Disclaimer: I do not own Detective Conan or Magic Kaito.
Oneshot Thirty-Three
Space Detective: The God Drug
Captain Shinichi of the featherweight-class spacecraft Holmes crept through the dark undergrowth. Despite breathing in through his mouth, the smell of rich soil and verdant plant life inundated him with every inhalation. It was enough to make his head swim, and combined with the jungle humidity he felt as if we were drowning. He kept sharp only with the awareness that, beyond the palisade walls of the Tropical Planet Resort, the jungle was rife with dangers lurking in every shadowed nook, perhaps following his creeping progress with nocturnally lit eyes.
Armed with nothing but a flashlight and some basic equipment, the young man was feeling woefully unprepared, and only the thought that Ran was informed of where he was going managed to sooth his nerves to some degree. At least, if nothing else, they would know the vicinity wherein to look for his body.
Beam of light reflecting off of something metallic, Shinichi's heart leapt into his throat. He swallowed, forcing it back down, and saw in shaky relief that it was nothing but the remains of a derelict structure from the resort, long reclaimed by the jungle. Large fronds and creepers had overrun what appeared to be a fire-damaged stage surrounded by snapped lengths of police tape. Screens loosely attached to what beams still stood continued to display damaged pictures on their cracked and dingy screens.
Interested despite himself, the detective allowed himself a moment to observe the glitch-ridden images. Most of them were dedicated to a performance by a galaxy-famous magician, but a few were different, including one that was a bounty on Kaitou KID.
Wasn't that the space bandit who had recently made a comeback?
He'd have to come back later. Still itching to snoop around the abandoned stage in hopes of an enticing mystery, Shinichi reminded himself of his current task and continued on.
Not too long later, a soft murmuring caught his ears, and Shinichi paused. He strained his hearing, and the sound was soon confirmed as actual voices and not the susurrus of a river. Peeking around a tree, his suspicions were realized with the proof that those men in black really had been up to no good. The human one, squat and wearing large sunglasses, had another individual, of a particularly slug-like persuasion, backed against the trunk of another tree.
Shinichi shuffled along the circumference of his tree, trying to make out what they were saying. It sounded like some sort of illicit transaction, though the electronic crackle of the giant, flesh-colored slug's translation device made discerning its side of the deal mostly incomprehensible at this distance, save that it was distressed.
He reached for his waist, hand grasping around the hilt of his stunsword. It was really a short sword at most, and designed to damage garments rather than flesh, but as its function was to deliver an incapacitating electrical shock, all that mattered was whether or not it made contact with the enemy.
The sword hissed as Shinichi drew it from its sheath, but promptly thudded to the detritus-strewn jungle floor and was followed not a moment later by its owner.
"Shall I kill him, Aniki?" Shinichi heard the black-clad human inquire, his voice accompanied by a nearly imperceptible high-pitched whine that the detective recognized as a raygun coming to life.
"No." Even through the haze of his thoughts, the dull but hot throbbing ache of his head, Shinichi winced at the rasping voice which snarled when pronouncing even so short a word, translated into the Common Language (one of human origins, of course, for their expansion throughout the galaxy had insistently pressed their own culture upon that of the other sapient beings they had encountered) through the best model of electronic translator that money could buy.
"It is too close to the resort. An investigation would be undertaken and all outgoing spacecrafts would either be grounded or checked. No, now is the perfect time to try out this new experimental drug."
"A new poison?" inquired the human.
"Yes, it kills rapidly and leaves no trace of its existence behind." That was the other black-clad man, though 'man' was not an apt word in regards to the being. He was a crocodilian in layman's terms, a humanoid being that was more anthropomorphic crocodile than anything else, save for the long blond hair that he had.
A rough hand gripped Shinichi by the hair, claws skimming his scalp. He groaned as his injured head was yanked back, lips pried open and something in a smooth, oblong shell slipped in, followed by the trick of water that washed it down his throat.
The crocodilian remained crouched down next to him, maw open in a facsimile of a smile to reveal rows of yellow teeth, his warm and odiferous breath wafting the heavy stench of smoke and viscera towards the semi-conscious teen detective.
Shinichi instinctively swallowed.
Immediately he was relinquished by the reptilian alien, face meeting the loam once more.
"Come on, let's go."
Spurred by his partner's growled command, the sunglasses-wearing thug was quick to consent and hurry after him, leaving behind the trembling form of their victim as searing pain racked his body.
With every wave of pain, the agony grew more and more unbearable. Bones snapped and melted, organs bursting and blood boiling. A scream wrenched free from his throat, sending birds and beasts of the jungle into a flurry to flee the scene.
Vision blurring, he heard the tromping of metal-encased feet and a worried exclamation, and then–
A flash of red, ice spreading its freeze, silver illuminating nothing.
Two colorless eyes staring out from a void.
An overpowering presence, imploding him from the pressure it exerted.
Curiosity piqued?
–Shinichi's world faded to black, nameless colors flitting in spidery streaks behind his eyelids for one final fraction of a moment.
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Turning onto his side, Shinichi grumbled at the beeps and metallic clattering that had disturbed his sleep. Had a cleaning robot gotten into his quarters again? Last time he checked, only Ran, Professor Agasa, and his parents were the people outside of himself who knew the access code to his personal rooms. Not even the professor would be careless enough to leave the entry unlocked, though. Mostly.
He settled for snuggling deeper into the thin blanket, a frown crossing his face as the papery texture of the fabric brushed against his skin. It felt more along the lines of the sick bay's poor excuses for blankets than the ones he owned.
Shinichi groaned, figuring that was probably it. Unfortunately, he was more familiar with the Holmes' sick bay than he would like, which Ran always gave him a good verbal-lashing for. Because really, what kind of bodyguard let their client (who was also their best friend) get into as much harm as the spacecraft captain did?
If nothing else, it spoke measures of his recklessness, since his friend was actually good at her job.
Wait a moment, Ran. What had happened again? Oh, that was right – he had accompanied her on a leisure outing at Tropical Land Resort. Shinichi sighed into his flat and plastic-covered pillow, knowing that she'd have his head for abandoning her.
Any guilt he may have felt was easy to ignore, since it wasn't like cases would just wait for him.
Daring to open his eyes a smidgeon, Shinichi winced and promptly shut them as the sight of light sent pain stabbing through his head. It definitely hadn't been his best idea though, leaving his bodyguard behind to follow a suspicious man into unfamiliar jungle terrain.
Epiphany hitting him, the captain rolled onto his back and jolted into sitting position in one fluid movement. Head screaming its disapproval, it was ignored as Shinichi recalled just what it was that had landed him in the sick bay.
He had been poisoned!
But then large hands were on his shoulders, gently but firmly pushing him back onto the mattress with an ease that disconcerted Shinichi – had the poison weakened him so much that he could offer no resistance?
The poison had been meant to kill him.
Yet he was still alive.
Shinichi opened his eyes again, forcing them to remain that way and adapt to the change in lighting.
"R-Ran?" The young woman was crouched at his bedside, accompanied by a medic-service robot. She was still dressed as he last remembered – good, not too much time had passed – in the casual clothes she had worn to the resort with him, from beneath which a glimpse of her cybernetic suit could be seen, though vegetation matter was snagged in her hair and clods of dirt speckled her person.
Shinichi was stopped from making any comment on her disheveled appearance by her visage. Her skin was wan and her forehead was creased with worry lines, lower lip gripped between her teeth.
"Shinichi?" she said after a moment's hesitation. Blinking, Shinichi wondered why that had sounded like a question.
"Uh, yeah." Why wasn't Ran hitting him yet? Usually by now her temper would blow up all over him.
She fidgeted in place before picking up a hand mirror she had set on the robot.
"You . . . you might want to take a look at yourself." She handed him the mirror, "I'll be right back, and then I expect you to tell me what happened to you before I found you."
Rising into a stand, Ran bustled out of the sick bay before Shinichi could respond. Unsettled, stomach feeling off-kilter, he inhaled and forced his attention to the mirror.
Oh, good, nothing wrong. Save for the bandages, he looked completely fine. Judging by Ran's behavior, he had been expecting his face to be melted, or spliced with alien genes to transform it into a monstrous image, or something equally gruesome.
But nope, it was his face.
Only . . .
A strangled sound clawed its way out of him. He scrutinized himself much more closely, agog at what he saw with a second-glance.
He was a kid!
It is to the understanding of We that you are unaccustomed to being a juvenile of your species.
Shinichi fell from the bed at the disembodied voice, which sent chills racking his spine for more reasons than just its unknown origin. It was an indescribable sound, like an ominously calm ocean on a starless night, something vast and erosive.
"Who's there? Reveal yourself!" His head snapped to and fro the large room, but there was nobody there, and it was too clear and free of static interference to be transmitted over the intercom.
Distances fathomless to an entity of your level separate our physical forms. Kudo Shinichi, heir of the Kudo fortunes, captain of your own private spacecraft, and aspiring detective. Not common feats for a human your age, or indeed for one many years your elder.
It took all of his effort just to keep his breathing steady.
"Speak sense! How do you know that? Who– no, what are you?" His child voice rose shrilly, and Shinichi couldn't help but cringe at how it sounded even to him.
There was silence on the other's end for the span of a heartbeat.
Your very essence is open to Us. We are interested in this connection you have established to Us, but know little beyond this. We have had little exposure to the myriad tiny life forms – We have not cared before. But you – We are now more intimately familiar with you than yourself.
Shinichi shuddered, even though the voice was unaffected in such a sterile way that it put monotone to shame.
"You still haven't completely answered me."
We are an existence the comprehension of which eludes you. However, We may be addressed as Volley. We insist on further communications with you, and use of names on both of our parts should facilitate this . . . Kudo Shinichi.
The sick bay door slid open as Ran entered, carrying a bundle in her arms.
We are Volley. Remember this.
Though Shinichi turned to Ran, his countenance was still dazed. Waiting a few more moments, after 'Volley' did not speak to him again, the shrunken detective relaxed marginally.
"No doubt you're surprised. Imagine how I felt, retrieving you and taking you back here. Shinichi, what happened?" Ran's tone was forcibly lighthearted at first, but in the end she settled for completely dropping it.
"I was poisoned, only . . . I didn't die. I guess this," he gestured at himself, taken aback with the realization that his hands were quivering, "happened instead. It was the man and crocodilian in black that did this."
Should he tell Ran that he was now hearing a voice?
No, definitely not.
"So they think you're dead?"
Shinichi nodded, swallowing past a developing knot in his throat.
"Probably. I mean, I'm still alive, after all."
"No thanks to your idiocy. I keep telling you you're going to die from it one of these days, and now you've barely avoided that." The girl glared at her childhood friend, though her heart wasn't in it.
Unable to meet Ran's eyes, the Holmes' captain instead stared down at his hands, which were clutched in his lap, effectively hiding their trembling.
"I brought you some clothes. They're your old ones, from when you were a kid. Your parents must have left them over from when they lived here." She placed the items she had been carrying next to Shinichi. He picked disinterestedly at the dark blue micro weave fabric and white accessories, speaking under his breath as he did so.
"What's that?" Ran leaned in after missing what Shinichi mumbled.
"I said, aren't you angry? I ran on ahead of you, and because of that, well, look at me!"
Ran snorted before cupping the not-child's face with her hands, forcing him to direct his attention at her.
"Of course I am. How could you do something so stupid? I thought you were supposed to be the smart one. But," she scolded, ignoring Shinichi's wounded expression to charge right on, "I know you. You're Kudo Shinichi, and you may be the most thick-headed genius ever, but you always pull through. You'll fix this, though you're not going to do it alone."
"Ran, I don't want to put you in danger," Shinichi objected, only for Ran to straighten up and retract her hands to settle them on her hips.
"Shinichi, I'm a karate master and your bodyguard; if anyone is in danger, it's you. In case you've forgotten, you're currently a pipsqueak with some dangerous enemies."
Scowling, Shinichi folded his arms over his chest.
"Fine. But that brings me to a new point: I can't just go around claiming to be who I am when I'm like this."
"Any ideas?"
"Besides hope that I'll wake up any moment now? We're going to have to come up with a new identity for me, and a cover story for it. You're going to be essential to it. Sorry, Ran."
"It's fine. So, what are you thinking?"
"Don't know. Highly intelligent child who has been placed under your charge for some reason?" Ran turned around as Shinichi started changing into the clothes she had brought him, peeling off his now oversized shirt in the process. He examined a pair of large goggles, which had clear lenses and circular black frames. They looked like his father's old ones, perhaps they had gotten mixed in with his things. Figuring they could only better serve as a disguise, he dropped them into place and tightened the band.
"Maybe your parents were injured in a spacecraft accident, and as Shinichi is your closest suitable relative – though still pretty distant – you were put into his custody. Only because Shinichi is off on a long-term, hush-hush case, you've fallen into my care?"
Shinichi blinked at Ran, mouth working silently for several moments.
"That is actually pretty well thought-out. It will work for now, though we should see about setting up evidence for my prior existence. Now we just need a name." Shinichi looked around, gaze alighting upon some of the books he kept in the sick bay for his stays. "What about Edogawa Conan?"
"It's kind of . . . stupid sounding."
"Who would expect Kudo Shinichi to name himself that? And you never would."
"If you insist . . . Conan-kun." Ran tested the sound of the pseudonym, pulling a slight face. Still, it worked.
"We should probably tell the professor also. He'd keep this a secret, and could help with our cover."
"For now you need to rest. You've been hit on the head and poisoned – I think you've done enough for today."
Not to mention that he was hearing 'Volley,' whatever Volley was besides a creepy voice in his head. Ran didn't need to know that though, even if a small part of him hoped it was just from the head trauma.
"Fine." Shinichi-turned-Conan yawned, and as Ran was just about to leave he addressed her again.
"And Ran?"
"Yes?"
"Thanks."
She smiled at him, before responding teasingly, "That's Ran-neechan to you, Conan-kun."
With that she left, and the newly-christened Conan dropped back completely onto the mattress, lips curling down as if he had bitten into something unpleasant.
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A/N: I've had this idea for a while now, but only found the inspiration to finish this chapter tonight. I may write more in the future, but probably not chronologically or anything. Maybe just introduce the AU counterparts of the canon characters (I have some awesome ideas . . . Haibara's is so insane). Sci-fi is fun, especially if you're concerned with the technical aspects. I tried to put them into this AU setting in a way that made sense, and I want to give characters like Ran actual focus beyond being a love interest – so in here she knows that Conan is Shinichi (and plays an active role in helping him), and kicks butt in a cybernetic suit that enhances her physical prowess.