"How do I get my son and Akane married?" Saotome Genma asked eagerly.
The aged master stared at the questioner blankly for a long minute, and then his eyes closed. The climber grinned and clasped his hands together before him. Finally!
The man stiffened, his eyes shooting wide open. "The star shines red.... It falls.... The earth ... floods. Seek high lands, Saotome Genma! Seek them!" Then the man's eyes shot open, and he stiffened, unmoving.
"Um," Genma said slowly, frowning. "Well, this is a fine kettle of fish."
He waited a moment longer, but the man wasn't moving. It didn't take a master martial artist to move forward and check for a pulse, though he did anyway.
Nope, the old man had kicked the bucket for that prophecy. "This has to be important," Genma mused, uncertain how it pertained to Ranma and Akane, and more specifically, to getting them together. But it had to mean something.
Still, even he wouldn't just abandon a dead monk. He looked around -- no shovels, no blankets to wrap the man in. Perhaps he could tear down the curtain and use that as a shroud? The thatch would be flammable, which could make for a pyre. He shook his head; he was getting ahead of himself.
First things first, and that meant checking out the other small buildings. He walked, counting his steps to the exit from the old man's body to try and keep his mind off the recent death. Fifty seven, then he was at the doorway. Another thirty took him around the building, and to the next.
But there he froze, features contorting with the effort of concentration. Now, he wasn't a mathematical genius. He focused exclusively on martial arts, just like he'd raised his son to. But how could it be a shorter distance to the rear of the building than from its center?
He strode back uneasily, suspecting the worst. Sure enough, his fears were well founded. The house, once he looked into it, was empty. And cluttered with fallen thatch, the rubble of collapsed stone, ancient and long broken pieces of pottery....
And no old monk. "Oh, great," Genma groused, looking at the sunlight slanting into the building through the holes in the roof. This was not the same structure he had just been inside. Or maybe it was, and the inside was different. Either way, a reputable prophet had turned out to be just that. If not more.
Which in turn meant that whatever the monk had meant, Genma needed to understand it. Still, he couldn't keep his curiosity at bay, so he checked out the other buildings. All of them were just as abandoned, just as clear of anything usable or of value. He was the only person on the spire, and he'd delayed too long. The sun wasn't setting, and wouldn't for a while yet ... but it would be hours to climb down the spire. And what was tiring in the day would become potentially lethal at night.
So he could climb halfway down, and stop, trying to find some suitable place to camp when dark came on him. Or he could try climbing in the dark. Or ... he could wait until morning.
He glanced at the goat irritably. "This is just wonderful," he grumbled. And he still didn't know what the heck the old man was really talking about, anyway!
See other episodes by Sgt. Chibi De`Ohki
(Posted Fri, 13 Apr 2007 03:29)
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