TENCHI WAKUSEI

by Joe Meadows

A sequel novel to "Tenchi Universe," full and complete.

2. CHAPTER 1: No Need For Spring Break

TENCHI WAKUSEI, BOOK ONE: "NO DREAMS FOR TENCHI"

By Joe Meadows (gpabn@yahoo.com)

NOTA BENE: This novel (comprising 24 chapters, a Prologue, and an Epilogue) is a sequel to the "Tenchi Muyo Television Series" ("Tenchi Universe"), with some "Tenchi Muyo! Ryo-Ohki!" original OAV series characters and elements included where--in the author's opinion--they don't conflict with "Tenchi Universe." For example, in order to flesh out a family background for Ayeka and Sasami, rather than create new characters, I used the existing parental figures of King Asuza and Queen Misaki from the OAVs. In order to bring the Galaxy Police more into the story, I re-instated the Grand Marshall as Mihoshi's grandfather and used an existing character from the Tenchi Muyo mangas, Chief Tor Bodai. And so on.

AIC and Pioneer LDC, whose kind indulgence I am counting on, own the copyrights on the original Tenchi Muyo characters. The character of Chief Tor Bodai was created by Hitoshi Okuda for the Tenchi Muyo manga series and is also copyrighted by AIC and Pioneer LDC. All truly new characters are my creation. Those characters and the actual story are copyright 2002 by yours truly. The lyrics for both versions of the theme song for "Speed Racer," the Beatles' "Abbey Road" album, the Beach Boys' "Surfing USA," the theme to "The Brady Bunch," and "That's Amore" are copyrighted by their various owners. The events that comprise the "Tenchi Universe" series are discussed in this novel; consequently, spoilers lurk within. Be warned. Please check out the "Chapter Notes" at the end of some of the chapters. Feedback is very welcome! I can be reached at gpabn@yahoo.com and thanks for taking the time to read this novel.

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CHAPTER ONE

No Need For Spring Break

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Spring had bloomed beautifully in Japan. In fact, thanks to unseasonably high temperatures, spring had busted out all over. Even that bellweather of the Nippon summer, the semi, or cicada, had left its burrow early to add its insect song to the season.

The sun gently warmed bared arms and legs, chasing away the chilled shadows of winter. Sakura (cherry tree blossoms) bloomed early, their delicate scent adding to the riot of awakened fauna and floral life in the island nation. Yes, it was spring, glorious spring everywhere in Japan, including the region of Chugoku, Prefecture of Okayama. And spring, of course, is when a young man's fancy lightly turns to--

"Yow!"

"Shrewd move, grandson."

--trying to avoid having his head cracked open by his grandfather.

Tenchi Masaki, AKA Lord Tenchi of the Jurai royal family (estranged) and his venerable grandfather, Katsuhito, AKA Lord Yosho of the Jurai royal family (also estranged) and priest of the Shinto temple known locally as the Masaki Shrine, now slowly parted from practice combat.

Tenchi, wiry and slender, with dark, extraordinarily even features, brilliant brown eyes, and coal black hair, was dressed in a white ghee closed with a purple belt. His grandfather was taller, slim but not thin, with a flowing mustache tinged with gray, and frameless spectacles perched on his nose. As always, he was clad in the simple but elegant white kimono of a Shinto priest. He also wore hakamas, the pleated trousers often worn with a kimono. His feet, sheathed in white tabi socks, were shod in traditional setta sandals.

Both grandfather and grandson held the long, thin wooden staves they used for the ultimate form of physical chess, Shintaido Bojutsu, or the Japanese art of stave-fighting (and head-fracturing). It was a useful substitute for sword practice and a part of the overall Bushido, "The Way of the Warrior," Tenchi's continuing training in the five warrior requirements: fidelity, politeness, virility, truthfulness, and simplicity. At the moment, Tenchi was being very truthful to his grandfather.

"Grandfather--you nearly cracked my skull!"

"You show improvement, grandson. The last time I executed that move, I did rather make contact with your head."

Tenchi ran a hand over the left side of his head, wincing at the memory. "I remember!"

Grandfather and grandson smiled fondly as they stood facing each other.

"I think we can end today's lesson, Tenchi," Yosho said.

"Thanks, Grandfather."

Tenchi bowed to his grandfather, who returned the bow.

They both lowered their staves. Tenchi panted slightly; his grandfather not at all.

"Grandson, you're a bit out of form. The lack of daily practice shows."

"You know I can't practice at college, Grandfather. The weekends and holidays here are the only time I have."

"I know, Tenchi. You shouldn't lose your edge, however."

"Yes, Grandfather." Tenchi moved to place his stave on the nearby rack. His grandfather did likewise.

The two were practicing the martial art in a low outbuilding just adjacent to the imposing temple structure itself. In the past, such practice was conducted outdoors. However, holding practice in the improvised dojo near the temple added a bit of piety to the practice sessions and it allowed those sessions to take place even in severely inclement weather. Besides, the climb up the many stone steps to the temple from the house helped in developing one's wind...important if one's pupil spent most of his time sitting in a classroom.

Tenchi was now nineteen years old. In a year, he would be one of those honored at the annual Coming of Age holiday in Japan. Yet, in a very real sense, he had already come of age. He had graduated from the local high school a year past and was about to enter his second year at Okayama University, Tsushima Campus, located in Okayama City (specifically, Tsushima-Naka), the capital of Okayama Prefecture, some distance from his rural home. Due to that distance (his father worked in the city and it was a real misery for him to tsukin (commute) daily to and from his architectural firm there), Tenchi had gained permission to lodge in a dormitory at the University during the weekdays.

However, to keep peace in the Masaki family--especially with certain female members of his extended family--Tenchi traveled back to rural Okayama to spend every weekend and holiday at home. Thus, his comment was accurate as to his time and opportunity to brush up on his Bojutsu. Classes and study consumed nearly all of his time on campus.

"But now you're home for Spring Break, Tenchi...nearly a whole month. Plenty of time to hone your skills sharp again."

"Yeah, Grandfather. I really look forward to that." Tenchi winced slightly at the thought of Grandfather's training regimen, but kept his voice even. "You know, Grandfather, after we defeated Kagato...well, I had kind of thought I was pretty proficient."

"You were adequate, grandson. You met the challenge. However, you must always keep practicing. That is the only way to stay proficient and to improve."

"I understand." Tenchi glanced at his Seiko to check the time, knowing his grandfather never wore a timepiece. "I supposed I'd better get down to the house. Tris is due pretty soon."

"Yes," his grandfather said with a chuckle. "The game is about to commence."

"Aw, Grandfather..."

Tenchi walked out the door of the outbuilding/dojo. His grandfather followed.

"I know it's all a bit elaborate. But Tris is my roommate and my friend. He's all alone here, you know, and I couldn't go off on Spring Break without having him over for at least a couple of days. Even if we all have to put up sort of a false front to do it. I felt rotten enough not inviting him home for Christmas. He ended up spending it with friends in Tokyo. I got the impression he felt like a fifth wheel there. Not to invite him to visit during another holiday--I just couldn't, Grandfather."

"I understand, Tenchi...and I agree."

"You really do, Grandfather?" Tenchi looked quickly at Lord Yosho, then looked down as both began to descend the lengthy flight of stone steps, down to where their house seemed to reflect the soft glow from the gleaming lake. It seemed so peaceful...so deceptively peaceful...

"Certainly. Your father and I know how hard it has been on you, Tenchi. Due to...circumstances...you haven't been able to enjoy the close friendship of other young men and you've had to spend a great deal of time here at home. We're both glad and grateful that you finally have a close friend. It's important to you, we know."

"Even if he's my American college roommate?" Tenchi stopped descending the steps to ascertain his grandfather's reaction. His grandfather stopped, too.

"Yes...even so." His grandfather smiled ever so slightly. "If we can accommodate six women from distant planets, I believe we can accommodate an American for a few days! After all, we do virtually the same thing when your Grandfather Hideo and Grandmother Itari visit."

Yosho referred to Tenchi's grandparents on his father's side. The elderly couple had retired to Hiroshima and paid flying visits to their son and grandson on a highly irregular basis. The visits were short and, up to now, Tenchi's paternal grandparents were ignorant of the true origins of his female houseguests. They did not approve of all those unmarried women living at the Masaki Shrine, however, which accounted for the brevity and infrequency of the visits.

"I'm glad you feel that way, Grandfather. Dad works with Americans sometimes and he likes them. I'm hoping you'll like Tris. He's more than just my roommate. He's really become a good friend...a buddy. I guess that sounds weird, but..."

"Not a bit, grandson. After all, we've made rather a habit of befriending visitors from strange cultures," Yosho reminded his grandson. "Remember, I was a stranger from a strange land when I arrived here, Tenchi. I was accepted by open-hearted and open-minded people and I've never forgotten that."

Grandfather and grandson resumed walking down the stone steps leading from the temple to the valley below.

"I'm really relieved you feel like that, Grandfather. Tris is kind of an offbeat guy, really funny and friendly. I've never known anyone like him! He has a wisecrack for everything...you'll see. Kind of clumsy, though. Practically every time he walks out the door of our room, he bangs his elbow on the doorknob. Says the same curse word each time too." Tenchi grinned.

"You must hold him in high regard to notice such details about him," Yosho observed.

"We hit it off from the start, Grandfather. I mean, there he was, an American surrounded by Japanese and a few other foreign students. He's the only American International Exchange student we have in our dorm. He didn't let it get him down, even when some people snubbed him. I admired that about him...and I sure understood about feeling isolated from people."

Lord Yosho smiled gently. Yes, he could picture it. Two young men...his grandson who had to keep to himself for many reasons, and an American who was detached from the other students living around him almost by cultural definition. He could imagine the two of them, assigned to living quarters together, over time drawing together for companionship, a companionship that had evolved into a friendship.

"But didn't you say he spent many years living in Tokyo, grandson?"

"That's right. His father was an American Air Force pilot and his mother was an Air Force officer, too. They and Tris were stationed at that American air base--I think it's called Yokota--near Tokyo for eight years, starting when Tris was eight years old. His parents encouraged him to learn Japanese and they lived off the base, so Tris became very fluent, even to the point of reading our language, and he got to observe and learn our culture pretty thoroughly. You'll be surprised when you meet him, Grandfather."

"I look forward to it. He sounds like an excellent candidate for an exchange program," Lord Yosho remarked approvingly. "Our language is very difficult for gajin--outsiders--to learn. I cannot imagine an American without a similar background being able to profitably attend our University."

"It's all kind of sad, though, how he came here," Tenchi said, his voice quieter. "His parents--he was real close to them--were killed in an accident back in America a year ago. Some rotten stuff happened between him and his relatives at the funeral and later. I think he really volunteered for the exchange program to escape...all those bad memories."

Lord Yosho nodded his graying head slowly. "Then it is our duty to make your friend feel at home while he's here...if that is at all possible. I take it you briefed our young ladies again this morning on their responsibilities?"

Tenchi nodded. "Right after breakfast. Both Ayeka and Kiyone are very levelheaded. I know they will be discrete and play along. Of course, poor Kiyone is still so bummed at being demoted and stationed back here that she doesn't show much interest in anything. That was a while ago, and she's still hasn't snapped out if it, Grandfather."

"Yes. That is unfortunate. Perhaps a visitor will prove a welcome change for her, if only for a short time." Tenchi did not notice his grandfather's rather enigmatic smile.

"I hope so too, Grandfather. Sasami and Mihoshi are both pretty excited at meeting a real American after watching all that American TV, thanks to Washuu. Sasami won't do anything to make Tris suspicious, but Mihoshi...well..." Tenchi shook his head.

His grandfather chuckled. "Our young Detective First Class does show rare self-poise from time to time. She also enjoys playing games. We will have to count on that."

"Yes, I guess so, Grandfather. Then there's Ryoko..."

"Yes?"

"Well, she's sort of agreed not to upset things while Tris is here. But she's not happy about him coming here even for a few days. She made that clear. And how!"

They had reached the bottom of the steps.

"Ryoko resents anything that takes your time away from her, Tenchi," Lord Yosho told him gently. "In her mind, she finally has you home for a long while, and the first thing you do is bring in a rival for your time. I'm afraid Princess Ayeka feels the same way, although she is too well mannered to openly admit it."

"I guessed that too, Grandfather. But I should be able to have a buddy over without having to worry about him being toasted by those two!" Tenchi sounded aggravated.

"Yes, you should." Yosho changed the subject. "What about Ryo-Ohki?"

That made his grandson laugh, as Lord Yosho knew it would.

"Well, Ryoko promised to keep Ryo-Ohki away from Tris as much as possible. If Tris does see Ryo-Ohki, I guess I'll just have to say something about special hybrids. I'm not too worried about that...as long as Ryo-Ohki doesn't transform into Ryoko's pirate cruiser in front of him!" Tenchi laughed again. "You know, Grandfather, it would almost be worth it to see the expression on that wise guy's face!"

Yosho smiled. "Undoubtedly. Incidentally, your father moved one of the extra futons to your bedroom before he left for the office this morning. I trust your friend will not find it too uncomfortable."

"After sleeping on those dorm beds?" Tenchi shook his head. "You know, Grandfather, he'll probably think it's like being back at the University--complete with co-eds!"

------

Meanwhile, the "co-eds" had gathered at the low chabudi dining table in the Masaki dining room...all except Washuu. The great scientist was, once again, holed up in her sub-dimensional laboratory, working on some experiment that hopefully wouldn't blow hell off its hinges.

Little Sasami had made some of her ambrosial tea. That was fortunate. The good tea was helping to improve somewhat a collection of mainly bad humors.

"Okay," said Ryoko, setting down her teacup. The platinum-haired space pirate was not in the best of moods. "So the chump has to come and we have to put up with him for a few days. What's the good news?"

"He's new," Sasami replied.

"He's an American!" Mihoshi added, her voice happy with anticipation.

"I'm still waiting for the good news," Ryoko said.

"He's here only for a few days," Kiyone muttered. "Thank God!"

"Thanks, Kiyone," Ryoko told her. "I see you feel the same way I do."

"Aw, Tenchi's stupid roommate is coming. So what?" Kiyone shrugged. The one-time Detective Sergeant, now merely a Detective First Class again, sat moodily staring into her teacup. Her pretty, sharp-featured face was dull. "He's got to be some loser. Can't cut it where he belongs so he comes over to this country. Tenchi likes him because Tenchi's a big-hearted guy. He probably feels sorry for this loser. Tenchi would be nice to a stray dog...you all know that."

"Kiyone!" Mihoshi objected.

"You know it's true, Mihoshi. Just drop it."

Mihoshi subsided. But her face mirrored her disquiet.

"Well..." Princess Ayeka now weighed in, using that formal tone of voice that made Ryoko grit her teeth just to hear. "You may be correct in your assessment, Kiyone. I would not be surprised. But he is Lord Tenchi's friend nevertheless, and we promised to make him welcome."

"I didn't," Ryoko told her. "I just promised not to blast him."

"You promised to help make his stay comfortable and calm, just like the rest of us," Ayeka insisted, locking eyes with Ryoko.

"What do I look like--a hotel porter?"

"I will not tell you what you look like, Ryoko. You promised, and that is that."

"All right, all right, I'll keep my promise. Sheesh!" Ryoko took a sip of tea. "These next few days will seem like years, I'll bet. You know, Princess, you're just as ticked as I am at having this chump barge in on us--you just won't admit it."

Ayeka spoke with cold formality. "I admit that I am not pleased with Lord Tenchi spending time with this person during the first long interval he has had at home since he began attending that University. But I am thinking of Lord Tenchi, as you should, Ryoko."

"I am thinking of Tenchi--that's why I'm ticked off!" Ryoko grimaced.

"I wish you'd give him a chance, Ryoko," Sasami said, a bit somberly. The little Princess rose to gather the tea things. "He could be very nice, you know."

"That's right," chimed in Mihoshi. "American men are handsome and rich and they drive neat cars."

"That's just TV, Mihoshi." Kiyone sounded bored. "Most American men are overweight and drive cars because they're too lazy to walk. Ryoko, just cool it for a few days. He'll be gone then and everything will be back to normal."

"It had better," Ryoko muttered.

------

Some miles away, the subject of discussion, Tristram Xavier Coffin, was driving through the small village of Mabi-Bisei, close to the Masaki shrine.(1) He was peering at road signs through his sunglasses and alternatively summoning up Tenchi's detailed verbal directions in his mind. So far, both matched.

Thus, he was unmindful of the curious stares he was garnering from the village's inhabitants. Even if he had been aware of the stares, he was well used to attracting curiosity from the Japanese, especially outside the major metropolitan areas.

It was understandable. The vision of a young American male (Amerika-jin) in a battered A-2 goatskin flight jacket and Ray Ban pilot's sunglasses was an unusual sight even in downtown Tokyo, much less rural Okayama. The jacket, sporting a painted insignia of a fighter squadron in back, had been his father's, as had the sunglasses...and the car as well.

It was the car Tris drove that no doubt attracted the most attention. In a land of Toyotas and Hondas, any domestic American car would have stood out. And Tris's car was as American domestic as they came...a gloriously restored 1969 Ford Mustang GT convertible, with the 351W V-8 engine, four on the floor, and Candy Apple Red paint. The white canvas convertible top was down, allowing the breeze to ruffle Tris's auburn hair.

Actually, the car represented one of the twenty-year-old's few actual successes in the last year. His father's old wingman and drinking buddy, Colonel Hiram "Pinbag" Groves, was now a military attaché with the American embassy in Tokyo. The Colonel had pulled strings with the Japanese immigration bureaucrats and had gained permission for Tris to ship his father's pride and joy into Japan (it was officially classified as an "antique").

Colonel Groves had been surprised and not overly pleased to see Tris back in Japan. The old stick jockey knew about Tris's difficulties with his relatives following his parent's deaths and considered the young man's return to Japan as plain old running away. Colonel Groves had made it clear that he felt Tris's father and mother would have wanted their son to stay in Boston and try to reconcile somehow with his three maternal aunts. These aunts were, along with his uncles by marriage, the only family he had left. But Tris was still Air Force in the Colonel's mind and he had helped his deceased buddy's son where he could.

That proved to be fortunate; the Okayama University Exchange Program, called EPOK, hadn't been very helpful at all. The program's officials had even tried to stick him into the Foreign Student's dorm--Dweeb Manor, as it was known on campus--until they finally realized how well he could speak and (to some extent) read Japanese. Since he had not been a Monbusho (Ministry of Education, Japan) scholarship case, but paid his own way, they had relented. He had been assigned to Handayama Dormitory, where he had been roomed with Tenchi Masaki. They were both entered into the Faculty of Letters (humanities, behavioral science, history and culture, language and literature) so they shared many of the same classes. They soon become fast friends.

Having Dad's old Mustang was a real comfort, Tris thought, as he finally passed the last few houses comprising the village. In a way, he knew, it was like retreating back into the womb...driving Dad's car, wearing his jacket--even his sunglasses!--but Tris needed such comforts around him these days. The death of his mother and father, so brutal and sudden, right in the middle of his first year at a university in America...it still ached, awfully. A tractor-trailer driver had plowed into their rental car one foggy night and killed them. Tris wanted to hate that driver, really needed to hate him, but could not. The poor guy had been obliged to drive many hours without sufficient sleep to keep his rig payments up and feed his family--and he had died, too. Two families blasted, and not a single goddamn good reason for it...

Tris shook his head. Enough of that. His roommate and now buddy, Tenchi Masaki, had invited him to his home for a few days It was a really big deal to Tenchi, Tris had divined, and it was rather a big deal to Tris, too. So, he told himself, put on the happy face, meet and greet everyone, and scope out those female houseguests Tenchi had told him about. Family friends, Tenchi had called them. Tenchi had also said they were not Japanese. Interesting...

Suddenly, a cat (Tris thought it was a cat, at least) streaked in front of his car--and stopped, right smack in front of him. The animal seemed confused.

Tris immediately applied the brakes. Dad had really restored the car well, and the disc-drum brakes bit deep. He stopped, lurchingly, avoiding the small creature by inches.

The critter shook its head and slowly hopped away. Tris stared at it, nonplussed. What long, long ears you have, pussy cat! Kind of like a rabbit's ears--and cotton ball tail. What breed of cat was it, anyway? Or was it a cat?

Suddenly he heard hands clapping. He looked around and saw a few of the older villagers politely applauding his action. Tris politely bowed his head. The villagers politely bowed back. He grinned. Only one dimple showed in his grin, causing rather a lopsided look to the young American's visage.

No doubt about it...he loved Japan.

------

Tenchi and his grandfather had just about reached the house. They stopped by the narrow gravel drive adjacent to the Masaki abode, right by the gate. Azaka II and Kamidake II, the two large wooden cylinders standing at either side of the entrance to the gate, blinked welcomingly. Princess Ayeka had instructed her Guardians not to utter a word while the new guest was around them. Both were even now carrying out her instructions.

"I think I hear Tris's car now, Grandfather," Tenchi remarked.

"Indeed? I've heard it for a few minutes now," his grandfather replied mildly.

"Grandfather! You have ears as sharp as Ryo-Ohki's, I swear." Tenchi laughed.

"Not as prominent, though, I trust," Yosho parried, with good humor.

Tenchi was pleased. His honorable and venerable grandfather was getting into the spirit of things. One less to worry about...

------

Tris found the small access road from the main road that lead to the Masaki grounds. Tenchi's directions had been excellent.

He piloted the Mustang slowly along that access road, his tires crunchingly proclaiming the change from macadam to gravel. He took his time, trying to take everything in.

And there was a lot to take in. First he spotted the Shinto temple with its tall arch-like Torii (Shinto gate) in front of the sprawl of stone steps leading up to the temple where Tenchi's grandfather maintained and officiated at, perched atop a hill. It was a surprisingly large structure for such a rural area. It was also beautifully designed. Tris couldn't help but compare the airy and soaring Shinto temples to the spires and flying buttresses of the ancient cathedrals he had seen in Europe. Both structures seemed designed to point the pious pilgrim toward heaven. Speaking of soaring heights, Tris's legs ached as he saw the long, long flight of stone steps leading up the temple. Well, he would just have to hump up those steps at least once to visit the temple. It was the only polite thing to do, and politeness was primary and primal in the land of Nippon.

The lake glistened as he turned his eyes from the temple. Tenchi had mentioned the lake...very nice...but there was a massive tree anchored right in the middle of it. Tris tried to identify the tree's species, but could not; it somewhat resembled a raintree, but much bigger. He would have to ask Tenchi about it.

Now the road--pretty much narrowed to a single lane--turned Tris and his car toward the Masaki house. That was another noteworthy structure. Surrrounded by a wooden fence, the multi-tiered house somehow managed to appear modern and functional, yet maintain the delicacy, simplicity, and dignity of Japanese architecture. Tris noted the very traditional engawa, or wide veranda, that surrounded the house, an aspect of Japanese design that he particularly favored-- it was like having a porch/patio all around the house. Large windows with narrow moldings, wooden walls that appeared thin and delicate but were no doubt sturdy as iron, sharp edges that bespoke precision and purpose...Tenchi had said his father was a good architect. Typical Japanese understatement. Tris thought he was a great architect and resolved to tell Tenchi's father so at the first opportunity.

The entire compound, with the majestic temple, gleaming lake and delicately manicured grounds, the beautiful, inviting home--it was like a sanctuary, Tris thought, the sort of sanctuary folks spend a lifetime seeking. No wonder Tenchi seemed happy to spend all his weekends and holidays here.

Then Tris spotted his buddy Tenchi and what had to be Tenchi's grandfather--he could be no other--standing by the fence's open gate. He drove up to them.

------

"My..." said Yosho quietly as he watching the young American drive up. "That is certainly a beautiful automobile. I believe the last time I saw such an automobile was decades ago, during a trip to Tokyo."

"Yeah, it's a cool looking car, Grandfather," Tenchi affirmed. "Tris and I have had some fun tooling around in it. You know, Grandfather, it's great to have a car when you're in the city."

"I can well imagine, Tenchi."

Tris stopped the Mustang and applied the parking brake. He opened the door, stepped out of the car (taking just a moment to stretch his six-foot frame that was cramped by being behind the wheel for hours), and slowly walked toward Tenchi and his grandfather. He carried a gaily wrapped package.

Lord Yosho studied the young American as he approached: Tall, lanky, dark hair cropped close, wearing a black polo shirt and khaki jeans along with the battered old leather jacket, shod in oxblood loafers. Now that the young man had removed his sunglasses, Yosho could see that Tristram had friendly eyes, with tiny laugh crinkles at the corners of those eyes. A good sign. The elderly priest thought he had never seen anyone more American in appearance.

There was more...an aura around the young man. Was it significant? Yosho wondered.

Tris was immediately impressed with Tenchi's grandfather. The elderly gentleman, clad in the traditional Shinto priest's white kimono tucked into wide, pleated hakamas, stood ramrod straight. His mustache and frameless glasses lessened the acetic affect, however. He wore his graying hair in the traditional manner with a long queue down his back. Standing next to him, Tenchi was certainly still the Tenchi Tris knew, but, dressed in the robe-like ghee, Tenchi really did resemble his grandfather. Tenchi, in fact, had a small queue of hair down his back as well (some clods called it a "rat tail"). Tris recalled that Tenchi was destined to replace his grandfather as the temple priest someday.

Tenchi's smile was broad and welcoming. "Greetings, Tris! Please allow me to introduce you to my honorable grandfather, Katsuhito."

Tris stopped and executed a perfect bow to Yosho. "It is an honor to meet you, sir."

Yosho returned the bow. Yes, this young American has lived a while in Japan, he thought. "It is my pleasure to meet my grandson's good friend. Welcome to our humble home."

Then Yosho held out his hand. Surprised and pleased, Tris shook the elderly priest's hand, noting the great strength behind the hearty handclasp. Shinto priests did not normally engage in akushu suru (shaking hands), but Tenchi's grandfather was making the gesture to make the young American feel both at home and welcome. Tenchi beamed at both of them, clearly quite pleased himself. Then he and Tris shook hands.

Tris offered the package to Lord Yosho. "Thank you so much for inviting me to your wonderful home." The package was the traditional gift that visitors brought their hosts in Japan. Beneath the packaging was a fine collection of delicate Japanese teas. At college, Tris had noticed that Tenchi was very traditional about tea...in that way, the Japanese rather resembled the British friends Tris made when he lived in England.

Lord Yosho accepted the package, smiling in acknowledgment. Indeed, this young American did have some understanding of Japanese customs.

"You're pretty much right on time, Tris," Tenchi said, immediately lapsing into the complete informality he enjoyed with his American friend. "Did you make good time?"

"Relatively good time, I guess. The traffic was only bumper-to- bumper, not dashboard-to-dashboard for once."

Tenchi laughed. Behind him, he heard his grandfather chuckle. Yes, everything was turning out all right, he thought gratefully.

------

That assessment was not shared by at least a few of the women inside the house. Tris couldn't have known it, of course, but five pairs of beautiful alien female eyes were studying him from the spacious living room window. Studying...and evaluating.

"See," said Mihoshi triumphantly. "He's got a neat car, and he's tall and slim. Not a bit overweight. I'll bet he's rich, too. I like him already."

"You like everyone already, Mihoshi," Kiyone told her.

"Well...what's wrong with that?"

Kiyone did not bother to reply. She was peering at the American with interest--more interest than she had shown in anything for some time. "He does have a cool car, that's for sure. I'll bet that's a real pilot's jacket he's wearing." Kiyone, as a matter of course, had studied Earth's airborne military forces. "United States Air Force, I think."

"He's in the Air Force?" Sasami asked, surprised.

"No...he wouldn't be going to college with Tenchi if he were," Kiyone explained.

"Well, he should have joined the Air Force," Ryoko opined. "And left Tenchi alone."

"He looks like a nice boy, Ryoko," Sasami remonstrated. As always, the very young Juraian Princess was prepared to like anyone and wanted everyone around her to get along.

"He looks like a wet noodle to me," Ryoko said. "That nose! What a honker! And look at those big feet! Bigger than Mihoshi's!"

"Hey!" Mihoshi protested.

"And those ears belong on a jug. He's a tall drink of water. Bet he bangs his head a lot." (Ryoko was actually right on target there.) "Look at him smile...one dimple! Wonder where he lost the other one!" Ryoko laughed.

Ayeka could keep silent no longer. "That is not fair, Ryoko. He is not a bad-looking boy. He cannot help those other things about himself."

"I call 'em like I see 'em, Princess." That was Ryoko's tag line.

Ayeka shook her head. Ryoko had said nothing but the truth that time. Regardless of whom she hurt, the space pirate usually spoke her mind. It was an indulgence in bad manners that continually exasperated Ayeka. "Well, please hold your tongue when you are around him, will you? I will admit...he is certainly no Lord Tenchi."

"That's a news flash!" Ryoko said sardonically.

Kiyone moved from the window. "Well, if we're all finished dissecting the poor guy, shouldn't we go outside and greet him? Get it over with?"

"Exactly, Kiyone," Ayeka said. "Let us proceed...and please watch what you say, Ryoko."

"I'll watch what I say, all right," Ryoko promised. "I won't say anything!"

------

"Like I told you, Tris, we have some houseguests...friends of the family, really," Tenchi said carefully, as he, his grandfather, and Tris walked through the open gate and toward the house.

"Six women, didn't you say?"

"That's right."

"And they're not Japanese?"

"No. They're just visiting. Sort of like you are."

"Oh...okay," Tris said with equanimity.

"You see, Tristram," Yosho spoke up. "We have many visitors to our humble home. We rather like houseguests."

"That's great, sir. But you should try putting up my Cousin John-John sometime. Motels make his parents pay a damage deposit when they check in."

"Tristram," Yosho said. "You needn't call me "sir.""

"Yes, sir. I mean..."

Tenchi's grandfather chuckled. "All right, Tristram. "Sir" is fine if you're more comfortable with that."

"Thank you...sir."

The front door slid open. Five young women stepped outside. Tenchi, his grandfather, and Tris stopped. Tris, in fact, stopped cold, causing Tenchi to bump into him.

Tenchi stifled a groan. He had wanted the women to meet and greet Tris one at a time, in a casual setting, inside. They were startling enough, one-on-one, but all of them at once...!

Tris didn't even feel the bump. The sight of Tenchi's houseguests, even from that distance, transfixed him. He had never before seen five more attractive--and more exotic-looking--young women. And he'd been places.

The first, taller than the rest, almost as tall as he, had a spiky mane of absolutely platinum-hued hair. Not platinum blonde. Platinum. In a tight-fitting, but ankle-length violet sheath dress, accentuated with lemon piping, she was stunning. She was also not amused, judging from the look she gave Tris. For some reason, the old American colonial motto, "Don't tread on me," popped in Tris's head. Her eyes--they were golden--surveyed him without interest. She placed her hands on her hips and appeared bored.

Beside her stood an exquisite young woman whose long robes and formal, intricate hairstyle may well have pronounced her high-born Japanese, although her features were not Asian. Her deep purple hair was sculptured rather helmet-like, with two extraordinarily long queues trailing down her back. There seemed to be a jeweled band around her forehead, obscured by bangs of hair. The robes she wore seemed actually more like a dress, a robed gown, actually, belted with a wide, satiny sash. Her bearing was simply regal. The look she gave Tris--favored him with would be more precise--was polite but not warm. Her ruby eyes were not exactly welcoming. At least she smiled slightly, unlike the platinum-haired bombshell standing beside her.

Tris had to lower his gaze a bit to view the next female in line and he couldn't help inwardly smiling a bit as he did. She was a little girl, clad in a robed gown secured with a wide sash, similar to that worn by the stately young woman. She had a bit of jewelry--a small, iridescent, inverted triangle, bisected in the middle, made from some gemstone--on her forehead. Even without those clues, it was clear that this little girl was the formal woman's younger sister. She was cute and adorable in very long pigtails and a dusting of freckles around her upturned nose, and she smiled with genuine welcoming warmth at him. Her hair was electric blue in coloration and her eyes a coral pink, an odd but endearing combination. Tris returned her smile, knowing he already had at least one friend in the group.

The next in line, a tallish woman, smiled at him with the friendliest and most amenable demeanor he could remember ever seeing. She was blonde, very blonde, and tanned, like a California beach girl, but Tris doubted she had ever been anywhere near Big Sur. That smile was as warm as California sunshine, though. She possessed a very pleasing shape, outfitted in a pink pullover and elaborately accented stone colored denims. Her blue eyes were very wide and her expression was absolutely sweet and innocent. Whereas the little girl was childishly adorable, this young lady was, well, womanly adorable.

Tris's gaze then took in the last female...and stopped.

She was another shapely young woman. She had long, dark teal hair that flowed past her shoulders and down to the small of her back. He noted that she was wearing a short-sleeved khaki blouse and indigo blue jeans, real Levis 501s from the look of them. She also affected a red headband. She possessed the clearest and gravest blue eyes imaginable. Tris found himself staring into her eyes. They were violet blue eyes, unlike those of the blonde woman beside her. One could get lost in those brilliant blue eyes...

Millions of words, rivers of ink, and forests of trees have been sacrificed in attempts to describe the look Tris and the teal-haired young woman shared at that moment. Rather than add to the carnage, it is sufficient to record that "something clicked." Then they both studiously avoided each other's eyes.

Glancing again at the tanned blonde, Tris noted that (from what he could tell at that distance) she appeared to possess somewhat pointed ears--not unattractively pointed, but pointed. Odd. Perhaps her ancestors hailed from Kentucky.

"So these are your houseguests?" Tris asked Tenchi.

"Ummm...yeah. That's Ryoko with her hands on her hips. Next is Ayeka, then Sasami, then Mihoshi, and finally Kiyone."

"Their names sound Japanese. But they're not--boy, are they not!"

"I guess our houseguests aren't what you expected, Tris," Tenchi temporized. He hoped his friend was not too overwhelmed. He had an empty feeling in the pit of his stomach that all of his planning was going for naught.

"No...they're really something! Of course, the way a couple of them are looking at me, you'd think they were relatives of mine."

"They don't mean to be unfriendly. They're just not used to you, Tris. Yet."

"A couple of them look like they don't want to get used to me. Say, Tenchi, I only see five women there. Didn't you say there were six?" Tris asked innocently.

"Yeah. The last is probably busy somewhere and--" Tenchi stopped. He went pale.

Yosho looked at Tenchi with concern. "Tenchi...what's wrong?"

Tenchi looked miserable. "Grandfather, I...I forgot to remind--"

He was interrupted by the Earth moving.

Trembling, actually. Beneath their feet, the ground quivered, trembled, and shook; not enough to upset balances but enough to upset nerve endings. A dull rumble rose from somewhere. It sounded as if it were coming from the house.

"Earthquake?" Tris shouted worriedly. Earthquakes were not unknown in Japan. The tremors increased.

"No!" yelled Tenchi. "No...please no!" He wasn't referring to Tris's conjecture. He knew what the cause of the disturbance was.

Easily maintaining his balance behind Tenchi and Tris, Lord Yosho just shook his head grimly.

Some distance away, the five women were swaying as the Earth quivered and quaked beneath their feet, too. Exclamations--and a few curses-- filled the air around them. Like Tenchi, they also knew with certainty the cause of the extremely localized quake.

Then, as he struggled to maintain his balance, and succeeded--just-- Tris saw a light, a blinding white light that appeared to first seep, then pour out from the house's foundations. The light increased in intensity--he started to shield his eyes--the rumbling reverberated around him, louder--

And then--incredibly--the house rose--off its foundations--into the air--

"Wha--" Tris said.

"No!" Tenchi said.

"Unfortunate," said Yosho.

The house rose--and rose--at least six feet in the air. Then it stopped. Just stopped. So did the rumbling. But not before the platinum-haired female houseguest named Ryoko leapt into the air--and stayed there--hovering--going into what looked like a defensive position--now ten feet in the air--and something long and black was whipping from the woman's posterior--a tail--?

"Wha...wha..." Tris said.

"No! Ryoko!" Tenchi said.

"Most unfortunate," said Yosho.

Not only that--but two large wooden lawn ornaments suddenly lifted from the ground. Lights blinked from tiny portholes in each. They immediately flew to the formally attired young woman, Ayeka. They hovered in the air around her. And--they seemed to be talking to her--

"We'll protect you, Princess," said one.

"Count on us," said the other.

"That really will not be necessary," Ayeka said quietly, although it was clear that she was perturbed by the turn of events.

The two lawn ornaments blinked in response and flew back to their original locations by the gate. They slowly settled back on the ground.

Tris said--nothing. He was speechless.

Tenchi wasn't, though. He yelled with anger and despair (and a dollop of self-recrimination, just for the record): "Washuu!"

His shout rent the now deathly still air.

All was quiet now. Even the insects stopped chirping. No one else spoke. The women, aside from the floating Ryoko, looked at the three men with concern. Ayeka was wringing her hands. Mihoshi began to sniffle, just a little, as she released Kiyone from a panic-clutch. Sasami shook her pig-tailed head.

Tenchi groaned with frustration. Another disaster! He looked at Tris, more than a bit anxious to see how his college roommate was taking all this. Tris seemed unmoved, surprisingly.

Then Tris spoke.

"Tenchi." His voice was calm, almost conversational in tone.

"Um...yes, Tris?"

"Your house...it's floating in the air."

"That's right," Tenchi replied, unable to contradict his friend.

"Yeah." Tris seemed to pause and collect his thoughts. "Houses aren't supposed to float in the air, Tenchi," he added.

"Uh-huh. That's true," Tenchi admitted.

Tris now directed his attention to Ryoko.

"One of your houseguests is floating in the air, too," he observed mildly. "A few feet higher than your house, I believe."

"Yes, Tris."

"Houseguests don't normally do that, Tenchi. Do they?"

"No, Tris," Tenchi agreed.

"Uh...why does she have a tail?" Tris queried.

Hovering above them all, the platinum-haired woman laughed.

"Let's talk about that later," Tenchi requested.

"Okay," Tris said agreeably. His calmness was amazing to Tenchi. It fact, it seemed unnatural.

Tris's eyes now took in the two wooden cylinders that were no longer hovering around the purple-haired young woman but were still blinking their small pilot lights.

"I think we'll just pass over..." He paused. "Well, no, we won't. Tenchi, two of your--lawn ornaments?--flew around another one of your house guests. I distinctly heard them speak to her."

"Yes, Tris," Tenchi said, helplessly.

"Lawn ornaments shouldn't do that. Of course, that's just my opinion. Boy, it's warm out here." Tris's voice sounded odd suddenly.

"Tris...!"

Tenchi viewed Tris with alarm. The American was swaying a bit and he had that glazed look, exactly the look he had when he was hit on the head with a baseball a month ago while rounding third base in that pickup game against Yogashi Dormitory. That game had been called on account of concussion.

The young American was indeed feeling a bit woozy. Sensory overload. He stared at the ground. It wasn't moving now, thank heavens, but it did seem to be beckoning to him. Rather invitingly.

"Tenchi," he said, weakly. "I--" He swayed, more.

"Tris! Pinch yourself! Hard!"

Tris obliged. "Ouch!" He had pinched himself pretty hard. He looked up again at the airborne house and the airborne houseguest. "Didn't work. Everything's still floating." But his voice was stronger. And he stood still now.

Tenchi cast a relieved look at his grandfather. Lord Yosho smiled at him. The Shinto priest placed a hand on Tris's shoulder. "Steady, young man. This can all be explained."

"That Washuu!" Tenchi said, aggrieved. "Washuu!" he yelled, our of pure, unadulterated, pent-up frustration.

"You rang?" A cheerful female voice responded.

Seemingly from beneath the house, a petite girl--she didn't look that much older than the little girl in the robes--with a shaggy mass of bright red hair appeared. She wore a kind of banana-colored jumpsuit. One of her cheeks was smudged with dirt.

"Hi, everybody. Another triumph for super science!" she said, beaming, her sea green eyes merry. Her voice was that of an adult.

Tris was taking this new personage in--houseguest number six, no doubt--when suddenly, what appeared to be a small puppet version of her, labeled "A," jumped up from behind one of her shoulders. Then another, its exact twin (except that it was labeled "B"), jumped up from the other shoulder.

Puppet A: "Hooray for Washuu! Greatest genius in the universe! Solver of all problems!"

Puppet B: "Yes, Tenchi's father will now have no problem checking for damp beneath the floorboards--thanks to the great Washuu!"

The two puppets darted out of sight.

The woman, Washuu, smiled modestly.

Tris started to sway again. Yosho held him firmly.

"Hey..." Washuu said, noticing Tris for the first time. "Who are you? You aren't...you couldn't be..."

"Yes, Professor Washuu. He is," Yosho responded before Tenchi could say it much more forcefully.

"I thought he was coming tomorrow." Washuu looked aggrieved.

"You were wrong," Lord Yosho said simply.

"Hmmmm. I guess I was." Washuu appeared to ponder that development for a moment. "Wait. I can take care of this. Just wait there, what's-your-name."

Tris found his voice. "It's Tris."

"Whatever. Don't go anywhere." She walked quickly back toward the still hovering house.

"Yeah, that's right Tris," Ryoko called down mockingly from the air. "Don't worry. The mean old mad scientist won't do anything more to scare you...will you, Washuu?"

"Can it, Ryoko," Washuu said over her shoulder.

"Professor Washuu," Yosho also called after her. "I think you may lower the house now."

"Ohhh...right. I'll take care of it right away." She seemed to disappear as she approached the house.

Of course, Tris thought. Why not? He noticed the insects were chirping again. Sure, go right ahead. Act like everything's back to normal. "You don't have to hold me up anymore, sir," he told Yosho. "I think I'll stay vertical now."

"Good." Yosho released his hold on Tris.

Then the ground trembled briefly, and the light and the rumbling returned. But, at least this time, the house went down, not up. The structure settled back onto its foundations with a last rumble. Perfect four-point landing.

Tenchi groaned audibly. He looked up at Ryoko, who had observed the proceedings from on high with undisguised merriment.

"Ryoko. You can come down now."

"Is your friend going to faint again if I do?"

"He didn't faint. Come down, please."

"I like it up here, Tenchi," Ryoko said sweetly. Just from her tone, even Tris could tell the floating woman had quite a thing for his roommate.

"Please come down, Ryoko."

"All right, Tenchi. Just for you."

Ryoko floated earthward. She settled on the lawn. Perfect two-point landing.

Suddenly, something small and furry bounded through the grass toward Ryoko. It had a round fluff of a tail, long, fuzzy ears, and a feline (sort of) face. "Me-ower!" it said.

Ryoko bent down and ruffled its ears. "Bad Ryo-Ohki. I told you to stay put...well, I guess it doesn't matter now."

Tris recognized the furry little critter. He'd almost squashed it back in the village. He decided he had better not mention that.

"That rabbit looks like a cat," he said, studying Ryo-Ohki. "Or--that cat looks like a rabbit. Which is it?"

"Yes." Tenchi managed a small grin. "Actually, we just call it a cabbit."

"Appropriate," Tris admitted. "It belongs to that Ryoko woman, huh?"

"That's right. Her name is Ryo-Ohki."

"It's a girl cabbit, huh? Does she fly, too?" Tris joked.

"Actually..." Tenchi paused. "Let's talk about that later."

"Right-o." Tris was agreeable. He was still a bit overwhelmed, truth to tell.

"Goofball," Ryoko cooed to Ryo-Ohki. She petted the cabbit with affection. "He's such a goofball. Isn't he?" She obviously was not referring to Tenchi.

The cabbit took in Tris. "Me-ower," she replied, not unfriendily, blinking bright eyes at the new being. Perhaps she recalled how good Tris's car's brakes had been.

"Oh, Ryo-Ohki!" Ryoko protested. "Don't you fall for him!"

Tenchi smiled, glancing at Tris. Then he looked in Ayeka's direction. She caught his look.

"I apologize, Lord Tenchi," she said. "My Guardians are programmed to respond automatically to danger, as you know."

"It's not your fault, Ayeka."

Ryoko rose from petting her cabbit and folded her arms across her chest. "Who's fault is it, then? Mine?"

"No, of course not, Ryoko. It's mine. I forgot to remind Washuu this morning. I just...forgot about her." Tenchi looked bemused.

Ryoko, mollified, bent down again to resume ruffling Ryo-Ohki's long, furry ears. The cabbit quivered with delight.

"Easy to do, Tenchi," Kiyone offered. "She spends so much time in that lab of hers. I forget about her myself."

"She doesn't even eat her meals with us," Sasami added. "Most of the time."

"Or even sleep in the house with us," Mihoshi agreed. She smiled a little dolefully at Tris. He looked so confused. She felt bad for him. She felt bad for Tenchi, too. He looked so sad.

"Tris, I'm really--really--sorry about all this," Tenchi said.

"Why? It's not your fault...unless you're going to start flying around, too."

"No." Tenchi had to smile. "Not me."

Behind the two young men, Lord Yosho cleared his throat. "Perhaps we should conduct further introductions and explanations..."

He stopped.

Washuu had reappeared again, carrying a small metallic-looking box. She walked up to Tris, opened the box, and reached in. She withdrew a small wafer that glowed eerily.

"Here, you," she said. "Put this on your forehead."

Tris back-pedaled from her. "And...why would I do that?"

Washuu looked a bit exasperated. "Never mind. Just put it on your forehead."

"Wait a minute, Washuu," Tenchi interceded. "What's that going to do to him?"

"You really want me to say--in front of him?"

"Yes, I do," Tenchi said firmly.

"Well..." Then Washuu smiled and said lightly, "It'll just wipe his memory clean. That's all. Won't hurt a bit."

"Huh?" Tris exclaimed. "What?"

"Are you hard of hearing? I said--"

"He heard what you said, Washuu," Tenchi said. "How much of his memory are you planning to...wipe out?"

"Ohhh, just the past day or so. Can't narrow it down any more than that. There's no pain, like I said. No big deal."

"No big deal?" Tris responded incredulously.

"Listen, are you going to repeat everything I say--?"

"Forget it, Washuu," Tenchi interrupted.

"What?"

Tris couldn't resist. "He said, forget it. Are you hard of hearing?"

Washuu gave him a quick look of grudging respect. Then she returned to Tenchi. "But, Tenchi--he knows. At least, he knows too much!"

"So...he knows."

Washuu stared at Tenchi, her expression puzzled.

Ryoko stopped petting Ryo-Ohki. She now rose into the air and zipped down to the small group. She hovered above them.

"Tenchi, make him put that thing on his head. You can't let him know about us."

"Why not?"

"It's dangerous!"

"Why, Ryoko?" Tenchi asked.

"Well, it's obvious! He's an outsider. He's not one of us. He'll tell--he'll ruin everything!" Ryoko insisted.

Tenchi turned to Tris. "Will you tell?"

"I'm no fink," Tris said. "Ask any kid at recess. Besides, I don't care for the tailoring of the strait-jackets they make these days."

Tenchi turned to Ryoko and Washuu. "There you go."

"Good for you, grandson," Yosho murmured behind him.

Washuu looked at Tenchi, then at his grandfather. She shrugged. "Okay. I can see where this is going. See ya."

She turned and walked back to the house.

"There's a candidate for my fan club, for sure," Tris remarked.

"Oh, she's always brusque like that. It's nothing personal." Tenchi said it with more confidence than he felt.

Ryoko hovered above Tenchi now. She spoke anxiously. "I can't believe you're not going to do something about this. Letting some outsider in, letting him know...hey, help me out here, Princess."

"She has a point, Lord Tenchi," Ayeka spoke, her voice soft but firm, from where she stood with the other women. "It is quite a risk."

""Lord" Tenchi?" Tris asked. He'd finally caught on to how that formal-looking young woman addressed his roommate.

Tenchi waved it aside. "Later, buddy."

"Right-o," Tris said. Later for a lot of things.

"Listen, all of you," Tenchi said slowly and deliberately to the women. "Tris is my friend. I trust him as I trust all of you. I just didn't want to...well, burden him with all this. That's why I asked you all to kind of deceive him. It wasn't because I didn't trust him." Tenchi stopped. "That sounds pretty lame, I know."

"Not to me, old buddy," Tris said, grinning. "Sounds about right. It all kind of makes sense now. Kind of," he added.

"That was well spoken and truly spoken, grandson," Yosho said. He gently laid a hand on one of Tenchi's shoulders.

Ayeka regarded Tenchi with consternation. "You have only known this person for what--a few months? Can you be so certain, Lord Tenchi? Please reconsider. An outsider!"

"Yeah," chimed in Ryoko. "What she said."

"Yes, I can be certain," Tenchi said, firmly. "I knew all of you for a lot less time before I learned to trust you. And you were all outsiders, at first."

Standing behind his grandson and Tris, Lord Yosho nodded approvingly.

Suddenly little Sasami spoke up. "Tenchi is right, big sister. If Tenchi trusts him, we should too. Don't you think so?"

"He's nice!" Mihoshi burst out. "He's funny, too. I want him to stay."

Tris smiled his thanks at the bubbly tanned blonde. He also smiled at the cute little girl with the long, long pigtails. Then he regarded the quiet, pretty woman standing beside the blonde. This was the lady who had made such an indelible impression on him. She still did. Tris found himself caring, caring awfully, what she would say.

Kiyone smiled slightly. "Well, first if all, I suggest we stop talking about him as if he weren't here."

"Thank you," Tris said.

Kiyone looked at him with those grave blue eyes. "You're welcome." She turned to the other women. "Frankly, I don't think any one of us whose last name isn't "Masaki" has anything to say about it. We're all guests here, we're all different, and we all have to trust each other. If Tenchi trusts Tris--boy, that's a tongue twister--" she grinned "--then that's good enough for me. It should be good enough for you."

All of the other women--even Ryoko--took a moment to stare at Kiyone with amazement. That was the most animated speech the Galaxy Police officer had uttered in some time. And she had made a joke! If nothing else good was happening, Kiyone seemed to be withdrawing from her despondency at last.

"I couldn't have said it better myself, Detective," Yosho told her.

Kiyone bowed respectfully to the man who was, among other things, a Juraian Prince of the blood. Lord Yosho bowed back.

"Yes, well said, Kiyone," Tenchi added gratefully.

Tris just smiled at her again. She returned the smile...and even gave him a small wink.

Then she grimaced as her partner, Mihoshi, delightedly patted her back. "That was neat, Kiyone!"

"Okay, Mihoshi, that's enough." Mihoshi stopped patting but she didn't stop smiling at her partner.

"You're all wrong!" Ryoko insisted. She sounded (and was) severely exasperated. It appeared to the space pirate that everyone was turning against her. Ironically, her only ally seemed to be-- "Princess, say something!"

Ayeka pursed her lips. In her heart, she agreed with Ryoko, but it would be useless to remonstrate with Lord Tenchi. He wanted this outsider to stay and insisted on trusting him. Lord Tenchi was entirely too trusting, but now was not the time to tell him so. Well versed in court intrigue, First Princess Ayeka Jurai know when to make a tactical retreat.

"I cannot entirely approve," she said, quietly. "Time will tell. But it is Lord Tenchi's wish, and we should accede to it."

"Oh...balls!" Ryoko spat out. She streaked away.

"My fan club grows and grows," Tris observed, watching Ryoko fly to the house. Then he saw her disappear into the house. Through a wall.

"No...we'll just let that one pass," he muttered.

"What?" Tenchi asked him.

"Nothing." He gave Tenchi a lopsided, one-dimpled smile. "Nothing at all--"Lord" Tenchi! Should I bow or just kiss your ring?"

Tenchi placed a hand at the back of his head in a characteristic gesture and laughed embarrassedly. "Like I said, I'll explain all that," he promised.

"And as I was saying," Yosho resumed. "I suggest we all go inside, now that the house is back on its foundations. It is time for luncheon. We can go into the introductions and explanations there."

"Yay!" said Mihoshi. "I'm hungry!"

"So what else is new?" Kiyone rejoined, rolling her eyes heavenward.

Mihoshi just laughed with delight. Even exasperation was much more preferable from her partner than all that glum silence.

"Good idea! I can have a meal prepared quickly," Sasami smiled. "First, I'll make some tea for all of us."

"She does the cooking?" Tris muttered to Tenchi. "That little doll?"

"Later," Tenchi muttered back.

"I'll help you, Sasami," Ayeka offered. She had decided to make the best of a bad situation. But she still privately agreed with Ryoko. The next three days couldn't pass quickly enough for her.

"Thanks, big sister!"

The group, now including Tris Coffin, moved toward the house. Ryo-Ohki joyfully bounded along behind them, sensing that the mood had lightened. As did Sasami, the cabbit liked it that way.

------

The Masaki household indulged in an extended luncheon that day.

With all the questions and answers, and the need to ingest food, the midday meal seemed almost endless. But at least Tris was brought up to speed (in a very shallow sense) with the unique status of both his hosts and his fellow guests.

Unique status! They were all space aliens, except for Tenchi, who was only part space alien but also a space alien prince, as was his grandfather, who was a full-blooded space alien (his real name was Yosho, Lord Yosho, and that was how everyone addressed him). However, Tenchi's father, who was at work, was fully terrestrial. The women were clearly not guests, not really. They were all part of the Masaki family now. Tris was the only real guest...and not a very welcome one.

Ryoko, the space pirate and super-powerful being...Ayeka Jurai, the crowned Princess of the distant planet also called Jurai, possessor of the mighty Jurai power...her little sister, Sasami, also a Princess of Jurai and a terrific cook...Mihoshi Kuramitsu and Kiyone Makibi, Detectives First Class of the Galaxy Police, piloting vehicles and using weaponry that made anything on Earth seem like sticks and stones...that redheaded scientist who had wanted to whack out his memory, Washuu Hakubi, not present, said to be in her lab somewhere...that cute little feline rabbity creature, Ryo-Ohki, who was Ryoko's pet, said to also be Ryoko's starship (Tris would have to see that to believe it, though)...and, oh, yeah, those two lawn ornaments, called Guardians--Azaka II and Kamidake II. Evidently they were the "second generation," whatever that meant.

It was a lot to absorb and to keep track of. Almost too much, really. It also turned certain tenets of Tris's basic belief system on their collective ear. It was rather like finding out that there really was a Santa Claus and an Easter Bunny...and that the Easter Bunny was not very happy to see you.

Yet there was one factor that helped Tris accept the unacceptable-- the fact that, space aliens or not, these were clearly people he was meeting. Extraordinary people, but people. Aside from a few examples of exotic hair and eye coloring and the shape of a few ears, the women, in appearance, might well have come from Earth. In manner, they seemed like regular folks--regular folks who normally lived, worked, and played many light years away.

Nearly all the women had willingly, and, in a few cases, even eagerly, answered his questions and volunteered information he would never have thought to ask for. All except Ryoko. The most-wanted fugitive space pirate (Tenchi had told him a little about her as they walked to the house) had just floated down from the high ceiling's heavy beamed rafters when Sasami served dinner. Ryoko had eaten her meal in a silence punctuated only by grunts, then had floated away once she finished. In short: She was ticked off, mightily. Still.

It was an uncomfortable situation, Tris realized. Here was a woman who could blast open steel walls and doors with power beams and she was less than pleased with him. That alien Princess, Ayeka, was also long on super powers and short on regard for him despite her cold politeness, he also realized. It was a ticklish situation. Like the house slippers on his feet. He grinned inwardly. He, of course, followed the standard practice of exchanging his Weejuns at the house's entryway, or genkan, for house slippers--only, the family didn't have house slippers that fit American size 12D. Oh, well, he'd have to adjust to that, too.

Now only Tris, Kiyone, and Mihoshi still sat (actually, squatted on their tatami mats) around the traditional chabudai rectangular dining table, set on an elevated platform in the dining room. Through an open serving window at one end, Tris could see that the kitchen gleamed with modern gadgetry. Tenchi's home was an interesting mixture of the traditional and the contemporary. Tris noticed that the walls enclosing the dining room seemed somewhat newish. He had the impression that the dining room had once been an open space, adjacent to the living room. The ceiling beams looked relatively recent as well. He would have to ask Tenchi the reason for the remodeling sometime.

"So you and Mihoshi were assigned here...to Earth?" Tris now asked Kiyone. She was the easiest one to talk to, and really, the one he wanted most to talk to for the matter of that. Sasami was a sweet kid and Mihoshi was a bigger sweet kid, but Kiyone really seemed more attuned to him, somehow, although she was from outer space, too. "After you found Mihoshi, who got stranded here trying to capture Ryoko?" It was hard to keep everyone's story straight.

"Uh-huh. Actually, assigned to this section--our patrol sector. It covers a pretty wide area of open space. It's also a restricted area, since none of the inhabited planets in it are members of the Galactic Union."

"Are there other inhabited planets in your sector?" Tris asked, his curiosity piqued.

"Ummmm...no," Kiyone replied, glancing down at her teacup. "Just this one."

"Yeah? Then, why--"

"Oh, we're really just traffic patrol for the few ships that pass through!" Mihoshi burst into the conversation, eager to enlighten. "And we stop ships that aren't authorized to be here. Sometimes we help folks who have breakdowns. Not much action at all!"

"Thanks a lot, Mihoshi!" Kiyone grated. Clearly, this was a sensitive topic for the teal-haired Galaxy Police officer.

"Ummm..." Tris thought it wise to change the subject. "So after you found Mihoshi here, and then were assigned here, the Masakis invited you to move in?"

Kiyone seemed to hesitate in answering the question. Then Mihoshi shoved her oar in again.

"Oh, no! Kiyone and I tried to live in our own apartment in Okayama City where you go to college. But we didn't have enough money left after our salary deductions to pay the rent and to buy food and stuff. We were starving! We got part-time jobs but always got fired somehow. So we had to come here to eat and then--"

Kiyone clapped a hand over Mihoshi's mouth. "You always say too much, Mihoshi!"

Moving right along...Tris asked, "That was the first time you were here, right? And this is your second stay here?"

Mihoshi nodded but said nothing, since Kiyone's hand still sealed her mouth.

Time to change the subject again. "Well, do you have any questions for me?"

Mihoshi pushed Kiyone's hand aside. "Are you a cowboy?"

"Huh?"

Then a voice floated down from the rafters: "Why, Mihoshi? Do you think he looks like a cow?" There was a peal of laughter. "Moo!"

Tris didn't bother to look up. He knew who said that.

"Ignore her," Kiyone advised.

He nodded.

"Tris, you didn't answer my question," Mihoshi protested.

"She thinks all Americans are cowboys from watching American TV," Tenchi explained with a grin, walking over to them from where he had been talking to his grandfather.

"I do not, Tenchi," Mihoshi denied. In fact, she also thought, thanks to TV, that Americans were doctors and lawyers and detectives and poor, put-upon fathers. "I just like cowboys and horsies and things." Her wide blue eyes turned to Tris again for his answer to her question.

"Well, my Uncle Bosley has horses. I've ridden them...fallen off of them..."

"Wow! Tris is a cowboy!" Mihoshi was excited. "I knew it!"

"Where's your ten-gallon hat, Tex?" the voice from the rafters asked.

"In the trunk of my car with my spurs and six-gun," Tris couldn't resist answering. He was getting annoyed at Ryoko.

"I told you to ignore her," Kiyone said.

"Yeah, you'd better," Tenchi advised, looking a little irritated as he surveyed the rafters.

"You rode a horse, Tris?" little Sasami queried, walking in from the kitchen. She and Ayeka had carried the luncheon dishes in there. "That's so neat! I love horses. I'd love to ride one."

"How about falling off one?" the voice from the rafters snickered. "Tris can show you how!"

"I'm sure Tris is a fine rider," Sasami, the little sweetheart, said to the rafters. She was wrong, of course, but Tris chose not to enlighten her. Sasami smiled at him and returned to the kitchen.

"Say...how is it that you can watch American TV?" The question had just occurred to Tris. He was not razor sharp today by any means.

"You forget Tris, we come from an alliance of planets where people speak all sorts of different languages," Kiyone explained. "We become adept from a very young age to learn new languages. English is actually easier to learn than Japanese." She smiled and then said, in English, "What's up?"

"You know what's up!" Tris grinned at her. "That's great. But I meant, how is it that you can watch American TV programming here? Japanese cable has only a little American programming and no American channels. I know. I have to maintain a huge video vault here just so I can see my favorite old movies."

"He does!" Tenchi grinned. "Takes up about half of his closet in the dorm. Those old movies are fun to watch, especially the horror movies."

"So...how do you do it?" Tris repeated his question.

"Oh, that." Kiyone waved a hand. "We pick up all the American and other satellite channels here."

"But how?" Tris was puzzled.

"Come over to the TV set, and I'll show you," Tenchi offered.

Tris rose, along with Mihoshi and Kiyone, and followed Tenchi to the living room. The specious, well-sunlit room, furnished with two comfortable and matching couches and several chairs, also boasted a largish TV monitor. Tris noticed his leather jacket draped over one of the couches where he had deposited it. He slipped it on, although the weather was quite balmy. He just liked to wear it.

"See this black box on top of the set?" Tenchi asked him.

"Yeah."

"Well, Washuu rigged it up. It collects all satellite channel transmissions, from everywhere on Earth, and brings them to the set. We can tune in any channel."

"Like MTV!" said Mihoshi.

"And Court TV," Kiyone added. "Very informative...from a strictly professional standpoint, of course."

"But to pick up satellite transmissions you need line of sight. You can't just pick up satellite signals from anywhere, like radio waves..." Tris stopped. The others were grinning at him.

"Got a clue yet, genius?" The voice from the rafters had moved and was right above them now.

"Okay, okay, you got me," Tris admitted. "Washuu. If she can raise the house, I suppose she can make satellite beams bend, too."

"Not exactly like that," Tenchi told him. "Washuu explained it once. It's sort of like a scanner. It seeks out and grabs the satellite beams...that's all I could understand."

"Good enough." Tris shook his head wonderingly. All the world's satellite stations! He wished he were staying longer. Maybe not, though. He could become a regular couch potato here.

He felt a touch behind him. He turned and found himself facing Kiyone. She smiled at him.

"Nice jacket!" she said. "Leather, right?"

"That's right...lambskin. USAF official issue. It was my Dad's."

"Hah! He wears animal skins!" the voice from the rafters pointed out. "Who's the barbarian around here now?"

Kiyone acted as if she had not heard. "United States Air Force, huh? What's that emblem in back?"

"My Dad's first fighter squadron--the old Fifth Fighter Interceptor Squadron.(2)"

"Why is there a kitty cat on the emblem?" Mihoshi wanted to know.

"It's a bobcat. But you're right in a way, Mihoshi. The squadron was known as the "Spittin' Kittens" during World War Two."

"Spitting?" Mihoshi looked confused.

"They flew Spitfires," Tris said.

"Huh?"

"British fighter planes, Mihoshi," Kiyone explained.

Tris regarded her with admiration. "You're good."

"Of course I am." Kiyone walked over to the large picture window that faced the front lawn.

Tenchi smiled, watching her. Kiyone was good--she was the best. And now definitely coming out of her shell...good for Tris!

"That's a cool car," Kiyone said, looking out the window. "Why don't you show it to me, Tris?"

"Sure. Let's all go."

Tenchi walked to the front door and slid it open. He, Tris, Mihoshi, and Kiyone exchanged house slippers for street shoes and stepped outside into the brilliant spring sunshine.

The voice stayed where it was in the rafters.

------

"Where's everyone going?" Sasami, hearing the front door open, asked her big sister in the kitchen. The little Princess was laying out the vegetables that needed to be sliced up for dinner. She wanted to soak them for a few hours in a special oil she had discovered before stir-frying them later. She and Ayeka had just finished washing and drying the luncheon dishes.

"Oh, outside," Ayeka replied, with a show of disinterest. "I shall help you cut up these vegetables, Sasami."

"Thanks!" Sasami beamed.

Then the little girl's smile faded as she observed the violence with which Ayeka attacked the defenseless vegetables. She wielded the knife with gusto, chopping with rather disturbing speed and power.

"Better be careful, Ayeka," Sasami cautioned. "You don't want to cut yourself."

"I am perfectly capable of cutting vegetables, thank you very much," Ayeka said curtly. "I know I cannot cook, but I can certainly cut vegetables."

"I'm sorry..." Sasami said in a small voice.

Ayeka put down the knife, which was all but smoking. She regretted snapping at her little sister. The real objects of her anger were outdoors.

"I am sorry, too, Sasami dear. I am not angry at you."

"Are you still upset about Tris staying here?"

"Yes. It is wrong of me, perhaps...but I just do not think it was wise to have him here. And to let him know about us! So far, Lord Tenchi is spending all his time with him." Ayeka sounded genuinely distressed.

"Now she tells us!" Ryoko's voice sounded from the ceiling beams.

"Ryoko!" Ayeka looked up. "You come down now!"

"I don't wanna."

"Come down this instant!"

"Please, Ryoko," Sasami added.

"Oh, okay...since the Junior Princess asked me."

Ryoko floated down. She stood before Ayeka and Sasami, her hands on her hips.

"You sure changed your tune, Princess," she charged. "Again!"

"I have not changed my tune, as you put it. And please stop calling Sasami "Junior Princess," Ryoko." Ayeka hated the silly nickname that Ryoko had recently begun using to refer to Sasami. The Princess was convinced that Ryoko did it just to annoy her.

"I don't mind it, big sister," Sasami said.

"I do," Ayeka said firmly.

"Well, which is it?" Ryoko asked. "Do you want that chump here or not?"

"I do not want him here. I have made that quite clear. But Lord Tenchi wants him here. And I know that the first day is almost over, which leaves only two more days until he is gone."

"I can count, too, Princess," Ryoko said sourly. "What about him knowing about us? Washuu had the perfect solution and Tenchi stopped her. It would have solved everything"

"But that was wrong!" Sasami objected. "Tris didn't do anything to deserve that. Tenchi invited him here. Why should he have that awful thing done to him?"

Ayeka smiled fondly at Sasami. "Do you think she might have a point there?" she asked Ryoko.

"Yeah, well...maybe."

Ayeka now spoke softly but earnestly. "Ryoko, it is not to my advantage to tell you this. But all you are doing is alienating Lord Tenchi. That person will soon be gone--and good riddance--but Lord Tenchi will remember how you treated his friend."

Ryoko lowered her eyes. The good sense in what Ayeka said had obviously penetrated her truculence. "I guess I really didn't think," she admitted. She raised her eyes. "It's real decent of you to say that, Princess...seeing we're both after the same guy."

"Fair fight, I believe you said once."

"Yeah...fair fight. Okay, I'll ease up on the chump. I won't kill him, but I'm not about to like him. He's so goofy and he clumps around on those big feet of his and he talks so loud. Jeeze! Do all Americans talk so loud?"

Ayeka sighed. "I understand that they do. America is not a very civilized country, I understand."

"Good thing those Americans have their own country. They ought to stay there!"

"We agree on that at least, Ryoko!"

"I don't agree," Sasami said. "Americans are like everybody else. I think Tris is nice and funny...and interesting. He's not bad looking at all. He has a nice smile."

Ryoko smiled. "Sounds like the Junior Princess has a crush on the chump."

Ayeka smiled, too. "It seems she may have to fight Kiyone for him," she kidded. "And please stop calling Sasami "Junior Princess," Ryoko."

Sasami colored, but said nothing. She walked to the cupboard, stood on the footstool she used to reach high objects, and began putting the washed teacups away.

"That Kiyone! She's sure snapped out of her slump. And it's about time," Ryoko noted. "She was getting to be a pain to be around."

"Yes, that is good to see, anyway...I think," Ayeka replied thoughtfully.

------

Tenchi, Tris, Mihoshi, and Kiyone had gathered around Tris's vintage car. Kiyone and Tris were leaning on the passenger side door, looking into the interior, while Tenchi was showing Mihoshi the rear of the Mustang so she could see "where the smoke comes from."

"Cassette player, huh?" Kiyone remarked, examining the dashboard. "Why not a CD player...or even an MP3 player?"

Tris looked at her, surprised.

"Hey, I keep up with things around here. I don't just take up space," Kiyone said, feeling a bit irritated.

"I'll say! Well, to answer your question, I have a bunch of old cassette tapes my Mom and Dad loved--they're the old, classic rock and pop songs. Guess I grew to love them, too. That's about all I play now. They're in that black container on the floor there."

"It sounds as if you keep your parents pretty close to you," Kiyone said softly

"Yeah...I guess I do." Tris looked away.

Sensing she had broached a sore subject, Kiyone changed it. "Don't you like the new stuff?" she asked Tris. "Some of what they call "alternative rock" isn't too bad at all."

"Yeah, I like some of that stuff, too. I'll put in a CD player someday."

"Hey!" cried Mihoshi from the rear of the car.

"I told you not to put your finger in the exhaust pipe, Mihoshi," Tenchi's voice came from there also.

Mihoshi and Tenchi rose into view. Mihoshi was extending her right index finger. It was black.

"It's all sooty," she said with wonderment. "Does you car burn trees, Tris?"

Next to her, Tenchi grinned. Tris heard Kiyone groan softly beside him.

"No, just gas." Tris whipped out his handkerchief. He went to Mihoshi, and took her hand. He gently wiped off her index finger, until all the exhaust residue was gone.

"There...that's better," he smiled at the tanned, blonde galactic police officer. "You want to be more careful where you stick your finger next time."

Mihoshi just stared at him, her blue eyes shimmering. Tris couldn't have known it, but such acts of simple kindness were rarely shown to Mihoshi and it impressed her greatly. She treasured kindness above all else.

"I've told her that before," Kiyone said resignedly. "A few thousand times."

"Well, no harm done," Tenchi said.

"Tris, thanks for showing me your car," Kiyone told him. She smiled at him. It was about a million-candlewatt smile, Tris decided.

"Well...why not come out on a drive with me?" Tris surprised himself by asking. "Say tomorrow afternoon."

Kiyone glanced behind her. Mihoshi was slowly spelling out the letters M-U-S-T-A-N-G on the car's rear end, while Tenchi explained to her what a mustang was.

"You're a fast worker," Kiyone said sardonically.

"It's just a drive. I don't have much time here, you know. How about it?"

Kiyone said no. That is, she started to say no. Then she decided she would like to get away from the Masaki homestead for a little while. This guy wasn't anything special, but he was okay. Besides, he would be gone in a few days. Going out with him once wouldn't mean anything. Why not?

"Okay, then. After lunch tomorrow. Just a drive, understand." Kiyone wanted to make that crystal clear.

"Of course. It's not like it's a date or anything."

It was an unfortunate choice of word. At the word "date," both of them cast their eyes away from each other. Kiyone felt a blush creep into her cheeks. She shook her head angrily. She was on the verge of canceling the drive.

"You got that right! I don't know, Tris...it could be fun, though."

"What could be fun?" Mihoshi asked brightly, walking up to her.

Kiyone relented. It would be just a drive.

"Enough fun!" she told her partner. "It's time we put some work in around here, Mihoshi. We've had enough time off. We still have those drapes upstairs to shake out."

"Aw, do we have to?" Mihoshi objected. "I want to stay and talk to Tris about horsies and things. His car is named after a horsie, you know."

"We have to, Mihoshi. You can talk to him later." Kiyone took Mihoshi's arm and firmly led her away.

"Bye Tris...Tenchi..." Mihoshi called out sadly. Her blue eyes remained on Tris until she and Kiyone reached the front door. Then they both disappeared inside.

"Well." Tris said. "That was fun. Kind of."

Tenchi agreed. "You sure made an impression on them. Mihoshi really likes you. And Kiyone's almost like her old self again."

"I'm glad. Of course, I kind of like that Kiyone's new self, too."

"Tris..." Tenchi spoke a bit hesitantly. "Don't make any mistakes about Kiyone. She's tough, very, very smart, and has loads of common sense. She's completely dedicated to the Galaxy Police and her career. She's never had time for guys before. Just so you know."

"Right-o," Tris said. "I got that impression. You know I'm not looking for anything serious, buddy. She's pretty nice and we might go out for a drive or something, but that's it."

"Good!" Tenchi looked relieved. "Now let me show you the rest of the place. We have a cave--that's where we found Washuu--and a garden, and some nice woodlands."

"Lead on, Mark Trail," Tris said. "I will follow."

------

Dinner at the Masakis turned out to be much briefer than luncheon and considerably less strained. Everybody had, more or less, adjusted to Tris's presence, or at least appeared to. Even Ryoko was cordial to him, which relieved both Tris and Tenchi--especially Tris, who recalled again what Tenchi had told him about her powers. Ryoko even asked him casually, "Have you ever been shot at?"

"What?" Tris dropped his chopsticks on the table and stared at the platinum-haired space pirate.

"I watch TV, too, and even some of the American shows. Everybody's always shooting and crashing their cars in them."

"That's just TV, Ryoko. Not real life in the States," Tris assured her.

"Too bad." Ryoko grinned. "It sounded like my kind of place!"

"Un-doubtedly..." Ayeka commented.

"Hey, I thought we were on our best behavior, Princess," Ryoko said to Ayeka, nettled.

"I am," Ayeka replied sweetly. "I, for one, did not denigrate our visitor's homeland."

Ryoko scowled. She had a real hot one to hand off to the Princess. But then her eyes caught Tenchi's eyes. He gently shook his head. She smiled slyly. Best behavior, huh? Okay, but just for her Tenchi. Ryoko turned to the American. "Tris, try some of these cabbage rolls. They're delicious and good for you, too."

Tris, caught off guard again, now dropped his chopsticks on his lap.

"You spastic or something?" Ryoko asked.

"Don't worry, Tris," Mihoshi comforted him. "I sometimes do that myself."

"Believe her," Kiyone added.

Tris retrieved his chopsticks quickly. "Thanks, Ryoko," he said. "I'll be glad to." He took several cabbage rolls from the platter. Then he popped one into his mouth. Ryoko was right. They were delicious. Sasami was a wonderful cook.

The meal proceeded without further incident.

------

It was after dinner when Tris finally met Tenchi's father, Nobuyuki Masaki.

Tris had risen from the table and heard Tenchi's grandfather in the hallway talking to someone. He followed Tenchi to the hallway. There he saw Tenchi's grandfather and a tall, heavy-chested, somewhat stooped middle-aged Japanese man, wearing a business suit and carrying a fully packed briefcase. He wore glasses and had a mustache, but otherwise he was an older version of Tenchi.

Lord Yosho stepped out the front door after nodding amiably at his grandson and Tris.

"Tris," Tenchi said. "I am pleased to present my honorable father, Nobuyuki."

Before Tris could bow, Tenchi's father held out his hand. They shook hands. Nobuyuki smiled a broad, friendly smile at Tris.

"Welcome to our home," he said cordially. "I'm glad to finally meet my son's roommate. He's told me a lot about you."

"He did? Well, I'm taking medication now, so don't worry, sir."

Tenchi's father laughed. "You live up your billing." He walked toward the stairs. "If you'll excuse me, you two, I'll put my things away."

"We'll go with you, Dad," Tenchi said quickly.

"Fine."

Tenchi and Tris followed Nobuyuki up the stairway. They all walked into a small, cramped bedroom-cum-office, where a wooden draftsman's easel stood amidst filing cabinets and a small computer hutch in one corner.

Nobuyuki placed the briefcase down on a small, paper-strewn table. He opened it, and began to take stacks of documents from it.

"Oh Dad, don't start working again already," Tenchi said, distressed. "You've already missed dinner from working overtime."

"I had a quick dinner at that café by the office. And I really need to get a little more done today, son."

"You're putting in so many hours, Dad. It's not fair."

"Well, life isn't fair, Tenchi." Nobuyuki raised his head and smiled apologetically. "When we finally finish the Teijun project, I should have more free time."

"You said that about the Yosung project, Dad," Tenchi reminded him quietly.

"I know...I'm sorry, Tenchi. Tristram, I hope you don't feel I'm a poor host."

"No, sir, not at all. I understand about overtime. My parents put in a lot of it sometimes. Especially during the Gulf War."

"In your Air Force, weren't they?" Nobuyuki said a bit distractedly, already ruffling through drawings and estimates.

"Yes, sir."

"Well, Dad, I guess we'll go," Tenchi said, hesitantly.

"All right. Tristram, let's have a talk before you leave."

"It's a promise, Mr. Masaki. By the way, I love this house!"

Tenchi's father smiled at him. "Well, thank you!"

Tenchi and Tris left Nobuyuki, who was busily powering up his Apple computer.

"Ummm..." Tris said, as they walked down the stairs. "Not going to tell him about the house-raising party?"

"No," Tenchi said shortly. "Not right now. Dad has enough on his plate."

Tenchi was glumly silent as they walked downstairs. Tris kept quiet too. He knew Tenchi was upset about something.

They reached the ground floor.

Tenchi glanced into the living room. The women, aside from Washuu, were watching TV. Ryoko and Ayeka turned their heads and smiled at him. Ryoko patted a space on the couch beside her, invitingly. Tenchi shook his head. He was not in the mood for TV.

"Tris," Tenchi said. "Let's go for a walk. Okay?"

"Okay."

The two young men left the house and walked together into the lowering twilight. Neither spoke. A slight breeze massaged their faces. The insects had set up a jam session in the grass. Their twilight song was robust. The stars twinkled dimly as the sky darkened.

"I don't know what to do about Dad," Tenchi said suddenly.

"Do?"

"He's working himself sick. He's got that long commute every day to work and back and now they're piling up the overtime on him. He often misses dinner and then has to spend his evenings in that home office of his. I hardly ever see him."

"It's not his fault, is it, Tenchi?" Tris asked.

"No...but I'm not talking about fault. You know the economy isn't very strong right now. His firm grabs every job they can and they don't want to hire more people, so they just dump the excess on their employees like Dad. It's wearing him down, I can tell."

"That's pretty rotten, all right," Tris commiserated.

"Grandfather has talked to him, but..." Tenchi paused. They were near the edge of the lake--the lake with that amazing mammoth tree. Tris recalled he was going to ask Tenchi about that tree. Not now, of course.

Tenchi slowly squatted down and sat on the cool, thick grass. Tris followed suit.

The fireflies flickered out their romantic messages around them. Judging from all the flickering, some of them must have scored. Tris was quite warm even though he wasn't wearing the lambskin A2 jacket. It was unseasonably warm, in fact, for spring.

Then Tenchi spoke. "But Dad's afraid--really afraid--that they'll fire him if he complains about all the overtime. We can't afford to get by very long without his salary. I couldn't have afforded to go to the University without winning that scholarship first. So Dad feels he has to work so hard. He's trapped and it's not his fault. It's really my fault for the household costing so much to maintain."

"Hey, kids always cost, Tenchi. And parents always pay somehow."

"Yeah. But how many families have six extra females living with them?" Tenchi pointed out.

"Well...you said they're like family now."

"I know. They are family. I just hate Dad carrying that burden. It's just not fair."

Tris really did not know what to say. Tenchi was right. Guilt lay heavy on him. Tris knew all about guilt.

"I suppose," Tris tried to comfort Tenchi, "that as long as your father knows how you feel about him...that you appreciate how hard he works...the burden won't be too bad. You know?"

Tenchi's worried expression slowly relaxed into a small smile. "Yeah, you're right. Thanks, Tris. You know, you're the only one, aside from Grandfather, whom I can talk to about this. If I discussed it with any of the girls..." his voice trailed off.

"They'd feel awful and it wouldn't help things, anyway. Yeah, I see."

There was another silence between them. It was a friendly, companionable silence. Then Tenchi asked, "Well, Tris...what do you think?"

Tris knew what Tenchi meant by that question. "Well, buddy, you're either the luckiest guy I know or the unluckiest. I haven't made up my mind yet."

"I'm probably a little of both," Tenchi said with a faint touch of bemusement in his voice. "Still...I don't think I'd trade places with anyone I know."

For a little while longer, the two young men sat on the grass, watching the moon begin to rise slowly, its progress marked by its iridescent reflection on the silvery lake. It was a quiet, calm, silent time that they basked in together, as only two young males could.

Tenchi glanced at Tris. He thought about how they would come back to the dorm room after a particularly stressful day, and how they would just keep silent a while, resting on their beds. That silence had been comforting, somehow. It was a funny thing, but Tenchi felt he had gotten to know Tris better when they did not talk. He supposed that was a sign that a guy was a real pal and not just another acquaintance.

Absorbed in their thoughts, neither Tenchi nor Tris heard the sounds of footsteps behind them.

Suddenly a pair of soft hands covered Tris's eyes.

"Guess who?" a sweet voice challenged from behind him.

"Oh, Mihoshi!" Kiyone's irritated voice also sounded from behind.

"You told him!" Mihoshi said, disappointed. She removed her hands from Tris's eyes.

Tris and Tenchi stood up. Mihoshi and Kiyone stood there, smiling. Tenchi noted with wonderment that Kiyone's smile was almost shy as she looked at Tris.

"Hi, girls," he said.

"Great to see you two," Tris added. He looked directly at Kiyone. "Really great."

"Well, thanks," Kiyone returned. "The fact is, Mihoshi and I are on a mission."

"A mission?" Tris asked.

"That's right." Kiyone turned to Tenchi. "We were instructed in no uncertain terms to bring you back to the house."

"Yeah!" Mihoshi added. "You should have heard Ryoko and Ayeka!"

Tenchi groaned. "Those two!"

"Now, Tenchi." Kiyone grinned and waggled a finger at him. "After all, this is your one and only Spring Break. You do need to spend some time with them. It's only right, you know."

"I know. Com'on Tris, we'd better go back."

"Okay."

The four of them walked back to the house, whose lighted windows now glowed golden in the early evening dusk. They started out as a loose foursome. But, along with her other attainments, Kiyone was agile. Somehow she ended up walking beside Tris, leaving Mihoshi with Tenchi.

It was a great night for an evening stroll. They were laughing at a funny story that Mihoshi was telling about one of her three older brothers, Takei, when either a slight depression or slight elevation met Tris's foot. The usual result occurred. Tris tripped and plowed into the turf.

"Tris!" Mihoshi cried.

"Clumsy!" Kiyone snorted.

Tenchi shook his head. He'd seen that happen before.

Kiyone and Tenchi pulled Tris to his feet, while Mihoshi brushed him off.

"Ohhh...you aren't hurt, are you?" Mihoshi asked anxiously.

"I think the ground got the worst of it, Mihoshi," Tris said, quite embarrassed.

Still grasping his buddy's arm, Tenchi laughed. "Sorry. But I was just waiting for it, Tris. I knew a day couldn't go by without you stumbling."

"Glad I didn't disappoint you," Tris told him sarcastically.

"You didn't." Tenchi grinned.

Kiyone said, "Mihoshi, he's clean enough. Stop brushing him off. I'll hold on to him, Tenchi." She looked into Tris's face and brushed a blade of grass off his nose that Mihoshi had missed. That was one silly looking nose he had. "Now, you just take one step after another, Tris, and let's see if you can make it back to the house without falling again. Okay?" Her voice dripped with mock solicitude.

"Gee, do you think I can, Officer?" Tris gritted.

"I think so. If you take small steps and concentrate real hard."

"Thanks a heap!"

"No need to thank me. It's my duty to help the handicapped."

Tris was going to pay her back with interest, but Kiyone just slipped her arm around his arm and began to lead him forward...taking small steps. Tris gave up and went along with her. Besides, he rather liked being so close to the pretty galactic police officer.

Mihoshi and Tenchi smiled at each other and followed Kiyone and Tris.

They all made it back to the house without further mishap. All the way there, Tris could feel Kiyone shake with silent laughter as she held onto his arm. No doubt about it. He sure knew how to make an impression on a woman.

------

"Well, Tris," Tenchi murmured sleepily. "Quite a day for you..."

They were in Tenchi's--and now Tris's--bedroom. The room was dark, the house quiet. They had been lying in bed for a little while now--Tenchi on his actual bed, Tris on the futon. Sleep eluded them both.

"Hell of a day," Tris agreed, yawning. "Not a day I'd like to repeat, frankly."

"I understand, buddy. Tris, I have to say--you've taken all this a lot better than I would have expected."

He heard the American snort in the darkness. "Nothing to it! I just learned that there really are space aliens, and they're gorgeous! Also that space alien women make Wonder Woman look sick...that there's an extraterrestrial police force and they have the cutest cops I ever saw...that houses can fly...girls can fly...lawn ornaments can fly...and talk...that my college roommate is a space alien prince...that a little girl can cook up a storm." Tris yawned again. "No big deal...as that space alien scientist would say."

"Nope," Tenchi said, chuckling. "No big deal."

"But I'm still not clear about that Ryoko. She's super powerful and you say she's sort of like a demon, only she isn't, and she has a tail sometimes, so she's kind of a cat woman, only she isn't. Do I have it straight now?"

"You have it straight. But it's not a real tail, Tris," Tenchi said.

"Huh? It looked real."

"It's supposed to. Ryoko has a few outfits that have this kind of articulated tail attached to them. It moves and all, but it's just a prosthetic device. Ryoko told me she used to wear those outfits to frighten folks she robbed into thinking she really was a demon. Now she wears the outfits when she feels bored or...well, frisky." Tenchi chuckled again.

"A cat suit, huh? Well, I prefer Catwoman's, myself--with Michelle Pfeiffer in it."

"To each his own," Tenchi said. "Anyway, be patient with Ryoko and Ayeka, too. They're really wonderful. They just take a little while to warm up to strangers. They'll come around, believe me."

"I believe you, buddy. After today, I'll believe anything! No new taxes! Peace in our time! The check's in the mail! Anything!"

Tenchi grinned in the darkness. "Good night, Tris."

"Good night, Tenchi. And if this is a dream after all, don't wake me up. It's kind of fun, in a way."

"Yeah," Tenchi said, stretching out and yawning. "It really is fun. Like a carnival."

"It sure is." Tris agreed. "A carnival on steroids!"

------

Sasami was asleep. Then...she wasn't.

The room was dark. It was the spacious former master bedroom of the Masaki home that had been converted into a communal bedroom for her, Ryoko, Ayeka, Kiyone, and Mihoshi. All slept on futons. There was a rolled-up futon for Washuu as well, but the reclusive scientist usually slept in her sub-dimensional laboratory, where she usually ate as well.

Nobuyuki had designed his house for a small family--his immediate family--and it only had so many bedrooms. In the past, only Ryoko, Ayeka and Sasami had slept in the house itself, with Washuu bunking in her sub-dimensional laboratory, and Kiyone and Mihoshi staying in their own apartment in the city.

But now Mihoshi and Kiyone were obliged to live at the Masaki manse, too. On their return to Earth, they had tried to reside at their old apartment in the city. But since they were still paying rent for their apartments near GP Headquarters, their disposable income had dropped even lower. They practically starved just to pay the rent, even with part-time jobs. Then Kiyone had determined that they were taking an awful chance this time around holding down part-time jobs. It was against GP regulations to moonlight and Kiyone and Mihoshi were already on bad terms with their service. So they had abandoned their part-time jobs...and, in turn, had to abandon their apartment. It had been another humiliation for them, especially for Kiyone, in a series of humiliations. Both Kiyone and Mihoshi now paid a little money to Tenchi's father each month to help defray their room and board. But it was not enough to cover what their staying there cost the Masakis, and Kiyone, for one, knew it. It was not a happy situation.

Thus evolved the "women's dormitory," as Tenchi called it, or the "cat house," as Nobuyuki called it (but, wisely, only around his son and father-in-law). With the addition of Kiyone and Mihoshi, the spacious room teemed with futons. But the room itself was airy, with a high vaulted ceiling complete with skylight, and large windows (on the second floor, so there was sunlight and privacy, too). Each of them had a separate large wooden wardrobe. It wasn't so bad. Sasami rather enjoyed it. She loved being around the women and hearing them talk. She was secretly pleased Kiyone and Mihoshi had come to live with them this time around. The little girl wanted everyone in the family--her second family--near her.

Sasami could hear the steady, glottal wheeze of Mihoshi's snoring. But that hadn't wakened her. Rather like an alarm clock's ticking, all the women had become accustomed to the sound of Mihoshi's snores. Sasami thought it a comforting sound, really.

Then she sensed movement on the futon beside hers. Her older sister, Ayeka.

Ayeka was trembling, her eyes closed, sweat beading on her forehead. Then, with a spastic shudder, her eyes opened. Her mouth opened too, to scream.

Sasami, from long practice, clamped her hand over her big sister's mouth. Ayeka's eyes glared wildly at Sasami...then they softened.

Sasami knew she could remove her hand now.

"Another awful dream?" she whispered to Ayeka, her childish voice full of concern.

"Yes, dear. They seem to get worse, somehow. And I am so tired after I have them." Ayeka's whisper sounded weak, indeed.

"We need to tell someone..."

"No, Sasami. They are just dreams. I had them when I was about your age, you know. They went away. They will go away again."

"What if they don't?" Sasami was on the verge of tears. Ayeka looked so drawn and tired. She was so brave. She would burden no one with her problems.

"They shall." Ayeka settled herself back on her pallet. She pursed her lips. "I must admit...I am almost afraid to go back to sleep," she said ruefully.

Sasami's little hand found her sister's hand. "Maybe if I hold your hand, big sister, it might help you to sleep all right."

Ayeka smiled tenderly. "It just might, dear. Let us try, anyway. Shall we?"

"Okay."

Sasami and Ayeka settled back to sleep. Sasami held her sister's hand tightly. Perhaps it was just coincidence, but Ayeka enjoyed a deep, dreamless sleep the rest of the night.

_____________________________________________________

CHAPTER NOTES

(1) That name actually represents the (nonexistent) "town" or "village" approximation of "Makibi-Mihoshi."

(2) There really was a Fifth Fighter Interceptor Squadron, which had the honor of protecting America's airspace. That job has been farmed out to the Air Force Reserves and Fifth Fighter is no more.