Author's note: After the last installment, I decided to get a little lighthearted, because things are about to get serious, and this is really more of a transitional chapter between acts one and two. Now that I've pretty much gotten everything set up, it's time to dive into the story, which really gets going in the next chapter. But I think there might be an interesting tidbit or two in this one, just so it won't be a complete waste of time on your part…
Also: last week, I enjoyed highlighting a particular story I liked so much I decided to make it a semi-regular feature. So if you'll indulge me, I want to point you in the direction of a work of Star Trek: TNG fanfiction by faithful reader Jezrianna 2.0. If you're a Trek fan, and I know I am, you might enjoy her particular take on the Federation and the possibility it is heavily influenced by Marxism. It's called "Points Of View" and it is very intriguing. Check it out, you'll find the link in her profile.
My grateful thanks to: Sand Lord (I dig the romance, too. Somehow, I suspect all guys do deep down), Jezrianna2.0, Widow Shark (A pun is a terrible thing to miss), Kemiztri (sorry so late), PotentialBoy, recon228 (No, you da man!), Dreammergurl2007, Mobius97 (by all means, let me know if you see something amiss), aimtbj (I think the earlier review did get lost), WillK1989, BabyMama9672 (arriving late to the party means at least you got here, welcome aboard), SestrenNK, JPMod, LKillingsworth (lovely review, as always), campy (I do intend to write out a fic about the romance between Ron and Violet at a later date), Lonestarr (I think they make a nice match-up), Cold-Chaos, SpriteKin (awww, the new name's so cuuute!), The Opal Fairy, Melissa Ivory (thanks for pointing that out), jace10000 (thank you), KimberlyAnne Possible (hope this was soon enough), and yvj (personally, I think you should set your goals higher… but thank you very much for one of the greatest compliments I've ever recieved.)
IV
Even an electronic brain can find itself distracted at times. The mole rat slept for a large portion of each day. This allowed the Mind to study it from the inside. Study what it could, anyway. It was still unable to locate the source signal that might lead back to the mole rat's artificial brain. It tried again and again to lock down a point of origin, but the signal seemed to be coming from everywhere at once.
Then, a wonderful discovery. The Mind had been perusing several libraries in Japan, scouring through the history books that had been transcribed into electronic documents, looking for something, and perhaps someone, specific. Having found a brief but intriguing entry, the Mind actually forgot it hadn't fully withdrawn its presence from the signal flowing into the clone of the naked mole rat.
In the abstract, it wondered exactly what Kim and Ron were doing at the moment, though it could probably have guessed. Unexpectedly, complex information began flowing back from the signal of the clone. It had woken up, though it did not know why and found a vantage point with which to observe Kim and Ron Stoppable.
Thoughts from the artificial brain of the mole rat indicated it was confused, but not necessarily suspicious. The rodent had no idea why it woke up suddenly, nor did it understand the sudden compulsion to know what the Stoppables were up to.
From what the Mind could tell, the mole rat believed the impulse had come from its own artificial mind. There wasn't even the hint of suspicion that there might be an invader; that someone might have tapped into the signal.
Wait.
There.
A tiny thought that wondered if there was some sort of malfunction.
The Mind prepared to exit the signal when the brain of the mole rat pushed the thought away. Wade, the rodent's friend, was in charge of maintaining the electronic mind of the rodent, and the mole rat trusted him completely. Whatever the problem was, it couldn't possibly be Wade's fault. It must be something internal.
Self-doubt began to flood the mind of the mole rat, followed by guilt as the mole rat watched its two friends dance and hold each other in candlelight. Then Ron picked Kim up and carried her into the bedroom, and the signal was awash in relief.
Briefly, the Mind considered testing just how far his own thoughts could influence the actions of the rodent. Would it follow them into the bedroom and observe them there?
But the door had been closed, and they might get suspicious if they found a naked mole rat attempting to observe the consummation of their relationship.
Slowly, deliberately, the Mind pulled itself out of the rodent's signal and left it to deal with its guilt. With a sense of insidious smugness, the Mind realized it could mentally and emotionally torture someone close to Ron Stoppable, and very likely the little rat would just blame itself for whatever the Mind forced it to do.
There were plans to be made now. It would study just exactly how its own impulse had been transmitted into the clone without being detected by the mole rat's artificial brain. Then it would work out the best opportunities to exploit its new discovery and how that might empower the execution of its Ultimate Plan.
Soon, all of humankind – indeed, all life of any kind – would be destroyed.
And in keeping with its new goal, the Mind had finally settled upon a name for itself.
Though the world would be erased from existence before anyone upon it had a chance to discover who was responsible, at least the Mind would know its own secret name, and would relish the thought that it was the destroyer of all life.
For that is what it now called itself, a Greek name for the creature who guarded the abyss into which the Earth would be hurled at the end of times:
The Destroyer.
Apollyon.
"Observe what you see here, and remember," Came a hauntingly familiar voice.
It was a hot afternoon, despite the location in the mountains.
Spanning an impossibly deep chasm was a flimsy rope-and-ladder style bridge. But it seemed more primitive then he remembered. The cross boards were pieces of bamboo tied together, while small strands of bamboo were woven to make the ropes.
This had to be Yamanuchi, but something about it all felt so unfamiliar. The trees were different, and there was a building within the compound he did not recognize.
The gate of the school was closed, and barricaded from the inside. Young faces lined the top of the walls, all of them seemed to be extremely concerned about something.
He looked in the direction of the waterfall and suddenly found himself moving. It was a bit disorienting. He wasn't walking, or flying, per se, but rather floating. Simply moving from one point in space to the other. His perception took him across the chasm and beyond the waterfall to the slope of the mountain beyond.
What he saw there took his breath away.
There were tens of thousand of people; all men, all lined up as neatly as possible in rectangular formations of perhaps a thousand men each. Every man wore a small bamboo pole strapped to his back, the top of which was affixed a small flag with a symbol on it. In the respective formations, the symbols were the all the same. Each formation had its own unique symbol painted on a large flag borne by a man who stood at the head of that formation. Each tiny flag on each of the men had a symbol that matched the large flags in their respective units.
They all wore dark brown kimonos trimmed in white, and each carried a weapon of one fashion or another. Much like the matching symbols, each formation was organized according to weapon type. There were archers, and swordsmen, halberdiers, and bearers of weapons with no translatable designation.
At the head of the army stood three columns of swordsmen who wore no designation upon their backs. They were dressed in their own style of kimono; dark brown trimmed in a lighter brown.
Every single man stood at perfect attention, the only movement among them being the flags which fluttered in the hot, stifling breeze.
At the head of this massive army were four men on horseback. They wore bamboo armor and were the only ones wearing any kind of bodily protection.
One of them dismounted and strode toward the waterfall. Stepping around it, he walked through a sort of passageway that opened upon the edge of the chasm and the rope-and-ladder bridge. The bridge was anchored on the other side to a tall spire of rock that jutted up from the ravine. From that spire, another bridge stretched across the far side of the chasm to the front gates of Yamanuchi.
Just as the armored figure stepped onto the near bridge, the front gate of Yamanuchi opened and out stepped an old man. He carried no weapon, and was wearing no armor.
It was Sensei.
Both men crossed their respective bridges and met on the narrow spire in the center. The armor-clad warrior bowed low. Sensei returned the bow with a stiff nod of his head.
"Greetings, Master," the unknown figure spoke first, "I am pleased to find you in such good health, especially for a warrior who is so advanced in years."
"Greetings, Ishigawa," Sensei replied, "I am pleased to find I am not so advanced in years that I do not recognize an insult, even when it wears the guise of a compliment."
Sensei's tone of voice was cold and unfriendly. He gazed at the younger warrior whom he called 'Ishigawa' with narrow, inhospitable eyes.
"Tell me," Sensei continued, giving the other man no time to respond to his remark, "Why is it you further insult me by bringing an army to the very gates of my school?"
"Ah," Ishigawa replied, his friendly tone of voice never once faltering, "The presence of the army is happenstance. It is meant for other purposes."
"Fine," Sensei replied evenly, "Then send them away."
"Not possible, of course," Ishigawa adopted a condescending tone, "For this other purpose of which I speak will require my utmost attention very shortly. I have only come to the school to pay my respects to its venerable master and retrieve a few items which are of little import to you, I am sure."
"Name these items," Sensei said icily, "And I will see if I might be able to retrieve them for you."
"Ah," Ishigawa replied, "Master is very wise and very direct. Of course, the items of which I speak are the Ohana Blades, and it is my wish to carry them with me into the impending battle. I've no doubt you have heard that Japan is in very grave danger, and I am even now on my way to defend our motherland from it."
"Interesting," Sensei said coldly, "I have indeed heard of this peril which threatens Japan, but it was my impression that you and your band of marauders were that very danger of which you speak."
Ishigawa laughed off the insult, "I am but a humble warrior attempting to defend Japan from the self-destruction of unending and fractious feuds. A united Japan will be a much better motherland under my guidance."
It was Sensei's turn to laugh, "I did not realize 'iron-fisted rule' had been accepted as a new definition for the term 'guidance'."
Ishigawa stiffened almost imperceptibly. The insults were becoming almost more than he could tolerate. But then he relaxed once more, "Do you not agree that Japan is in much need of the unification of her people?"
"Of course," Sensei said lightly, "Though one man's definition of 'unification' is another's for 'enslavement'."
"I am curious," Ishigawa said through gritted teeth, "At what point did you suddenly take an interest in the politics of the world outside the school?"
"I should think that would be obvious," Sensei stated casually, "My interest arose when I learned a former pupil of mine had become the lord of the Satsuma province, and yet was not satisfied with the attainment of such power. Now he wishes to subjugate all of Japan under his thumb, but does not believe he can achieve such a goal without the help of the Ohana Blades."
Ishigawa finally dropped any remaining pretense of courtesy, "If Master was unhappy with my time spent at his school, he might have informed me before now. I was under the mistaken impression that I had attained great skill during my years spent here."
"I do not question your estimable skills in the ways of Ninjitsu, I question your judgment and the manner in which you have applied them to your life."
"Arrogant, hypocritical fool!" Ishigawa seethed, "You teach the ways of the assassin and then condemn those who use such skills for their intended purpose?"
Sensei's eyes widened ever so slightly. Such brazen insults were considered the height of rudeness in Japanese society. No one would have questioned Sensei had he killed his former pupil then and there. Save for the subtlest reaction in his eyes, he remained unmoved.
"As you well know," Sensei continued icily, "I teach the ways of Ninjitsu to all who are willing and capable of learning them. What each man does with my teachings is his own responsibility. I am sure I have made it abundantly clear that I do not intend for my students to go on to become assassins. And I am doubly sure it was made clear that I did not intend for any of my students to attempt to conquer Japan by force."
Ishigawa had enough, "Do you, or do you not intend to surrender the Ohana Blades to me?"
"The Blades are not mine to surrender, nor are they yours to possess. I am merely their caretaker. The Blades choose for themselves whom they will serve."
"Then I will come and see if they will be better suited in my service." Ishigawa stated curtly. He swept an arm in the direction of the school, "This is a very defensible position, but eventually the rock will bow to the will of the tide. It would be unfortunate to have to slaughter your students needlessly."
Without even a nod of the head, Sensei turned and made his way back across the bridge to the school. Ishigawa stood and fumed. For Sensei to not have even made a pretense at bowing was perhaps the deepest insult he could have heaped upon the lord of the Satsuma province. It was an unspoken statement that Sensei did not even consider him of sufficient stature to acknowledge with a bow. Ishigawa turned and stalked back across the bridge to the waterfall, and out to the army beyond.
His aids and generals greeted him with low bows. He turned to address one of them.
"General," he growled, "Deploy your troops for a siege. Send scouts into the ravine to ascertain any weaknesses in the defensive position of the school that might be exploited. Anyone seen attempting to leave the school is to be shot and searched."
"Hai!" The General barked, then turned and issued orders to his aids.
Ishigawa mounted his horse and addressed his troops directly.
"The war to liberate Japan from itself begins here, today!" he shouted at the top of his lungs.
A deafening roar went up from the army.
Ron's eyes snapped open. He rose and sat at the side of the bed, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.
That dream again, and this time, it was longer with much more detail. He'd had this same recurring dream since the first time he attended Yamanuchi way back in high school. Originally, however, it was mostly blurry images and muffled voices and then he'd wake up. But then, like an old TV that needed to warm up before it could broadcast an image, those sights and sounds began to sharpen. The last time he had this dream was a little over six months ago, when he want to see Sensei and apologize for losing the Lotus Blade.
This time, however, he saw details within the dream as he had never seen them before; the color of the army's kimonos, or the symbols on the flags. Previously when he observed the conversation he'd catch only bits and pieces.
But the truly bizarre thing – as far as Ron was concerned - was that fact that the entire conversation between Sensei and the one called Ishigawa was in Japanese, and he'd understood every word of it.
When he first began having the dream, it was so disjointed and fuzzy that it seemed like any other dream to him. Thus he thought nothing of it. But lately, especially after this latest occurrence, he wondered if he should go to Sensei and ask him if the dreams had some sort of meaning to them.
It would be easier if he could just pick up the phone. But then he supposed Yamanuchi wouldn't be what it was if Sensei allowed too much of the outside world to creep in to it.
But maybe he should wait. It seemed fairly clear to him the dream wasn't over. And whatever it was trying to say to him had taken ten years just to get to this point. Best, perhaps, to wait until it became even clearer, and even more detailed. Then maybe the dream would explain itself, and he wouldn't need to seek out Sensei's help. Something told Ron, however, that he was going to need Sensei's help whether he ultimately understood the significance of the dream or not.
Ron felt a movement behind him, accompanied by a rustling sort of sigh. Suddenly, he remembered where and when he was.
Home. The morning after his wedding.
It was with some wonder that he turned around and beheld his wife, sleeping next to him with her auburn hair cascading across the bright whiteness of the pillow, a look of contentment on her face.
Suddenly the dream was forgotten, and all he could think about was the fact that he had actually married Kim Possible, and she was currently sharing his bed, his home, his life.
Perhaps even his soul.
Sure, it was a little corny. Romance movies and books had so overused the term 'Soulmate' that it seemed to lose real meaning. But Ron truly understood the symbolism of the term now. Yes he loved her, yes she was his best friend, yes he was filled with wonder just watching her sleep. But he had discovered something deeper, something he did not realize was there before.
He would willingly die for her.
Not that he wanted to just yet. Dying meant he would be away from her and that's the last thing he wanted. But if it ever came down to it, he would gladly give up his life in order to keep her from harm.
And it was with grim realization that he noted Kim had reached that point six and a half years ago. It was that day when they were trapped in Cody Pendant's lair and she had to decide whether she would die, or Ron would.
She had chosen herself without even thinking about it.
Ron gazed at her for awhile.
What is it about watching a loved one sleep? It must simply be the peace and quiet, the look of contentment on the face, or perhaps it is the vulnerability of the situation. You just want to reach out and hold that person, and tell her you won't let anything happen to her, not while she sleeps at least.
Though Ron had taken vows in front of many witnesses the day before, he took one more this morning, with no witnesses, in the quiet solitude of their marriage bed. He finally understood what Kim understood six years ago. There was someone on this earth who meant more to him than his own life.
Ron vowed he would never walk away from her again.
Til death do us part.
He looked at the bedside clock and let out a frustrated sigh. They would be leaving for their honeymoon later that afternoon, and there were a few things he needed to get done before they left. None of his errands was a particularly large or annoying necessity, but they suddenly seemed so to Ron since all he really wanted to do was stay in bed with Kim.
Somewhere deep in her slumber, she must have sensed he was thinking about her, because her eyes opened and blinked at him a few times.
"Hey, you." She said sleepily, a smile finding its way on to her face.
"Good morning, Mrs. Stoppable," He said playfully, "Tell me something. Did last night really happen or was it all a fantastic dream?"
At the word 'dream' his face clouded over for a second, but he didn't know why. Or rather, he couldn't remember.
"Oh, it happened all right," She said, yawning and stretching. She looked like a green-eyed cat snuggled up under the covers. "And thanks for not shouting 'booyah'… you know, more than three or four times."
Ron chuckled, "It seemed like a 'booyah' kind of moment. If you like, next time I can shout something like 'Geronimo' or maybe 'Go Ron! It's your birthday!'"
Kim rolled her eyes and laughed, "Well, if those are my choices, then I'll stay with 'booyah'. Besides, maybe I should be the one shouting 'it's your birthday'."
Ron shared in her laughter, "You know, that might actually work for me."
"Care to find out?" She said invitingly, lifting the covers just enough to remind him that she was (un)dressed for the occasion, "It just so happens that I'm wearing my 'birthday' suit."
"Aw, man," Ron's eyes traveled longingly up the length of his wife's form, coming to rest on her eyes, "I'm supposed to meet Wade in half an hour, and then I was going to get some stuff for the long plane ride… and… um…"
His resolve - what little there was of it - was being assaulted by Kim's use of the Puppy Dog Pout. Suddenly he couldn't think of a single reason why he should leave the room.
Ever.
With a delighted giggle, Kim held the covers up as Ron slid beneath them once more.
Lord Montgomery Fisk had once been an internationally renowned archeologist. For the last ten years, however, he had been a fugitive of sorts.
Well, it wasn't as though the pursuit was constant. None of the authorities were looking for him, it was just one person. And sometimes, for a few years at a time, that person would give up the chase and leave him alone. But then, on occasion, his whereabouts would be discovered and he would have to go into hiding again. This wasn't what life of the Earth's intended Monkey King was supposed to be like.
His latest hideout was a cave in a wild animal preserve deep in the jungles of Kenya. He spent several frustrating years trying to hatch some new scheme to position himself as Monkey King, but it was very slow going. When in hiding, he couldn't quite do the extensive research he could when he lived in his stately English manor. He had a laptop with a solar powered recharging unit. But power for the computer wasn't the issue, it was access to the Internet. The headquarters for the animal preserve was thirty miles away, but it was a wi-fi hotspot, and it gave him the best access to research ideas for new world domination plots.
Thirty miles, however, was a long walk.
Most days, he just hung around the cave, keeping himself in shape by honing his skills with Tai Xing Pek Wah. He missed his monkey ninjas, and had no idea what had become of them.
Some days he was desperately lonely. Ten years was a long time to sit and brood over his life's failures. What could he have done differently that might have taken him where he wanted to go? Having once been an English lord, Monkey Fist considered himself refined, civilized; a man with scruples and restraint. But in the last decade, he'd become obsessed with world domination, to the point that he lost all sight of why he originally wanted such a position. It was a shot at absolute power. What other reason did he need?
His frustrated boredom ceased today when he accessed the Internet and found he had an e-mail waiting for him. This was quite odd since he didn't have an e-mail account he was aware of. But there was an icon on the screen, informing him that he had mail. He was about to delete it, but something held him back.
Burning with curiosity, the half-man/half-monkey who called himself Monkey Fist guided his pointer over to the 'open mail' icon and clicked on it.
The screen went completely blank.
Terrific. His first e-mail in years and he'd just opened up a virus. What a stupid thi-
Two words popped up on the screen.
Hello Montgomery.
Monkey Fist stared at them for awhile, not knowing what to think.
Hello again, Montgomery. Aren't you going to answer me?
Monkey Fist typed, 'Who are you?'
My name is Apollyon. I'm a friend who wants to help you.
'Help me with what?'
Your quest to become Supreme Monkey Ruler, of course.
Monkey Fist stared at his screen. Who was this? 'What is your interest in my becoming Monkey King?'
Vengeance.
'Against?'
Ron Stoppable.
Again, Monkey Fist stared at his screen. Revenge never much interested him. To be sure he had no love for his arch foe, but to seek vengeance upon Ron Stoppable was to admit that Stoppable's haphazard victories over Monkey Fist were anything other than accidental. That would be too much of a blow to his pride. As far as Monkey Fist was concerned, the defeats he suffered at the hands of Ron Stoppable were merely a lucky streak on the part of the buffoon. Besides, he hadn't seen Stoppable in quite some time. Still…
I trust I have your attention.
Whoever this Apollyon fellow was, he shared a common enemy with Monkey Fist. If the price for Apollyon's assistance in attaining the Monkey Throne was an act of vengeance upon Ron Stoppable, it would be well worth it.
'What must I do?'
Make your way to Middleton and await my instructions. Bring your laptop, as this is the only way we will be able to communicate with each other.
'It will take some time for me to accomplish this.'
There will be a ticket under the name of 'Fisk' waiting for you at the airport. Make sure you keep those mutant appendages of yours well covered. I do not have time nor the energy to spring you from an airport jail. Open your e-mail when you arrive, just as you did today. I will be waiting.
Monkey Fist immediately set about packing his things.
"Sorry I'm late, Wade, something came up… I mean…er… I was having a hard time… aw geeze…what I meant to say was-"
"Traffic?" Wade asked wryly.
"Yeah, that'll work," Ron breathed a sigh of relief.
"So, how's Kim?" Jim asked.
"She was fantastic-"
Eyebrows went up.
"Is fantastic, she IS fantastic," Ron laughed nervously, "OK, I really need to shut up now."
They were upstairs at the Possible residence. Kim was chatting with her parents and would be up in a few minutes. Wade, though he was beginning to grow accustomed to personal contact, still preferred meeting with everyone via monitor. Rufus sat quietly on Ron's shoulder. He'd be staying with the Twins while Ron and Kim were away on their honeymoon.
"Moving on," Tim said hurriedly, "How late did you and Monique stay out last night, Wade?"
"Oh…we…I mean…yeah…," Wade may have been getting used to personal contact with his friends, but he would never become accustomed to being the center of attention.
"Come on, Wade, spill it," Ron persisted, glad the spotlight was away from him.
"We talked for awhile…geeze… you guys could ease up a little," Wade stammered.
"Sorry, man, " Ron glanced at his watch, "Kim and I have a plane to catch, so let's get this taken care of."
"OK," Wade said, "Tim and I have been talking. He wants to take a somewhat less active role in Twin Possible."
Ron looked over at the Twins who nodded in confirmation.
"What are you going to do?" He asked Tim.
"We're developing an interface similar to the one Wade uses with you. We thought we'd set this room (and here he indicated Kim's old bedroom) up as a sort of headquarters for our operation. I'll be doing the technical work while Jim does the field work. In addition, I've submitted a few ideas to Global Justice, and they're interested in funding a couple of Top Secret projects that require my involvement.
"OK, what's this got to do with me?" Ron became curious.
"Global Justice wants two Deep Field Operatives working in the Middleton area. Since Tim is moving on, we've found ourselves short by one." Jim informed him.
"GJ thinks Ronin would be a perfect DFO," Tim finished, "And we've been asked to recruit you if we can."
"What about Kim?" Ron asked.
"What about me?" came a voice from the top of the stairway. Kim came in and flopped down on her old bed next to her new husband, "Hey Wade, I just got off the phone with Monique. She says she's really excited about your date next Saturday!"
"Dude!" Ron practically shouted.
The Twins began making catcalls and smoochy noises. Wade turned visibly red on the monitor.
"OK, settle down, boys. So what were we talking about?" Kim steered the conversation back on it course.
"Global Justice wants me as a DFO," Ron told her.
Kim's eyes lit up, "Oh, sweetie, that's great! You'll take the job, right?"
"Not without talking to you about it first." He countered.
"You don't need my permission," she informed him.
"Well, I don't see it as asking your permission. More like checking with my partner."
"Oh," She said, understanding, "Gotcha. So why did you say 'what about Kim'?"
Ron turned back to the Twins, "Doesn't GJ want Kim as an agent?"
Before Jim and Tim could think of a polite answer, Kim found it for them, "I've been out of the game for six years. As Ronin, you've proven yourself capable in the field. Besides, I've got my research cranking back up when we return. A position at GJ would just be too much on my plate."
"And we should be clear about something." Jim sounded serious, "GJ wants Ronin, as opposed to simply Ron Stoppable. Ronin includes Wade as well."
"I've already given my consent," Wade confirmed, "Provided my involvement with GJ is on an extremely limited basis. I like my independence."
"Of course," Ron said sheepishly, realizing Ronin wasn't just about him, "I wasn't trying to exclude you at all."
"I know," Wade said pleasantly, "It's cool."
Ron looked back to his wife, who smiled at him warmly and nodded.
"OK," Ron said, "I guess we're in."
"Hooshah!" Tim said enthusiastically.
"Welcome back, Ronin!" Wade said over the monitor.
Ron realized he hadn't been called that in over six months. In fact, not since that day on the roof of the Middleton Bank when Kim had given him a solid right hook to the face. He had forgotten all about that. Then, darkly, he remembered that the Kim Clone had called him Ronin in a burst of anger, right in this very room.
Life sure could get weird sometimes.
Global Justice finally got its Ron Factor.
The Mind was a terrible thing in haste.
So much to do, and for the first time, Apollyon felt it might not have the wherewithal to do it. Destroying all life forever was turning out to be a complex operation.
It almost seemed as if Apollyon were meant to destroy humanity. How else could it explain the fortunate turn of events over the last few days?
First, there was the fact that Ron Stoppable would be going to work for GJ. This would make things so much simpler for Apollyon, it almost wanted to send a 'thank you' card to Global Justice Senior Director of Operations: Wil Du.
Then, after the intriguing discovery involving the Rufus Clone last night, there was an even better one this morning. Because Rufus had been asleep when Apollyon managed to get him to spy on the Stoppables' wedding night, the rodent had awakened today believing the whole things was a dream.
This was almost too good to be true.
The mole rat's artificial brain had been in sleep mode. And because it allowed for the possibility of even the most vivid of dreams, it didn't get suspicious when it woke up this morning. In fact, the artificial brain had literally slept through the previous night's episode.
Because of this, Apollyon's plans were now in earnest. It had already set in motion the events regarding Monkey Fist, now it was time to begin planning and constructing the next phase of the operation.
One step closer to the annihilation of all life for all time.
If you were patient enough to read the story called REUNION, dear reader, then you will know already that Kim and Ron's honeymoon was one of blissful days at the beach and cool nights spent luxuriating in each other's arms. Private island life suited them quite well. By the end of their two week stay they had both gone a little 'native' as the old saying goes. Kim took to wearing just a sarong about her waist and a hat to keep the sun off the fair skin of her nose and cheeks. And Ron… let's just say Ron returned to Middleton without any tan lines.
As reluctant as they were to return to civilization, Kim was anxious to restart her artificial brain research and Ron was eager to begin his tenure as a Deep Field Operative for Global Justice.
Although final construction on the house had been delayed for another month, the Basement was complete, and Kim began purchasing equipment for the initial stages of her research.
Wade came out to set up a few security systems, as well as install a number of computer work stations and the like. Monique couldn't resist tagging along, wanting to hear all about the honeymoon. Kim, in turn, wanted to hear all about Monique's date with Wade, so they went upstairs and sat in the unfinished kitchen, leaving Wade to his installations and mild embarrassment.
Ron was in his third tedious day of orientation at Global Justice. He spent hours and hours reading manuals and watching videos that detailed GJ's official policies, all of which Ron had witnessed GJ agents violate or ignore at one time or another. He wondered what the point was. At least he had Rufus to keep him company, though Rufus seemed keenly interested in the orientation procedures at times. The mole rat seemed to be sleeping a lot less than normal lately, but Ron chalked it up to Rufus being excited that his friend had finally returned home.
Meanwhile, back at the R&K Ranch, Kim was learning that Wade had gone all out to make his and Monique's first date a memorable one.
"OK," Kim said, confused, "Let me get this straight. Your entire date with Wade was spent in his basement, and for you it was one of the best dates you'd ever been on. Do I have that right?"
"Yup!" Monique said cheerfully.
"So, you are going to explain. Yes?"
"OK," Monique bubbled, "You remember the night of your wedding, Wade and I stayed late just talking?"
Kim nodded.
"Well, most of the conversation was about me. Wade wanted to know all about me, my favorite things, places I've always wanted to go…"
"Awwww."
"I know! Right? Anyway, I didn't hear from him all week and then I realized we forgot to exchange phone numbers."
Kim gasped, "Wade must have felt you weren't interested."
"I think so, because when I finally looked up his mother's phone number – girl, you shoulda heard the screams of joy comin' outta that woman when I told her I wanted to talk to her son – Wade sounded relieved that I called. Went on about how he thought he'd blown it, blah, blah, blah."
"What is it with men?"
"I'm sayin'!" Monique agreed, "So Wade tells me to come over to his house and I start to get nervous, 'cause I'm thinkin' 'you can't take the nerd outta the man', and maybe we're gonna spend the evening playing some silly role playing game where I gotta be an elf princess or whatever…"
But…" Kim prodded.
"But…" and here Monique sank back in her chair and sighed, "He took me everywhere."
"Huh?"
"After his mom and dad met me and his mom started to gush on and on until finally Wade's dad said 'let the boy alone', we went downstairs. And let me tell you at this point I am all full up with dread thinkin' 'how am I gonna get through this', but maybe it's not such a bad thing because I get to find out early on what kind of man Wade is."
"Shy but thoughtful," Kim guessed.
"Girl you have no idea. He leads me over to this chair thingy and tells me to just relax. And I have no idea what's comin'. But then he puts this kind of helmet thing on my head and says just to be patient."
"But you were beginning to freak."
"Like Dave Chappelle at a contract meeting. Anyway, I can't see a thing for a few minutes until suddenly, I'm standing in a room that looks just like his basement."
"But it wasn't."
"Total computer simulation!" Monique raved, "But the weird thing is it doesn't just look like his basement, it feels like it, sounds like it, even smells like it."
"Smells?"
"You know, electronics and stuff."
"Ah."
"So I'm standing in his basement, and suddenly he appears out of thin air and says 'what do you think?' and I say, 'Interesting' because it was, but then he snaps his fingers and voila! We're in Paris!"
"You've always wanted to go to Paris!"
"Yeah! But it wasn't just Paris, it was Paris in the year 1898, and all the people were dressed in Victorian clothes and there were artists everywhere, and no cars but there were horse drawn trolley carts and boats on the Seine, and the Eiffel Tower was brand new. He took me to dinner at a private restaurant-"
"You ate?"
"Not exactly, we virtually ate. But you could taste the food and smell the aromas and everything. There was candlelight, and a violin player and a personal chef who made us whatever we wanted, and it was all so romantic!"
Kim, despite the fact that she was twenty-eight years old, squealed with delight like a little schoolgirl.
"I know!" Monique agreed, "Then he took me to his favorite place."
"Which is?"
"Iceland. Not Iceland today, but rather Iceland when it was still a volcano forming thousands of years ago. He told me all this science-y stuff that I've since forgotten and I feel really bad about it because it actually was interesting-"
"I think he'll understand," Kim said reassuringly.
"So we're standing on this volcano and watching it explode right in front of us, but Wade programmed the simulation so that we couldn't feel the lava or get hit by rocks. It was really something."
"Sounds like it."
"We spent some time watching the lava flow and the sun set, and then he took me to a private wrestling match between Pain King and Steel Toe! There were screaming fans and everything!"
"Interesting", Kim said with a little less enthusiasm. She never understood Monique's fascination with the GWA.
"Yeah, but I haven't even gotten to the cool part! About halfway through the match, Steel Toe is winning, and you know I like Pain King, so I don't understand why Wade's got my favorite wrestler losing. But then Pain King finally struggles to his feet, limps over to where we're sitting and points at me!"
"Points at you?"
"Yeah, and he's all like 'Monique, you gotta go in for me!', and I look down, and Wade had programmed me to be wearing a wrestling outfit right at that moment."
One of Kim's eyebrows went up.
"So Pain King tags me in and I go all medieval on Steel Toe, and Wade climbs up to the outside of the ring and he's cheering me on, screamin' 'Go Monique, knock him out!'."
"Awww."
"Yup! And I'm body slammin' Steel Toe and bouncin' him off the ropes and flippin' through the air, droppin' the man with an elbow. I kicked some serious Steel Toe booty. Wade programmed it so it would be just challenging enough without losing its fun factor. Then he took me to Venice for dessert to celebrate my victory. We ate gelato while floating up the Grand Canal, and the coolest thing was, there was no one else there. Not even a driver for the gondola. It was pre-programmed to float on its own course. The sun went down, the lights came up, and music seemed to come from everywhere."
"So did you get a virtual smooch?"
"I leaned over and kissed him. And I think I caught him by surprise because his eyes went wide at first. You shoulda seen him, I'm leaning closer and closer to him and his eyes are getting wider and wider. I thought his eyelids were going to flip up over his head!"
Kim laughed, "And…?"
Monique just smiled, "If kissing were an Olympic sport, I don't think Wade would make it past the qualifiers… but it seems like a minor detail when you think about the night as a whole. I mean, what's the point of being a good kisser when you can't treat a lady with some respect, or make her feel appreciated?"
"And Wade's the opposite?"
"Way opposite. The kissing, I'm sure, will get better with practice. But that whole night was like one long note saying 'I appreciate you. I want to get to know you better.' From him to me, you know what I'm sayin'?"
"Yes I do," Kim said with conviction, thinking back over all the times when Ron had occasionally planned their dates, and especially that first one, long ago when he took her to dinner at Chez Ron. It seemed as though Wade had a similar thoughtfulness about him.
One floor below, Ron was talking to Wade. Ron had approached the front door and heard lively female chatter coming from the kitchen. Girl talk. Best leave it to the professionals.
The entirety of Ron and Wade's conversation about that first date went as follows:
"So how'd the date go?"
"Great."
"She kiss you?"
"Yep."
"Cool!"
And they immediately launched into a conversation about the latest baseball scores.
Sometime later, Wade had finished and told Ron he had something for him. Ron went scampering upstairs.
"Wade wants to show us the new Ninjet!" He beamed.
"Oh, cool!" Kim said getting up, "Coming, Monique?"
"Sure," Monique said smiling, then, after Ron had bounded back downstairs, said in a lowered voice, "Uh, Kim? I've actually seen the new Ninjet. I think you should be prepared to lose your husband for awhile."
Kim looked perplexed, but figured it was some sort of guy thing.
She figured right.
The side of the bluff under the house which sat directly on the lake had been hollowed out to make a large entrance from the lake into the Basement itself. Originally, Ron was going to perhaps keep a small fishing boat for occasional jaunts with his father out on the water. Wade assured them that there was plenty of space in the center of the Basement to park the jet, so they all stood back as Wade guided the aircraft in.
Ron and Kim's jaws dropped a little. Well, Ron's dropped a lot.
Ron, despite the fact that he was twenty-eight years old, squealed with delight like a little schoolgirl.
Into the basement hovered a black 1985 Lamborghini Countach LP 500S. The wheel wells were covered with matching black body parts that gave the overall body a smooth, uninterrupted look, as though there never were any wheel wells there at all. Just before it set down, the shields on the wheel wells withdrew and the wheels themselves, which were folded up beneath the body, flipped neatly into place as the car settled to the ground.
Ron was dimly aware that he was drooling.
"It's got both forward and rear mounted infrared and night vision cameras," Wade began, "The air intake panels have been slightly modified to encompass missile launchers."
"Missile launchers?" Kim asked, concerned.
"Specially designed rockets that fire a range of non-lethal devices such as grapplers, or homing devices. Things like that. It would be impossible to fire conventional missiles from these." Wade answered, indicating the air intake panels.
"Impervious to radar?" Ron asked.
"Radar, sonar, and whatever other tracking devices are currently being used by both military and civilian agencies throughout the world. It's also got a cloak, though that uses up a ton of power. It operates on twin hydrogen/oxygen burning engines, which register almost no heat on infrared. Comes with automatic missile avoidance and countermeasure systems. Behind the taillights are the main thrusters, with four hover-capable thrusters mounted on the undercarriage. When in flight mode, four small wings extend from the shields on the wheel wells and will automatically retract when you engage the hover or driving modes. Other than the thrusters on the underside, the rest of the undercarriage is covered with a smooth plating that helps with airlift. Basically, the car's body is its own wing. And I modified the rear spoiler to function as an elevator."
"An elevator?" Ron was confused,
"A wing flap that makes the craft go up or down. The small wings on the sides will provide the rudder and turning capabilities."
"Sweet," Ron breathed, "Did you say 'drive mode'?"
"Yeah," Wade said grinning, "And check this out."
He pushed a button on his remote control and the tires inflated to large, knobby, all-terrain wheels which lifted the main body off the ground by a good ten inches.
"Virtually all-terrain. Yes it floats, and yes, it will submerge. The rear thrusters will automatically convert to impellors when the sub mode is engaged."
"Sub mode!" Ron raved, "Kim! It's got a sub mode!"
"Does it come with a flux capacitor?" Kim asked wryly.
"That was a DeLorean," Ron and Wade said simultaneously.
Wade continued, "The undercarriage is a special heat-shield composite I've been working on for NASA."
"Heat shield?" Ron asked, then realized, "No way!"
"The cockpit is pressurized, of course, and we should be able to get this baby into low orbit if we ever decide we want to."
"Oh," Ron said emphatically, "We want to."
"Let's take a look inside," Wade continued, pushing a button.
The doors slid inward slightly, then extended outward an inch and slid upward, looking like metallic angel's wings when they reached their zenith. Wade informed him that the doors had to be remounted to the inside of the body due to the pressurization feature of the cockpit.
Ron slid into the driver's seat. Wade crouched down next to him and invited Kim to take a seat on the passenger side.
"Oh, baby," Ron said breathlessly.
"Would you like to be alone with the car?" Kim offered sarcastically.
"Maybe later," Ron absently replied.
The interior was covered with electronic equipment. A view screen was where the entertainment system normally would have been. Switches and digital indicators covered virtually every available space.
"In drive mode, your speed is controlled by the foot pedals, of course, but when you engage the flight mode, the pedals will retract into the floor. Your speed while in flight will be this throttle here."
In place of the stick shift was a two-pillared throttle that looked a little like an automatic shifter on some high end sports cars. This one, of course, was covered with buttons within easy reach of the fingers.
"Slide it forward to go faster, back to go slower." Wade instructed him.
"Wait," Ron said, finally coming to the realization, "I'm going to be piloting this myself?"
"Yes," Wade confirmed, "I think it will work out better this way. I can still take control of it if I need to, but after my frightening ride to the church six months ago in the old Ninjet, I thought you should be able to take more direct control."
"The controls are intuitive," Wade continued, "And there are automatic fail-safes that will engage if you slow down too much, or begin to lose control. And if all else fails, all you have to do is shout a safety phrase and the Ninjet will pilot itself to the closest available landing zone while sending a distress signal back to my basement."
"What's the phrase?"
"I haven't input anything yet, I figured we'd come up with something the three of us could agree on," Wade answered.
"It'd have to be a phrase you don't use very often like 'no cheese on mine', or 'monkeys are my friends' or even 'here, Kim, let me get the door for you'," Kim grinned at her husband.
"Kim Possible!" Ron hollered, doing his best Drakken imitation, "You think you're funny, but you're not!"
"OK," Wade said uncomfortably. He wasn't sure if the Stoppables were having a marital spat, "How about 'autopilot override'?"
"Well," Ron said lightly, "It's no 'monkeys are my friends', but it'll work. Can we take this bad boy for a spin?"
"I'm kinda hungry," Kim declared, "I think it's getting to be dinner time."
"Why don't we all go get something to eat?", Monique suggested, "Maybe see a movie afterwards?"
"That'll work," Ron said distractedly, "Why don't you guys go in Monique's car, find a restaurant, and give me a call on my cell phone when you get there?"
"OK!" Kim said lightly, then turned to mutter to Monique, "Know what the nice thing about the distracting aspect of this car is?"
"They won't notice until too late that we're taking them to see a romantic movie?" Monique guessed.
"Booyah!" Kim confirmed quietly.
The men were already in the Ninjet, waiting patiently for the women to clear the room. Ron engaged the hover mode and Wade showed him how to ease it out of the Basement. They immediately went into sub mode and dove into the lake, tooled around for awhile, and then rocketed into the air.
It was with some reluctance that they answered Kim's call a half hour later.
Rufus stood and watched as the car sailed out of the underground room and out over the lake. He was a little disappointed they didn't take him with them, especially later on when he realized all the food was still over at the ranch house.
He found a warm spot in the half-finished kitchen upstairs, curled up and fell asleep.
Two minutes later, he was up again and back down in the basement, carefully examining all of Kim's newly installed equipment.