Stable Long Enough By Karlmarks --------------------Notes-------------------- I don't own the rights to Tenchi Muyo; they're property of Pioneer and AIC. What I'm doing is actually technically illegal, but hopefully the good-faith exception applies. The characters of Tenchi, Sasami, Aeka, Noboyuki, Katsuhito/Yosho, and Ryoko, which are used herein, are included under the Tenchi Muyo franchise, as is the existence and specifics of the Juraian royal family. The rest of the ideas and characters presented in this fic are "property" (though no copyright exists) of the author. Linguistically, I've picked a dialect and stuck to it. I don't speak Japanese, so writing this fic in that language is out. I don't really approve of blending Japanese with English in principle, so I've kept that out. I mean, you don't see me walking around throwing Spanish into my everyday conversation, do you? And, unlike most self-styled "otaku" who do that with Japanese, I actually speak el Español with a reasonable degree of fluency. So, the characters herein will speak in American English. Think of it as "the translated universe." The most effective subbing known to humankind, if you will. All time and distances converted to SI (no, that's not Self-Insertion) units, all slang converted to modern "'Merk'n" vernacular, and such. Continuity-wise, I'd say this fits just about in the TV universe. Let's say that Shin Tenchi -- ugh -- never happened, and the TV series ends right before the last five minutes or so of the final episode. Ryoko (and then Aeka and the others) don't return to Earth. In fact, Ryoko's last scene is drifting in space with severe internal injuries. I've employed a bit of poetic license by pegging Sasami at age twelve during the TV series and such, but nothing major is changed beyond what I just mentioned. One more note: this assumes the TV series took place in the year 1997. Try to keep an open mind, okay? --------------------End of notes-------------------- Rain was an anomaly on Tevarleen, but a pleasant one. The climate control system incorporated an element of randomness that the majority of their tourist clientele found enjoyable. It added something of an illusion of a dynamic, changing planet and an air of local charm missing in many of the competing resort planets. Right now it was raining drenching sheets of water in the warm air that on Earth could be called "tropical." One of the many advantages to being born second, Sasami thought, was the vacation time. In fact, her life seemed to consist of nothing but vacation time. A few state dinners and diplomatic figurehead assignments here and there punctuated her leisurely existence, but on the whole there wasn't too much work involved in being Second Princess. Let Aeka have her kingdom and her prestige; Sasami had time for fun. "Nice day, eh?" Rayel commented from inside the suite. Sasami's world jumped back into focus: she could see the rain-spattered land stretch out for kilometers in front of her position on the balcony. Swarms of travelers drifted leisurely across the teal meadows strung with infrequent "native" souvenir shops manufactured by the Bureau of Tourism to add authenticity. Even when one knew, as she did, that the planet was actually a cutthroat, high-tech, capitalism- driven maelstrom of fierce competition for valuable offworld creds, it was still possible to enjoy the experience on a visceral level. "I rather like it," she replied simply. "Besides, it's our last day here. Try and enjoy yourself. You can go out on your own for a while, you know. Irini is perfectly capable." Rayel was only promoted to the Royal Corps last month, and, as was common in new recruits, he entertained fantasies of single- handedly saving Her Majesty from an assassin's strike or such. However, the fact that there hadn't been such an attempt in generations allowed for some degree of relaxation in the stringent discipline of the bodyguard service. If trouble looked at all possible, Lieutenant Irini Verden would have signaled the plainclothes officers spread throughout the hotel as she ran to her post; within a maximum of twenty seconds there would be as many officers massed in the suite, ready to defend Sasami with their lives. This extreme form of protection was necessitated by the fact that Tevarleen was a tourist planet: more people arrived and left every day on average, in fact, than anywhere else in the galaxy. It was impossible to know just who was where and when. Despite the near-total lack of political dissention within the Empire and centuries-long pax imperia, one had to concede at least a token amount of preparedness to appease the possibility of attack. But for now, for Sasami, there was rain, there was beauty, and there was time. Sasami woke with one word in her mind: "Tenchi." She repeated it once and lay silently in her bed. Outside, the primary of the binary-star system Tevarleen was a part of began to brighten the sky from its pale "night" as it rose over the horizon. That year with him, twenty-four years ago, had been, well, wonderful. She laughed softly as she remembered her childhood crush on him. Might as well look him up one of these days. She closed her eyes to catch a few last hours of sleep before the flight departed. *** One year later Tenchi himself couldn't be considered quite as successful in life as Sasami. A worthless job in insurance claims assessment, and a decades-long string of failed relationships were the only trophies he'd acquired in life. Worse still were the many opportunities he'd had to regret how he handled the events of 24 years ago. Last night, for instance. "God, you're just so...afraid! Afraid of commitment," she'd said. That was Rei. Had been Rei, rather. Years of failure, while technically somewhat of a learning experience, weren't so good for a person's self-esteem. If only he could have *acted* back then. Prince of Jurai or space pirate extraordinaire, either one with an incredible woman who was infatuated with him. But no, you couldn't even arrange to meet up with Ryoko after the attack on the Palace. Or even tell Aeka a few simple words. "I'll stay." That's all it would have taken. But you blew it. Oh well, maybe not, try again. He placed his hand on the RNA lock on his apartment door. A flurry of specific thoughts sent the correct impulses to the modified cells in his palm, producing the necessary strings of nucleic acids to open the door. All of this happened in roughly a third of a second. Stepping through the open door, he removed his coat and shoes before proceeding into what passed for a home. The Glorious New Economy had indeed been everything they'd said it would be, and so much more. Small corporations boomed. Computer skills, web design innovations, or, a little later, a degree in Resequencing, let the middle class push to the top of the socioeconomic stratum. Kids with ideas became millionaires. Middle-aged architects were pushed out of business by Creative Design Analytical Machine firms and couldn't afford their kids' college tuition. Everything they'd said it would be. Despite all that millenial-turn talk of "holovision" and the like, not much had changed in TV over the past two decades. Higher resolution, more channels, same pervasively commercialized programs. He fell asleep watching a subbed "Classic Film" of 90s Hollywood. The logo on the soap bar was that of Ventech, but Fight Club was otherwise intact, a rarity these days. The first thing Tenchi saw when he woke up was the message on his Pivar. The wrist-mounted computer made sounds of soft bliss as basked in the pleasure of a successfully received message. "Masaki Shrine. 10 o'clock tonight." Some damn joke. He hadn't talked to Amagasaki in, what was it? -- six years. Married. Lawyer for Venturesoft. Kids? No, that was Kenichi. Apparently Tenchi was missing the punch line. He resolved to ignore the message. And then the TV came on. "Masaki shrine. Midnight." It was the voice of the administrative comp of the apartment complex, nothing unusual. The odd part was the picture: flashes of black and white text seemed to form something...else. It was a vague image, the negative space left between the flashes compiled in his mind. A face. Sasami Jurai. He was running through the woods. Train delayed, time lost, had to get there on time! Branches whipped into his face, pushed back without thought. It was something of a dark and stormy night, actually. Dark, at least, and just enough rain to turn the ground to a slippery mud. But he had to get there on time. All the years of wishing, longing, regretting, all poured into his legs and lungs, all moving as fast as he could to keep him from missing the deadline, missing her. And there she was. "Why don't you come in out of the rain?" Sasami asked. She stood in the doorway of a small . . . spaceship, apparently, though it had nothing of Ryu- oh's elegance, Yagami's sweeping curves, or Ryo-ohki's knife-sharp appearance. It was, Sasami later mentioned, an atmospheric landing pod deployed from the orbiting cruiser. Tenchi stepped through the shimmering air that marked the pod's doorway and met her eyes. "There really wasn't anything to say" would have been the greatest falsehood since the Glove Don't Fit defense. "I, well -- I -- Sasami..." They embraced for a moment. "Well, what've you been up to?" God, that sounded stupid. She's been gone for twenty-four years, in *outer space*, princess of a *planet*, and you ask what she's been up to. "I mean, what's been happening in, well, the rest of the galaxy, I guess?" Oh, brilliant save. Fucking brilliant. "Well, let's see . . . We crushed the Loran Virtual Democracy in the Fourth Insurrection a few years ago, the Syndicate's back on the rise, the usual. Oh yeah--I'm sorry about the message; one of my agents got a little carried away with his whole spy-versus-spy fantasy world." She paused for a moment. "Oh, I suppose you meant about my sister. Well, she's married, assumed the mandate of heaven, all that." Well, what had he expected? Aeka, still wistfully remember Tenchi, had refused to marry, withdrawn from political life, and was pining away, regretting the mistakes of the past? And, for some reason, not going back to *talk to* him? Sometimes knowing doesn't make it hurt any less. They talked for an eternity. It had not been an uneventful twenty years for either of the two, and it was not an uneventful conversation, either. They discussed everything from galactic politics to the time they spent together to the possibility of an afterlife. Finally, Tenchi had brought up the subject of Ryoko. Her body had never been found, but it had been so long the only real possibility was the one neither wanted to speak, the one on the report that closed Ryoko's file in the databanks forever. Missing, presumed dead. And then there was Tenchi's family. It had been one of the last times democracy, courage, patriotism, and the proletariat had come together in a glorious union of political action. Specifically, terrorism. The Return had called for a return to the "good old days" when politics were simple, megacorporations were invincible strongholds against change, the traditional ways were somewhat intact, artisans had no shortage of employment, and Westernization was an alarmist myth. It was odd to see a reactionary group so violent, but old ways never really die. The bombing of '07 was the last convulsion in the death of violent revolution in Japan. It was a homemade job, most likely a basic plastic explosive. One part 98% nitric acid mixed with three parts sulfuric acid in an ice bath. Glycerin, skimmed from the tallow of rendered fat, added slowly and carefully. After adding sawdust to this nitroglycerin mixture, a plastic explosive is formed. One thousand and one handy household uses. Tenchi remembered the heat most of all. A wave of it hit him just as the fact that two of the subway cars were blossoming a beautiful orange registered in his mind. His face hit the ground before he realized he was diving for it, diving for cover. Cool and rough concrete pressed against him as the smooth expanding rush of fire turned into a swirling chaos of debris above his back. When reason reasserted itself, he raised his head to think. All around him, people were standing up, scattering. "Tsubasa!" "Is there nerve gas?" "Nerve gas! Get out!" "My leg!" Then the shouting began in earnest and individual voices were impossible to make out. It was strange really. He knew that there was no way Dad or Grandfather could have survived, but he looked anyway. He helped pull the rubble away, and treat the wounded long after it became clear that there wasn't going to be a grateful reunion, that the last time he would ever see his family had already happened. He went back home that day as if nothing had ever happened. He didn't leave his apartment for three days. "Oh..." Sasami sat silently beside him. A minute passed. Tenchi opened the door and looked outside. The sky was glowing a pale blue, but the sun had yet to come up. "Well," Tenchi said, pausing briefly before finishing, "this might sound stupid, but do you want to go watch the sunrise?" "Yeah. I do." Sasami rose to meet him at the door. They walked out into the dawn. They spent the next two days together. Behind the scenes, Juraian agents quietly set up Tenchi Masaki with a small stock portfolio, manipulated the market, and sold for a sum close to half a million dollars. Tenchi discovered that he didn't miss his job at all. And he and Sasami talked for hours at a time. Right now they were in the "Just Don't Give A Fuck Café," a venue that catered to 90s nostalgia. Apathy, commercialism, and individuality were the main themes. "Well, yeah, as far as we know, the Big Bang theory is correct," Sasami continued, "but what about before that? I mean, there had to have been something, right? Some kind of God or other? Matter can be neither created nor destroyed, so the protomatter had to come from somewhere." She drank the last of her orange liquid and waited. The orange tree had been wiped out as a species three years ago by a retrovirus engineered to impart resistance to a form of blight. Testing standards for such products had become a great deal more stringent after that. Tenchi swallowed the food he was chewing and spoke. "But that's what I've been saying! We don't know *anything* about "before that." Yeah, it could have been God, it could have been someone's dream made manifest, it could have been an interdimensional researcher's fuckup; we don't know! It could have easily been something in another universe that started ours." Sasami started talking as soon as he paused. "But that other universe had to come from somewhere. Somewhere along the line, at the beginning of all those universes, before anything else, there was someone. There had to be someone. Some god." "Another universe could have a totally different type of time," Tenchi countered. "Actually, theirs could have started ours, and ours could have started theirs. One big circle, you know? And it's all closing and opening at the same time, it's all going to end and begin the other, and then the other after that -- this doesn't make very much sense, I suppose," he finished apologetically. "I guess what I'm saying is that nothing has to be infinite, it can all just loop back into itself. Even the universe." Sasami wasn't eating anymore, just waiting for a chance to talk. "But the universe *is* infinite!" she exclaimed. "We know it started somewhere, it has a center, but for all practical purposes it has no edge. We've used FTL sensors, but even those have a limit to their speed, and we've been completely unable to discern any sort of edge, any drop-off point after which there is nothing. If there's no way to observe this Outside, no way to reach it, and it can't exert any effects on the universe, then it doesn't exist. You can't prove it, I suppose; there's no way to prove anything *doesn't* exist, but it--" she stopped as she realized that everyone in the restaurant was looking at their table. Sitting back down, she and Tenchi laughed for a moment before resuming their dinner. "Well, good night, Tenchi," Sasami said, standing in the doorway to the bedroom. She smiled and closed the door. Tenchi went back to the couch in the living room/entry and lay down. It was all happening now, all the parts coming together, everything in a circle, collapsing and expanding and all at once. She was part of his fantasies now, of course, but it was more than that. He wanted to talk to her, and when he was with her there was nothing else. The standard clichés didn't really apply at all. He'd been "in love" before, yes, but this was different. Beautiful, even. Tenchi closed his eyes, but it was hours before he could sleep. Seven hours later he awoke to a familiar buzzing sound. Alarm clocks had remained fairly unchanged over time, and his was no less grating than one of twenty years ago. After stumbling into the tiny bathroom, he threw his clothes off and turned the shower on. He gradually regained full consciousness as the water poured over him in a steady flow. The activities of the next few minutes were, for the first time in years, not the high point in his day. He emerged from the bathroom twenty-five minutes later to find Sasami waiting outside. "Oh! Sorry! I totally forgot you'd be up," Tenchi apologized. "Used to living alone, I guess," he continued. Hopefully that didn't sound as pathetic out loud as it did in his mind. She smiled lopsidedly at him before walking through the door. An hour later they were eating breakfast in the miniscule kitchen of Tenchi's apartment. Tenchi had prepared the meal, as was his strict duty as host under the new cultural system. "The meal" was cereal. Sasami had never tasted cereal before, though, and it was going over fairly well. "Well, like I was saying yesterday, we're sort of split up. It used to be more so -- more dramatic a divide, y'know, but even these days Earth is made up of separate countries with separate societies. It's kind of like having a bunch of different planets in a galaxy, only on a smaller scale. And this box comes from another country, with another culture, and another language. That's why I can't read the box, but you can with your translator implant." The box contained "Corn Flakes," an American cereal. Just then the television activated itself. Tenchi figured out why just before the picture flickered into focus. Modern TVs flickered because of the NLCD technology that had replaced the CRTs of yore. "Transmission from home," Sasami whispered as an aside. A woman with stunning black hair occupied the center of the screen. She looked to be about Tenchi's age, though one never could tell. Hadn't Ryoko been close to 3000? "Time's short, and I can't see or hear you, so I'll make it brief. There's a 'situation'" -- you could hear the quotes in her voice -- "in the Empire. We need you back on Jurai immediately. I'm orbiting in the Raziel; take the drop pod you came in back up for recovery. See you soon!" She smiled brightly for a second before the transmission ended. "Oh, I guess I forgot to tell you," Sasami said, turning to face Tenchi. "That's Tereya. My fiancé." --------------------Final Notes-------------------- Hehe. Bet you didn't see that one coming. Also, and this is important, WRITE TO ME. Tell me what you think. My email is markskarl@hotmail.com . Seriously, just take a few minutes to let me know how I can write better in the future, or just that people are reading my work. Bonus: If you can guess what song I was listening to when the idea for this fic struck me, you get . . . candy or something! Yes, I'm poor. Deal with it. Hint: the title. I know that not too much happens in this fic, and I apologize, but this is basically the exposition for a possible series of interconnected stories. I had to establish the new universe and all. Additionally, one person (Locke) said that maybe this fic should be classified as "lime" because of two brief comments about halfway through it. I didn't really understand why; tell me what you think of that if (preferably "when") you write to me. The names of new ships in my fics are taken from various Earth mythologies, by the way. If you really liked the fic, or any other fic (especially one of mine) tell your friends to read it (I'm not trying to insinuate anything here, but there IS a voting gallery at www.tmffa.com .) If you really hated it, tell your friends to avoid it, or just skip the fancy stuff and torch my house. Also, I may write more stories in this version of the Tenchi Muyo universe, if it sounds like people want to read them. Let me know. Thank you for reading.