It was a scene taken straight from the pages of any war correspondent’s blog. The desperate mother standing alone with two frightened children clinging to her legs, an infant held protectively in her arms and a look of weary defiance on her face. The dark circles below her unfocused gaze gave her the look of someone much older than she really was. Her eyes spoke volumes about the carnage and mayhem they had so recently been witness to.

A group of men in business suits approached and the woman heaved a weary sigh. The men's icy hateful stares bore into the huddled little family, driving the children further into the protective shadow of their mother's skirt. The woman clutched her baby defensively to her breast as she bowed apologetically to the passing group.

Yes, it was a scene right at home in any of the war torn third-world countries around the globe. That it was playing itself out in front of the lady's washroom of the LAX pre-customs waiting area only added to Akane's mounting anger.

"How long does it take to splash some hot water on your face and get back out here?"

"Mom?" Hideto said from his hiding place behind her left knee. "Does everyone in America hate us now?"

"No, sweetheart. America doesn't hate us, but I'm not so sure about the business community in Japan."

No sooner had the jet’s engines revved up for takeoff when Ranko-chan began crying. He continued to cry until they reached cruising altitude, where the flight attendants assured them he would settle down. If anything, reaching forty thousand feet only brought new life to the baby’s wailing.

He cried throughout the dinner service and refused to take his bottle until, in desperation, Ranma went to the lavatory and returned in female form. That would normally have caused quite a stir, but no one was willing to question the presence of someone able to bring quiet to the cabin.

Too bad it lasted all of fifteen minutes. As soon as his bottle was empty Ranko-chan began shrieking again. Many of the nearby passengers actually applauded when Ranma took the baby to the bathroom for a diaper change.

It was in that moment of blessed silence when the twins, heretofore absorbed with the airliner’s extensive collection of old video games, finally got tired of the boring wired controllers and decided to go exploring. Akane didn’t even notice they were missing until she heard a flight attendant scream.

Rushing forward, apologizing to the heads popping out of first class cabins as she ran, Akane searched for her boys. She finally found Masato using a food tray as a surfboard to ride the handrail of the circular staircase between the upper and lower decks of first class.

Elsewhere Hideto had sniffed out a stash of fresh baked cookies from the business class galley and was merrily passing them out to all the children in economy. Like the pied piper, he was soon leading an army of sugar jazzed children on an assault of the first class lounge. Intent on visiting the cockpit, the mob of pre-teens was only halted by the appearance of a redheaded Japanese woman carrying a screaming infant.

And so it went for the entire thirteen hour flight. Ranko-chan continued to cry the whole time. Just when he seemed to be wearing out his eyes flashed to blue and she suddenly seemed find new energy. The twins remained bored and only saw the other passenger’s attempts at sleeping as a further opportunity for exploration. By the time the plane rolled up to the gate in Los Angeles, Akane and Ranma were well beyond the end of their ropes.

The rest of the passengers must have been contemplating what they might do with those ropes. At least that was Akane’s impression from the looks they received coming off the plane. It didn’t help matters one bit when Ranko-chan went to sleep the very second the airplane rolled to a stop.

"Okay," Ranma said while rubbing his hands dry. "I’m ready for customs now."

"What took you so long?" Akane was clearly mad as she thrust Ranko-chan into her husband’s arms.

"The American’s are pretty thorough these days. They sometimes do random body searches and I didn’t want to get caught wearing a bra."

"Well, I certainly wouldn’t want you to be embarrassed, even if your children did have to stand out here the whole time being publicly humiliated."

"You’re exaggerating things, Akane. I know it was bad, but it’s not like everyone on the airplane is mad at us."

"Ranma, have you been watching the people walking by? If looks could kill I’d be introducing you to my mother’s ghost right now."

Just then three more passengers came down the passageway towards them. The two men in business suits shot them withering glances, but the gorgeous Japanese woman with the short cropped hair smiled and nodded as she passed by.

Ranma continued to follow her with his gaze as he said, "See, that woman didn’t look upset."

"Honestly, Ranma!" Akane jabbed a fist into his ribs just hard enough to get his attention without dislodging the baby from his grasp. "This is serious, what are we going to do? We’ll be lucky if they let us back on the plane to go home, much less fly all over the United States with her screaming the whole time."

Ranma massaged his aching ribcage with one hand while clutching the sleeping baby close to his shoulder with the other. "Take it easy, Akane. I’ll think of something."

"Konnichiwa. Pasupooto, onagai shimasu." Ken Philips wasn’t Japanese. He wasn’t Chinese or Korean either, but eleven years with the Emigration Service in Los Angeles had given him the ability to ask for someone’s passport like any Pacific Rim native.

"Good afternoon, officer. I speak English."

Ken looked up and nearly dropped the red jacketed passport the woman had just put in the tray. Tall for a Japanese, she had huge dark eyes rendered all the larger looking by her short black hair. Not for the first time, Ken cursed the thick bulletproof glass separating him from a clearer view of this Asian beauty.

He slipped the passport into the reader and waited for her identity data to appear on his screen. When he saw what it said he did a double take.

"Uh... Detective Kuromaki? Are you here for business or pleasure?"

"I’m on assignment, if that’s what you mean."

"Yes... of course... that’s what I meant." Ken couldn’t help thinking this was the sexiest woman he’d ever let into the country. And he’d checked through a lot of celebrities in his day. "Please stand with your toes on the blue line and place your right hand on the scanner. We’ll have your biometric data confirmed in just a moment."

"Certainly. Can you tell me where to pick up my special bags?"

"Huh? Oh, are you bringing in weapons? You’ll need to go to the FBI field office after you’ve picked up your other luggage. Just ask any TSA officer at baggage claim how to get there."

"Thank you," Kuromaki said after retrieving her passport. "Oh yes. There will be a rather haggard looking Japanese family coming through the business class line soon. I would consider it a personal favor if you made sure they didn’t leave the airport until I’ve finished with the FBI."

Ken swallowed hard and twisted his wedding band nervously under the counter. "Uh... sure thing, detective, take your time."

"You see, Akane," Ranma said as he piled their bags on a luggage cart. "I told you they sometimes do random body searches, happens all the time. Nothing to be ashamed of really, so just get over it already."

"Doesn’t it bother you in the least that your wife was just strip searched by a six foot tall black woman with ice cold hands?"

"She was wearing rubber gloves, wasn’t she?"

"That’s not the point, Ranma... Hideto, where’s your brother?"

"I’m right here, mom." Masato was just rounding the corner on the luggage conveyor. "Did you know there are people speaking Spanish on the other side of the wall?"

"Masato! Get off of that thing this instant!"

"Calm down, Akane. Come on, kiddo," Ranma said as he pulled his son off the conveyor and dropped him on the cart with the other baggage. "This isn’t an amusement park ride."

"Daddy, there’s someone over there holding a sign with our name on it." Hideto pointed to the crowds just beyond the security exit.

"That’ll be the limo driver." Ranma hoisted the last of their bags onto the cart while Akane pulled Masato off of it by his ear.

"But it’s a girl!"

"Women can drive cars just as well as men do," Akane scolded. She didn’t want her boys growing up with the typical Japanese male’s chauvinism, but secretly she would have been happier if the driver had been a man.

"There’s a man in a suit waving at us too." Hideto started to wave his arm in the air only to have Akane grab it.

"Stop that! You have no idea who that man is. This is America, we have to be careful."

"Hey, it’s Jeff and his assistant Kelly!" Ranma waved his arm and began pushing the cart toward the exit.

Akane looked down at the twins and blushed. "Hey guys, I know I’m overreacting a little, but you really do need to be more careful about talking to strangers over here. Okay?"

"Okay, mom!" The twins shouted in unison and then raced off after their father.

Akane stroked Ranko-chan’s soft red hair. "I guess I owe you an apology too, sweetheart." She kissed her daughter on the top of the head and fell into step behind Ranma and the boys.

By the time she caught up with them Ranma was shaking Jeff’s hand vigorously and speaking to him in English. "Why you come here? All we need is driver."

"And miss out on the chance to be the first man in America to meet the next generation of Saotomes? No way!"

"Well here they are. This my son Masato and this Hideto. Boys, this Jeffu, my partner in America."

The boys bowed formally to the tall man, but he quickly stopped them. "No, no, no. None of that bowing stuff over here unless you’re in a dojo. You don’t want people thinking you’re un-cool."

The boys looked first to their father, who nodded his approval, and then to their mother who just shrugged her shoulders. They looked back at Jeff with smiles on their faces.

The big man knelt down and held up his right hand, thumb and pinky finger extended while the others were curled against his palm. Jeff rocked his hand from side to side and said, "Welcome to America, dudes!"

The twins looked at one another and giggled. They mimicked Jeff’s hand signal while chanting in unison, "Okay, dude!"

Ranma shook his head and turned to the pretty redhead standing beside Jeff. In Japanese he said, "Good afternoon, Kelly-san. Please meet my sons. Boys, this is Jeff’s assistant, Kelly."

In nearly flawless Japanese the redhead said, "It is a pleasure to meet you Maseto-kun and Hideto-kun. Let’s be kind to one another." Kelly bowed low to the boys and their jaws dropped.

"Are you Japanese?" Masato asked in awe.

"You’ve got red hair just like dad..." Hideto was cut short by his brother.

"He means like Aunt Ranko." Masato said while giving the younger twin a smug look.

Kelly just smiled and shook her head. "My family is Irish. I just learned Japanese recently."

Then she looked up at Ranma and Akane couldn’t miss the twinkle in the young woman’s eyes... she knew who Ranko really was! Kelly was every bit as sharp as Ranma said she was and Akane smiled in appreciation of the girl’s discretion. "You speak our language very well. You must have studied very hard."

"You flatter me, Saotome-sama." Kelley bowed again. "I am not very good at all."

Akane returned the bow by nodding her head, careful not to let Ranko-chan shift too much and wake up. "You also understand Japanese etiquette. You are a rare treasure, Kelly-san. Please call me Akane."

"Would somebody please start speaking English again?" Jeff shouted in mock frustration. "I feel like I’m the one who just got off the plane. This is Los Angeles, people."

"Sorry, Jeff," Akane said switching to English. "It’s just so nice to hear a friendly Japanese voice after all we’ve been through."

"Oh?" Jeff’s face suddenly fell into seriousness. "Rough flight?"

Five blank Asian faces stared back at him, two exhausted adults and two identically guilty little ones. The fifth yawned innocently in Akane’s arms. Nobody spoke for several awkward moments.

"Um... well, we have small problem in flight." Ranma said with a sidelong glance at his wife.

"What he means, Jeff," Akane said with a sigh, "is Ranko-chan cried all the way from Tokyo."

"Is she all right? Was she sick or something?"

"Ranko-chan fine," Ranma said pulling the blanket away from the baby’s face so the Americans could get their first good look at her.

"She doesn’t like the sound of the engines. We tried everything. Ranma even..." Akane glanced at Kelly, who nodded knowingly. "Even Ranko-chan’s mother couldn’t stop her from crying. I don’t know what we’re going to do, Jeff. We can’t go flying all over the country with her like this. We’ll be banned from every airline for sure."

"It can’t be as bad as all that. I’ve been on planes with crying babies before. People don’t like it, but you don’t get banned from flying for..."

Jeff stopped talking when he saw the twins’ faces. They looked like two condemned prisoners about to hear the judge sentence them to life.

"We have... other problem too," Ranma said sternly.

"Oh, I see." Jeff stared down at the boys and tried not to laugh as he saw the mischievous looks they were giving him even as they bowed in shame. "Well, I’m sure we can figure something out. Maybe we can hire a private jet."

"Trip already cost too much, Jeffu. We here to make dojo profitable again, not to spend money on private jet."

Jeff looked at Kelly who shrugged her shoulders. "We’ll think of something, but right now you guys look exhausted. Let’s get you settled into the hotel and we can put our heads together later. The first demo is day after tomorrow in Seattle and I need the Master here to be bright eyed and full of energy by then."

He crouched down and pointed to the boys. "That includes you two as well. I’ve got tickets for a Mariner’s game against Los Angeles and I need you guys to help me root for the home team. Think you can handle that?"

"Yeah!" the twins shouted together.

Jeff grinned and straightened up. "I’ll go bring the van around. You guys don’t mind riding in one of the company buses, do you?"

"That fine, Jeffu. I go with you. Akane, you mind staying here and watch luggage?"

"No, go ahead. Take the boys with you so they don’t get bored again."

When all the men were gone, Akane turned to Kelly and asked in Japanese, "So, how long have you known about Ranma’s curse?"

"Since the first trip I booked for him. Both he and Ranko-sama appeared at the demo, but only one of them flew in from Japan. I didn’t learn about the cold water until several months later."

"How come you never told him you know about it?"

Kelly smiled demurely and said "Saotome Ranma-sama never asked me."

Akane grinned. "Are you sure you’re not Japanese?"

The two women laughed and Ranko-chan came alive in Akane’s arms. She opened her eyes and blinked at the bright lights of the terminal building. Kelly leaned over for a closer look and the baby reached out toward the redhead.

Kelly shook her head and rubbed Ranko-chan under the chin. "Oh no, don’t let the hair fool you. I’m not your mama." Then looking up at Akane she said, "It’s hard to believe such a sweet little baby could cause such a commotion."

"She has her moments, but generally she’s not at all fussy. She doesn’t mind riding on the train or in the car. It’s just airplanes that seem to upset her."

"She likes to ride in the car?"

"Oh yes. On those nights when she just won’t go to sleep, Ranma takes her for a ride in the van and she falls right off."

"Really?" Kelly said switching to English and straightening up. "Have you ever taken her on a long car trip?"

"Well, some nights Ranma doesn’t come back until daybreak. He says she starts crying whenever he stops at a traffic light, so he gets on one of the expressways and just drives out into the countryside."

"You know," Kelly’s eyes were alight with a playful expression. "There might just be a way to salvage this trip for you after all."

"Really?"

Ranma knew he was being a killjoy, but he couldn’t help it. Here he sat in the visiting owner’s skybox of Safeco Field watching a reasonable well matched baseball game between the two major league teams with the most Japanese players on them and yet he couldn’t stop worrying. Meanwhile, two rows in front of him, Jeff and the boys were having a great time.

Jeff suddenly stood up, leaned out the open window and shouted down at the field, "Knock it out of the park, Nakajima!"

Masato and Hideto stood up too and began chanting, "Fighto! Fighto! Fighto!"

Ranma doubted any of that could be heard down on the field, but seconds later there was the crack of a bat squarely hitting a baseball and the combined cheers and groans of the home crowd watching a Dodger homerun sail over the fence.

"Yeah!" Jeff shouted as he held out his hands palms up to receive two victory slaps from the boys. Ranma wondered at the quick turnaround in his sons’ team affiliations. At home they were staunch Mariners fans, but Jeff had quickly converted them to the Dodgers camp. The pre-game meet-and-greet with the whole team had gone a long way towards their conversion he was sure.

"Did you see that, Ranma? We’re up by two runs and the top of the batting order’s on deck."

Ranma smiled and gave his friend a thumbs-up. Jeff had almost stopped trying to get him involved in the game around the fifth inning, but it wasn‘t in the big man’s nature to give up entirely. Ranma took the opportunity to glance at his wristwatch, it was now ten hours and twenty-three minutes since he’d last held Ranko-chan and there was probably another five hours or so to go before he would see his baby again.

The day started early when Jeff picked him and the boys up at the hotel before dawn. The flight up to Seattle was quick and uneventful, something Ranma thanked the gods for. While the turnout for the demo hadn’t been large, maybe two hundred people tops, it was mostly kids and Ranma always enjoyed performing for children more than anything.

He’d gotten the twins into the act by letting them show off some of the aerial combat techniques he’d been teaching them for the last few months. They’d become instant celebrities and when he went off to meet with some of the new franchise owners from Washington and Oregon, the boys organized a game of martial arts tag that had boys and girls bouncing off the dojo walls for an hour.

It felt good to be using his skills again and for a while thoughts of Ranko-chan and the problems they’d had on the flight were pushed out of his mind. But when the meetings were over and the boys corralled back into a limo for the ride to the ballpark his thoughts turned to his little girl and what they were going to do with her for the next four weeks. Akane had offered to stay with her in Los Angeles, but Ranma knew he’d never be able to finish the tour without both of his girls along.

Damn his female half anyway! He should be watching this game, enjoying the time with his boys, bonding with his good friend who he hadn’t seen for a year, but instead he was suffering separation anxiety welling up from the woman deep within himself.

"She needs you," the redhead chided him. "You’re Ranko-chan’s mother."

"No I’m not. You are, so leave me alone."

"Can’t happen, big guy. This isn’t a split personality disorder. You embraced being a woman, now you’re stuck with it." He could practically hear her giggling in his head. "Mama no baka."

Ranma closed his eyes and tried to wash those thoughts from his brain. "Get your mind off of womanly things, Saotome. Think about baseball, two teams of manly men facing each other in manly competition..."

"The ace pitcher of the Atlanta Braves is a woman you know."

"Chikusho!"

The twins looked up at their father with wide eyes. He waved them off with a gesture that said, ‘You didn’t hear daddy say that and don’t tell your mother I did.’ They grinned at him and turned back to the game. He really needed to relax, get a grip and deal with this in some way more productive than arguing with himself.

"Excuse me, Mr. Saotome?"

Ranma looked over at the man sitting to his right. They’d been introduced earlier, but all he could remember was the man worked for Google and somehow represented the owners of the Dodgers.

"I couldn’t help noticing you’re a bit distracted and that you were trying to use your phone earlier. I’m sorry they don’t work so well up here, it’s not our stadium you see, but if you need to make a phone call there’s a communications center just behind the press box. Tell them you’re with us and they can put you through to anyone."

"Oh no, that okay..." then he thought about it for a second. What would it hurt to just call Akane and make sure everything was all right? By the time they got home Ranko-chan would probably be asleep. He wouldn’t want to wake her up because she’d just started sleeping through the night. "Well, if you not mind."

"Of course not, Mr. Saotome, please help yourself."

Akane had made plans to go shopping with Kelly. If he couldn’t get through to the rental phone his wife was carrying, he’d surely be able to reach Jeff’s assistant. He stood up and reached forward to tap Jeff on the shoulder.

"Jeffu, I go make phone call. You need tell Kelly anything?"

"No boss," the blonde American said with a big game winning smile on his face. "It’s her day off. Besides I can never ‘tell’ Kelly anything, she always knows about it before I do."

Ranma chuckled and headed for the door. Outside in the cavernous passageway behind the stands he turned left towards the Press Box they’d been shown through before the game. As the man from Google had promised, just a short way down from that was a door marked ‘Media Communications, Authorized Personnel Only’. He pressed the button on the intercom mounted next to the door and waited.

The door opened a few seconds later and a young man with long curly hair and a baseball cap with ‘ESPN’ printed in red across the front stuck out his head.

"Yes? The bathrooms are down the other way."

"Not need bathroom, need telephone. Man from Google say..."

"Holy crap!" No sooner had Ranma begun to speak when the young man shouted and let the door slam in his face. Ranma winced. He knew Americans could be rude at times, but this was worse than most times. He was contemplating whether to ring the bell again and complain or just go back to the skybox and forget about calling Akane when the door opened again.

"I swear it’s him, Mr. Eckles. Looks just like his sister too, right down to the silk shirt and black pants. See..."

"Then why didn’t you invite him in, you moron?"

Pushing his way past the curly haired kid was a familiar looking middle-aged man in a black leather jacket with the word ‘Director’ stitched on the breast pocket. It took Ranma only a few seconds to recognize the television director who’d interviewed him last year in New York. It took a few more seconds for him to realize he wasn’t supposed to know who the guy was.

"I apologize for my assistant," the man said extending his hand towards Ranma in greeting. "Are you Ranko Saotome’s brother?"

"Yes, Ranma Saotome. You are?" He suppressed a grin as he took the man’s hand. They’d spent nearly two hours together in New York, but at the time Ranma had been wearing a slinky red cocktail dress, heels, makeup and was eight weeks pregnant. The interview they taped that night had been responsible for making Anything Goes Martial Arts a household name in America for the few short weeks it aired on cable sports channels.

"I’m Jack Eckles. I interviewed your sister last year. Perhaps you had a chance to see it?"

"Oh yes, Ranko send file. I watch on sat-phone in Nepal." Ranma was becoming quite adept at explaining his eighteen month absence from the world while his female half was pregnant with Ranko-chan. "Thank you for kindness to my sister."

"It was my pleasure. Is your sister with you?" The man looked over Ranma’s shoulder as if he expected to see the petite redhead standing somewhere just down the hallway.

"Ranko... not in Seattle. I here with sons to give demo and come to ballgame."

"A demo? Here in Seattle, when?"

"Already do this afternoon. Fly back to LA tonight then San Diego tomorrow."

"Oh, so you’re not just visiting?"

"No, give demos all over America. At least that was plan."

"Then you’re on tour? Um... I’d love a chance to interview you about it. If you don’t mind my asking, what time is your flight?"

"Interview for sport news?" That would certainly be good publicity for the company. "Flight this evening, I might have time."

"Great! I can squeeze you in while I’m waiting for the player interviews. How can I find you after the game?"

"In Dodger skybox. Look for little twin boys. I weary looking parent sit nearby."

The other man chuckled and then turned back to his assistant. "Eddie, didn’t your resume say something about an internship with Tokyo Broadcasting?"

"Yes, sir!" the young man acknowledged with obvious pride.

"Then you ought to know the proper way to apologize to Mr. Saotome here. Once you’re done groveling, head down and tell Murphy to set up somewhere other than the locker room. I want this to look like it was filmed earlier in the day, so find someplace indoors. He’s wearing red so we can chromakey some window light on the backdrop. Don’t just stand there, move it!"

The director waved and headed back into the communications center. He acted like a very busy man, but Ranma wondered why he wasn’t down in the television trucks. "Why Mr. Eckles not directing baseball game?"

Eddie looked like he couldn’t decide whether to simply bow to Ranma or actually get down on all fours the way his boss probably expected him to. Ranma’s question gave him a way out of doing either one.

"Oh, Jack’s not the director of this game. He’s producer of ‘Nightly Sports Wrap-up’, the number one sports news show on cable. He spends most of the game up here in the Comm center talking to camera crews at other games all over the country. Then after the game we move out to the trailer to interview the MVP."

"Really? Why you think he want interview me? So much baseball this time of year I think he too busy for martial arts story."

"Are you kidding? There’s been nothing to air but baseball since June. By August everyone around here is sick of it. Jack’d sell his mother for something out of the ordinary right now. Why do you think your sister’s story was so big this time last year?"

Ranma hadn’t thought about it before. The attention focused on his foiling of an armed robbery had seemed way out of proportion at the time, but he’d been too caught up in the media frenzy to wonder why. "I see, my story standout even if not really news. We help each other out that way. Oh, I come here to make phone call. Is okay?"

"A phone call? Sure! We’ve got nothing but phones in here. Just find any empty cube and dial nine for an outside line." The young man held the door and stepped aside to let Ranma through.

"Thank you very much. You very helpful, but I give one piece of advice?"

"Oh sure, Mr. Saotome! What’s that?"

"When boss tell you apologize someone, do first thing. Otherwise client pissed off and you end up apologize boss because he not get interview he want. Understand?"

The blood drained from the kid’s face and he swallowed hard. That thought sunk in for a moment and then he fell to his knees, hands on the floor repeating over and over again in badly accented Japanese, "I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m..."

Ranma grinned before turning away. He wished young Japanese were that willing to apologize. Not that his generation had been much better at it, but these days the average kid in Tokyo could be downright rude and get away with it. Thank goodness his boys, as rambunctious as they were, knew how to be polite. Something his mother had a major hand in bringing about.

The communications center was a large room broken up into a couple of dozen individual workspaces by chest high walls. He walked past several cubes occupied by reporters watching the game on monitors and talking into phone handsets. One of the reporters had replaced the handset with headphones and a professional looking microphone.

Ranma found an empty cube and sat down at the small desk. He raised an eyebrow at the monitor showing the game statistics. Not only had the Dodgers failed to add to their lead at the top of the inning, the Mariners now had the bases loaded with only one out.

He took out his cell phone and used it to look up the number before he dialed. Akane picked up on the second ring.

"Hi, sweetheart! Is the game over already?"

"No, bottom of eight inning. Dodger’s up by two, but could be in trouble. Pitcher look tired, giving up many bases. Game could go either way."

"Ranma, what’s wrong?"

"Nothing wrong. Why you always think something wrong?"

"Because you’d never leave a close game in the eighth inning to make a phone call unless something terrible had happened."

"Nothing terrible happen. Just want to know you and Ranko-chan okay."

"We’re fine, Ranma. Ranko-chan’s body clock is still on Tokyo time, so she’s been asleep all day. She got a little fussy when it was time to feed her, but nothing I couldn’t handle. Seriously, that’s what you called for?"

"Well..." Now he was beginning to feel foolish. He should have known the baby would be sleeping all day. After all she’d been awake most of the night. Ranma was used to jetlag and usually didn’t even notice the effects. The boys seemed to be able to sleep anywhere and anytime. Only Akane had mentioned not being able to get to sleep and she’d stayed up with the baby to compensate.

"Well?"

"No, I have other reason. ESPN interview me again. Good publicity for tour if we ever figure out how to get around."

"Oh, Kelly has that all figured out! She was telling me about it today while we were pushing Ranko-chan around the mall. Like we figured the trains in America are nothing like those back home, so they really aren’t an option. When she told me what she had in mind I didn’t think it would work either, but we rented some old movies and it looks fun."

"Movies? What movies?"

"One called ‘Little Miss Sunshine’ and another called ‘National Lampoon’s Vacation’. They’re very funny."

"Never see them. What movies have to do with tour?"

"They’re about families who take a driving trip across America. Kelly says it used to be popular for whole families to get in the car and be gone for weeks. Then gas prices went above five dollars a gallon and people just stopped doing it."

"Cost fortune in tolls, Akane. More expensive than private jet!"

"No, silly, Kelly says most American highways don’t have tolls. That’s why they’re called freeways. She has the whole thing budgeted out and it won’t cost us much more than if we flew on commercial airlines. And this way the boys and I can see America close up rather than from thirty thousand feet. What do you say, Ranma? It’s that or Ranko-chan and I stay behind."

"I not know, Akane. All Japan only little bigger than California, America is very big place. I have to think about this."

"Well don’t think about it so much that you miss the end of the game. Kelly’s already looking for a rental car and today I bought a car seat for the baby and boosters for the boys. This is the only answer, Ranma. Trust me, it’ll be fun."

A dark blue Highlander rolled silently down Wilshire Boulevard, its four-wheel hybrid electric motors humming from power it stored up during the drive down from Encino. Considered the last of a dying breed, the Highlander had survived rising gas prices to become one of the few remaining SUVs on the American market, mostly due to its early adoption of hybrid technology.

Now considered a luxury vehicle because of its poor forty mile per gallon mileage rating, in recent years Toyota had lavished its most sophisticated technology on the once utilitarian soccer mom staple. The owner of this particular model, California Celebrity Rentals, had spared no expense to make it the ultimate in comfort and safety.

Special Kevlar door panels rendered it virtually bulletproof. Adjustable liquid crystal window tinting would hide the identity of its occupants under any lighting condition. The advanced navigation system was second to none in accuracy and real-time road condition reporting. And all of its special features were under the control of Toyota’s state-of-the-art Anthromorphic Driver Assistance Module. However, none of these things actually mattered to the Saotome family who was leasing the vehicle for the entire month of August.

Waiting under the canopy at the back of the Beverley Wilshire Hotel in the early afternoon heat, Ranma worried more about getting all of their luggage into the car. Akane worried if there would be enough room on the back seat for all three of the children. Hideto and Masato’s only worry centered on their Japanese game DVDs playing properly on the seat back monitors. And as far as anyone could tell Ranko-chan wasn’t worried about anything. Still mostly on Tokyo time she was, as usual for this time of the night there, sound asleep.

Ranma and Akane knew their fears about the car being big enough for them were unfounded the moment the SUV pulled in off of William Morris Place and came to a stop in front of them.

"It’s huge," Akane whispered in wonder, "so much bigger than our van back home."

"Well this is America, everything bigger here."

The doors opened and two young men in matching maroon jogging suits jumped out. While one headed to the rear of the SUV to help the doorman load the luggage, the other approached Ranma with a clipboard. "Good afternoon. You must be Mr. and Mrs. Saotome. My name’s Eric. Here’s your vehicle, the infant and booster seats have already been installed as you requested. If I can just get you to sign these forms we can go over some of the features..."

"No need demo," Ranma said as he took the clipboard and pen Eric was offering him. "We have car just like this back home."

"Ranma," Akane whispered in Japanese. "Our van is five years old and looks nothing like this thing!"

"Akane, do you think Toyota became the world’s largest automaker by building different models for every country? Trust me. This, whatever it is, drives just like our Harrier back home except the steering wheel is on the wrong side."

Akane rolled her eyes skyward. Ignoring her, Ranma signed the paperwork and returned the clipboard to the confused looking young man. "Not need demo."

"Are you sure, Mr. Saotome? It won’t take more than a few minutes."

Ranma waved his hand nonchalantly at the young man as he wandered off to look over the car from stem to stern. Eric shrugged and turned to Akane. "How about you, ma’am?"

"You better show me how the video system in the backseat works. He can waste all the time he wants figuring out how to drive this thing, but if the boys can’t get their games to play we’re all in big trouble."

Looking much relieved the young man opened the back door and proceeded to show her how to use the A/V system. At the back of the SUV the other young man from the rental company was just pulling the last suitcase off the hotel’s baggage cart as Ranma walked up.

"Were rest of luggage?"

"It’s all packed, Mr. Saotome. The Highlander has an amazing carrying capacity when the third row of seats is removed."

"Oh, I see." Ranma looked inside at the sea of suitcases and realized they were all there with room to spare. Even all of the baby things neatly fit into the huge compartment. "All look very good. Thank you."

"No problem, Mr Saotome. Enjoy your trip."

Once Ranko-chan was settled into the car seat at the center of the backseat and the twins were strapped into booster seats on either side of her, Ranma walked up to the two young men and held out his hand. They looked at one another uncomfortably and then stared back at Ranma. He knew holding out your hand meant you wanted the car keys in America, he’d seen it done many times in Hollywood movies. Then he remembered something else and snapped his fingers.

"Oh, very sorry, I forget tip." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a couple of twenty dollar bills. After handing one to each young man he once again held out his own hand.

Eric looked at the paltry tip and shook his head in amusement. "Mr. Saotome, this car doesn’t have keys. Just introduce yourself and have a nice vacation." With that the two men turned around and disappeared into the hotel.

"What was that all about?" Akane asked.

"I think tip in California should be bigger than tip in New York. Let’s go."

Akane climbed into the passenger seat while Ranma walked around to the driver’s door. Once inside with his seatbelt fastened he began looking for a way to start the engine, but before he could find anything even remotely resembling a switch the navigation panel in the center of the console lit up. Written across it in red block letters was: "A.D.A.M."

"Good afternoon!" The bright cheerful voice seemed to emanate from every corner of the car. "Are you registered driver number one or number two?"

Ranma looked at Akane and she stared back at him. The voice sounded too natural and inflected with an American accent to be a simple recording. Reflexively they began looking around the car for the source of the sound. In the backseat Hideto broke the silence.

"Who you talking to, mister?"

"I’m addressing the person sitting in the driver’s seat of course."

"That’s you, dad," Masato said with a grin.

"I know that me," Ranma said as he searched the dashboard for a camera or microphone. He finally gave up and just spoke out loud. "You from rental company?"

"Well, sort of. I’m part of the vehicle actually. I’m the A.D.A.M. unit, but you can just call me Adam if you like. What’s your name?"

"Ranma Saotome," he said with a shrug to Akane.

"Very good, that matches registered driver number one. Please read the text now appearing on the navigational console while holding your right thumb over the blinking scanner."

Ranma squinted at the small text which popped up on the screen. It looked like part of a standard car rental agreement. He placed his thumb over the flashing blue circle just below the screen and started reading.

"My name is Ranma Saotome, I am between twenty-five and eighty years of age and I hold a valid drivers license from my country of residence. I have never been convicted of a felony in the state of California, I am not a member of any terrorist organization as defined by the Department of Homeland Security and my valid credit card is on file with California Celebrity Rentals, Inc."

"Excellent, Mr. Saotome! May I call you Ranma?"

"Who are you?" Ranma shouted at the dashboard in frustration. "You call on car phone or something?"

"I thought we settled that already, Mr. Saotome. I’m Adam. I’m your rental car."

"You’re the car?" Akane asked stunned.

"Yes miss. I’m a Toyota Highlander with the Anthromorphic Driver Assistance Module, or Adam for short. I control all of the auto’s functions and I’m here to help make your driving experience as pleasant and carefree as possible."

"Our car’s a Gundam?" Masato chimed in excitedly from the back seat.

"No dummy, a Gundam needs a pilot," Hideto chided.

"That’s what daddy is, you baka." Masato reached across Ranko-chan to take a swipe at his brother.

"Quiet you two," Akane cut the twins off before they could get too wound up. "Ranma, did Jeff tell you about any of this when he rented the car for us?"

"No, he just say this easiest car to drive and big enough for whole family."

"Well what do we do now? Do you have any idea how to program this thing?"

"I don’t need to be programmed," Adam responded confidently. "Just tell me were we’re going."

Ranma shrugged and said incredulously, "Bellagio Hotel, Las Vegas."

After a few seconds a map appeared on the center console and Adam’s cheerful voice reverberated through the car again, "Okay, Mr. Saotome, put me in drive, take a right then right again on Wilshire and we’re off to Las Vegas!"

It took Ranma less than one hour with the world’s most sophisticated consumer GPS to get completely lost in Los Angeles. His troubles began when Adam told him to turn left on Doheny and he turned right on Oakhurst instead. Time after time the world’s greatest martial artist made the wrong turns until finally they found themselves on an expressway heading east.

"Take the exit onto Interstate Five in two miles." Adam said in an encouraging voice.

Stony faced, Ranma continued driving down the middle lane and Akane looked over at him expectantly. So far she’d managed to hold he tongue, but her patience was wearing dangerously thin. "Did you hear that, Ranma? There’s an exit up ahead."

"I hear fine," he said while continuing to drive straight.

"Well, aren’t you at least going to get over into the other lane?"

Abruptly the big SUV swerved to the left, entering the HOV lanes.

"Ranma, what are you doing? All the exits are on the right."

Again the car swerved, this time crossing all six lanes at once before heading down an exit ramp.

"This isn’t the exit," Akane said with an exasperated sigh.

"Is exit! Car say exit in two kilometer, we go two kilometer, we exit."

"No, he said two miles, not two kilometers. They don’t use the metric system over here."

Ignoring the huge green sign telling him he could reenter the expressway just by going straight, Ranma turned left. They headed under the highway overpass emerging into a rundown section of East L.A. consisting mainly of empty warehouses and shabby little homes.

"Honestly, if I’d wanted to get this lost I’d have married Ryouga."

Ranma suddenly pulled into what appeared to be an abandoned gas station, braked to a stop and shifted into park.

"This fueling center appears to be closed for business," Adam said helpfully. "There’s another one six point two miles to the east that is open and has reasonably priced fuel."

Ignoring the overly cheerful computer Ranma unbuckled his seatbelt and turned to check on the children. The boys were so thoroughly engrossed in their games they probably hadn’t even noticed he’d stopped the car. Ranko-chan lay asleep in her car seat with her tiny mouth open, her snores barely audible over the muffled sound of gunfire and explosions coming from the twins’ headphones.

"Ranma, what on Earth..." Akane began to say, but her husband held up his hand to silence her.

"Outside, Akane, now."

"I wouldn’t recommend that, Mr. Saotome. This area has been flagged as..."

"You - shut - up!" Ranma hissed as he pounded the dashboard next to the navigation screen. Then he threw open the door and jumped out of the car.

Akane reached for the door handle and reluctantly pushed it open. This wasn’t going to be pretty. Ranma was clearly so pissed off he didn’t want the children to hear him yelling at her. "I should never have compared him to Ryouga," she thought.

She met up with him at the back of the SUV. "Ranma, I’m sorry I said that, but why won’t you just admit you can’t understand English well enough to know what Adam is saying?"

"I understand English fine. That thing not speak proper English! It talk too fast."

"Adam is most certainly speaking proper English. I can understand everything he says. But maybe there’s some way to make him slow down a little."

"Maybe some way make it shut up! Like rip out speakers?"

"We’re never going to make it across the country without a GPS, so you’ll just have to get used to him."

"Him, him, him. You make like it someone real. It only a car, Akane!" Ranma kicked at the rear bumper as if to prove the car had no feelings.

"That’s great," Akane said with a frown. "Put a dent in the rental car before we’ve even had it a day."

While they continued to argue, two men watched them from an alley across the street. Both were young, well muscled and dressed in baggy shorts, white t-shirts and a red bandana tied across their foreheads hachimaki style.

"What’a you think of that, Ricky?" said the tall lanky man with dark chocolate colored skin.

"Looks good, Clyde." His olive skinned companion crouched down and pulled at the goatee on his chin. "Custom wheels, competition brakes, aftermarket chrome and that metal flake ain’t factory paint. With all that tint I gotta think the inside’s tricked out even more."

"Those chinks look like they own half the Seven Elevens in Watts. How’s about we help ‘em spread the wealth around the hood?" The black man reached into a big pocket on his pants leg and pulled out a pistol. Rubbing its chromed barrel against his stubbled cheek he said, "I’ll grab the bling. You nab the ride."

By now Ranma had switched to Japanese in frustration. "I didn’t go the university to learn how to speak English like Shakespeare you know."

"Neither did I you big dummy. You were the only reason I stayed in school after Kasumi got into Tokyo University. All I wanted to do was go back home, run the dojo and take care of daddy. But you were so focused on getting a business degree I couldn’t just leave you there alone."

"What do you mean you didn’t want to finish college?" Ranma looked shocked. "Why haven‘t I heard about this before?"

"Because I thought you knew it already. I should have known better."

"Akane I never..."

Ranma was cut short by an overly theatrical stage cough. He turned around slowly to find a tall black man with tattoos covering both arms towering over him. He wasn’t even on his guard until the hazy smog defused sunlight glinted off the man’s gun.

"You speaky English, chink?" Clyde barely finished saying this before the gun disappeared from his hand and reappeared dangling from Ranma’s index finger.

"Gun not necessary. I understand just fine without."

Clyde chuckled nervously then reached into another pocket and pulled out a switchblade knife. He flicked it open and rubbed the long thin blade across his cheek.

"So you gots that kung fu shit, eh Chinaman?"

Ranma dropped the pistol. Before it hit the ground he tapped it underneath the van with a flick of his left foot. Crossing then recrossing his wrists, he dropped lightly into his fighting stance.

"Not Chinese, not kung fu, not waste time on your shit."

While this was going on Ricky slipped up on the SUV from the front and climbed into the driver’s seat unnoticed by the either Ranma or Akane. He smiled as he felt the quality of the leather seats and scanned the dashboard full of advanced electronics. This was going to be quite a haul as soon as he hot wired the ignition switch.

"Good afternoon! Are you registered driver number two?"

"What?" He looked up at the sound of the cheery voice booming through the car. He started to turn and look for someone sitting in the backseat, but instead felt something tapping on his left shoulder. Turning that way he looked directly into the smiling face of a cute little Asian boy.

"Chigau!" Masato screamed into his face, but the foot that slammed into the back of his skull belonged to Hideto who had leapt into the passenger seat after his brother’s diversion. The force of the blow sent the man’s face smashing painfully into the bulletproof driver’s door window.

Seeing nothing but stars, the would-be car thief tried to turn and face his attacker by pulling himself upright on the steering wheel. This only served to set him up for Masato’s flying drop kick as a second Saotome twin vaulted the headrest. The bridge of Ricky’s nose broke audibly as it slammed into the wheel, then his head slid down to impact a second time on the airbag cover with more than enough force to sound the car horn.

"Aw, Nii-chan!" Hideto whined. "Why’d you do that, now mama’s gonna spoil our fun."

"Mama?" Groggy and disoriented, Ricky groaned out the only word he recognized from the string of Japanese. Instantly the driver’s door flew open and he turned reflexively to face a new threat. Two small hands appeared out of nowhere and clamped themselves around his ears.

Bracing herself against the doorframe Akane hauled the big man out of the car. Dropping to the pavement and rolling backwards she planted her feet on his chest and launched him thirty feet across the parking lot into a bus shelter. The glass wall of the shelter exploded as his body crashed through it. Dazed, Ricky managed to stager to his feet, take two steps and then collapsed amid a sea of green glass pellets.

The stand off between Ranma and the other man lasted only until the car horn sounded. At the same moment Akane took off over car’s roof, Ranma had launched himself at the knife wielding crook.

His first blow easily removed the weapon from the Clyde’s grasp and left the big man’s wrist dangling broken at his side. Unphased by the injury Clyde swung his other fist at Ranma, but found only empty space where he thought the little man should have been. In fact Ranma was already aiming a sweeping kick at Clyde’s knees from behind.

The huge man went down like a giant sequoia tree felled by a martial arts chainsaw. No sooner had his face hit the pavement when Clyde felt himself being lifted off the ground by a little man only half his size. Ranma hoisted his opponent back into a standing position, stepped back and gave the man a few seconds to come back to his senses before the master of Anything Goes Martial Arts demonstrated his company’s signature move.

The flying kick sent Clyde sailing into the same bus shelter his partner had shattered only moments before. He fell through the opening and came to rest draped over the bench seat as if he were there sleeping off a long night while waiting for the next bus.

Ranma rushed to Akane’s side. Her shoulder was scraped and bruised from where she tumbled backwards on the rough concrete, but was otherwise fine. He easily lifted his wife to her feet and enveloped her in a strong hug. "I’m so sorry, Akane. I’m a fool for making such a big fuss over this. Let’s just get back in the car and get out of here before any more of these yakuza types show up."

"I think it’s too late for that, Ranma," Akane said pointing over his shoulder.

Behind them in the street just beyond the broken bus shelter a large crowd had begun to gather. Ranma looked at the mob of angry brown and black faces with growing alarm.

Chapter 3 - Coming soon!

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