shirley..."

"No-no-no-no-no!" Kho Lon the Elder reprimanded her apprentice, "What is wrong with you, Child? Why are you pausing in middle of performing the Dancing Swan? Do you think an opponent would let you freeze up like that in the middle of a battle?"

"I'm sorry, Elder," replied Lo Xion stammered in apology, "It's just that...I was having another one of those visions again. I can't seem to help it...they just keep coming to me whenever I'm relaxed into my training."

"Well, that just simply means that you are not concentrating enough," Cologne replied, "The tournament is in a few more days...do you want to forfeit your place as Champion to one of the younger fighters?"

"Of course not, Elder," Lotion assured her, brushing pale pink hair out of her eyes as she regarded her dour-faced and Indigo-haired superior, "It's just...why do I keep having these visions? What do they mean? Where do they come from? Are the Gods trying to send me a message? If so, then I wish they could be a little clearer..."

"Perhaps it might help if you explained what exactly it is you see in this latest of your visions, child?" Cologne asked with a more sympathetic expression.

"I see..." Lotion paused to concentrate with a slightly unfocused expression, "...I see a shadow falling across my path...a dark man...brooding and imposing...not evil...not even foreboding, just...sad..."

"Sad?" Cologne asked, "Over what?"

"I...don't quite know why, Elder," Lotion replied, the pink haired girl giving every indication of being half into her vision, "But...I think he is lonely...that people do not treat him very well...because of his appearance..."

"People are often very cruel to those whoa are different," Cologne sagely noted, combing one of her long locks out of her eyes with a distracted hand, hair that was flecked with streaks of silver, giving her an appearance of someone much older than she seemed upon the surface, "I learned this for myself during my wandering years exploring the world outside our borders. You should pay this vision no need, if someone matching your description were to show up, then it would become important, not..."

"ELDER!" a young green-haired child came running up to the practice circle calling out to them both, "Strangers are in our village! The other Elders want you to join them!"

Strangers you say?" Cologne asked with an uplifted eyebrow.

"My vision..." Lotion blinked her eyes, "Elder...?"

"Go on ahead," Cologne nodded, "I will join up with you shortly."

Her pink-haired charge bowed to Cologne then raised her staff in salute, turning on one heel and heading off at a dead run in the direction from whence the child had appeared. Cologne watched her go in silence, even after a form stepped out from seeming no where to join her in the practice circle.

"Interesting," this person remarked in an idle tone of voice, "Her visions become stronger ever day. I think you know what this means, don't you?"

"I'm not interesting in hearing about this, Siren," Cologne replied, "The child chose the path of a warrior, and I am teaching her as a favor to her Elder..."

"You know perfectly well that she was never meant to be a War Master, like you," the blonde haired Enchantress responded, "She knows it too, even if she's too stubborn and prideful to admit it to herself. Elder Balm was right when she said that this one has the gift that could make her a great Lore Master..."

"It is her place to decide such things," Cologne countered, "I never forced Lotion to make any such choice, she follows her own path..."

"But she listens to your guidance," the Mage replied, "And you should have encouraged her to go with her own grandmother. It's a crime not to make use of her gifts as they were intended."

"And would you make that choice for her?" Cologne countered.

"I don't have to," Siren insisted, "But you know as well as I do that these visions are a way of her subconscious telling her that she must move on, that it is time to explore the path for which she was intended."

"We will see about that," Cologne said as she started forward, not even glancing at her childhood friend, whose path had taken her down the difficult way of the Mage, a way that few could travel unaided...

Lotion was unaware of all this, of course, but when she approached the village square she slowed her pace to a mere trot as she saw an incredible sight that astounded her beyond measure.

The man had to be nearly eight feet in height, easily five cubits, and solidly built like the Great Wall itself, perfectly in proportion! His face was hideous, a pale greenish-gray lined with faded scars, and yet not impossible to look at, though obviously quite intimidating to her fellow Amazon sisters.

"Who is he?" she heard someone murmur, to which another Amazon exclaimed, "He looks like a demon! And that face..."

"They say he surrendered to one of our patrols after defeating a hundred bandits to the north, bare handed!" a third remarked, to which a forth quipped, "How? Just by looking at them with that Mug of his?"

Lotion turned to the nearest of those exchanging rumors and asked, "He surrendered to us?"

"The fat one beside him talked him into it," said Ga-Za, one of Lotion's own contemporaries, "He seems to know something of our laws, refuses to fight anyone and is extremely deferential. You almost never meet an outside man these days who seems so unwilling to give offense to us..."

"You ask me," replied Pa-Tse, "I think he's just too much of a coward to want to go up against a real woman, and he's probably not good for much anyway. He looks old enough to already be somebody's husband."

Lotion decided to move closer, gently pushing her way into the front ranks of those surrounding the two strangers. The fat, middle-aged man in the faded cotton gi was worth at least a cursory study, for Lotion sensed immediately that there was much more to this fellow than could be determined on the surface, but it was the giant who held her interest, being an imposing sort of fellow who could not be missed in a crowd, and not just because of his size or hideous features!

The Elders were studying these two strangers with intense scrutiny as their Matriarch, Soap, conducted an interrogation. Her questions were directed at both men (for such was the one obvious thing about both strangers which they shared in common), and as Lotion got within earshot she could make out a few of the details as, "...And you say that you are already married to a warrior in your homeland?"

"That is so, Elder," the fat man responded, "A woman of great courage and mastery of the blade, who defeated me honorably and became the mother of my firstborn child. In deference to her I ask that I be spared from challenge...I ask only for your guidance as my student and I have traveled a very long way to find your honorable village."

"I see," Soap shifted her focus towards the giant, "And does your student have a tongue of his own?"

The giant grunted and said, "I say whatever I like, lady, if anybody wants to ask me."

There was some grumbling in the ranks of the Amazons about this male's tone being less respectful than the fat one's, but Soap smiled and said, "So...you do have a mouth, and a mind. Are you also someone's husband?"

"I..." the giant faltered, "Uh...haven't met the right woman, just yet..."

"Are you saying that you are too good for any woman?" demanded an Elder named Mace.

"I ain't saying that," the giant replied, "Look...Uncle Genma here said you people could help him out with a problem, and I just tagged along for the ride..."

"You are his Student, he is your Seifu," Soap noted, "It is only natural that you should go with him. But I am curious...what manner of school is it that you study?"

"Indiscriminate fighting, Lady," the big man replied before Genma could act to stop him.

There was another low murmur before Soap spoke again and noted, "There was another who came among us long ago, he also claimed to study an Indiscriminate style of combat. You wouldn't happen to be related to him, would you?"

"I don't know the bum," the big man replied, "I only know Uncle Genma."

"I'm sure we have no connection whatsoever to the one whom you have encountered," Genma hastily insisted, "We are only travelers seeking a way back to my homeland, and since you Amazons are said to be wise and knowing about a great many things..."

"You wished to study with us, is that it?" Soap asked, "You know, of course, that we do not permit many outsiders to dwell for long in our village."

"Believe me, once I have what I need to know answered, then you won't be seeing me again," Genma replied, "But it is very important that I speak with someone who knows something about timetravel."

"Timetravel you say?" remarked Cologne as she strode up to join her fellow Elders of the Council, "Curious...why would a mere pilgrim want to know anything about that?"

"Ah...well..." the man with the bespectacled glasses turned to Cologne and said, "I...don't believe we've met before...but...you...seem familiar..."

"I am Cologne," she replied matter-of-factly, then saw the astonishment in the middle-aged man's expression and asked, "Is something wrong, young fellow?"

"Ah...nothing, nothing's wrong!" the balding man insisted, which prompted Lotion to pay him even more attention, though her eyes kept drifting back towards the giant, and somehow-instinctively-she knew that this "Seifu" in particular was lying.

"So glad that you could find the time to join us," Soap remarked to Cologne before turning back to the strangers, "We would like to hear more about your story...and the places to which you have traveled, but first...we would like to ask if you would care to give us a little demonstration of your fighting prowess, just so that we can learn more about this...Indiscriminate fighting which you practice."

"Ah..." the balding man responded, "Thanks, but...like I said, I'm already married..."

"I wasn't talking to you, Fool," Soap turned a smile towards the giant, "I wish to see your apprentice display what he knows about fighting...not in an official challenge, of course, but rather just a harmless little demonstration match, him against our tribal champion, with no consequences to either the winner or the loser. Agreed?"

"Ah...well..." Genma faltered.

"Sounds good to me," the giant replied, "Just as long as it's a friendly match, I've got no objections. Just one thing, though...I won't hit a woman."

"Commendable," Soap remarked, in spite of the mumbled commentary about that curiously insulting statement, "But you understand that the same courtesy will not be extended towards you, right?"

"Hey, dish it out, I was made to take it," the giant replied, his tone and confidence so arrogantly self-assured that Lotion felt herself bridle slightly, clenching her staff in silent indignation.

"Lotion, Child," Soap turned to her, "Would you mind teaching this...man his place?"

Lotion stepped into the ring, glaring balefully at the giant, "I am ready to fight you, are you ready to feel pain?"

"Lady," the giant replied, "I've known pain as long as I've been alive...go ahead and show me what you've got."

"Very well then," Soap raised her voice to the others, "We will convene a match at the Challenge Log...it will be-as you say-a friendly encounter with no consequences to either the winner or the loser. Let us see what these Outsider males are made of."

"Not what, Lady," the giant replied, "Who...and I'd like to know the answer to that one myself."

"Hmph," Lotion frowned, wanting very much to teach this upstart Male his place in the battle forthcoming...

"You fought against her?" Mary asked in mild astonishment.

"More than one time," the redhead explained, "The first time on the log...the second time, when she challenged me to a rematch...well...that's how I wound up in this condition," she glanced down at herself with a curiously vexed expression.

"Now this I want to hear," Mary leaned forward, eager to hear the details of how a monster could be turned into such an obvious beauty, and what had come of it in the course of this strange being's adventures...

Continued.

Comments/Criticisms/Hysterical Revisionism: shadowmane

It's Lotion versus Frank in a match to remember, but when Beauty and Beast become one in the same, how does this play out, and will the literary agent "clean it up" a bit before publication? Find out next time in: "Far and Aware," or "Airen Wanted: Some Assembly Required!" Be there!

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