On a Wingnut and a Prayer
Part Three
By: Stainless Steel Rat

Gadget’s unintentional keynote speech, and the amazing victory scored by Dale and Foxglove, ensured the Rangers gained the notice of the entire convention. Added to the retellings of Monty’s stories, and Gadget’s already high reputation as an exceptional inventor and engineer from her published articles, they quickly became popular people to visit. In most cases contact details were given, and most of them were surprised that Gadget didn’t have an e-mail address.

Gadget had never gotten around to putting a computer into the Treehouse, mainly because she was worried about the structural implications of another room large enough to take even a small desktop. Of course, now Hangar B-25 was back in use, this was no longer a problem. Salvaging a server from Stanislawski’s junk yard would be easy enough, and putting it back in service at her old home was not a problem. All they’d need at RRHQ would be a palmtop keyboard, a graphics card connected to the TV, any kind of PDA motherboard to handle the interfaces and a wireless link to the main computer. It should work with no problems, unless she used Windows.

In the mean time, Foxglove said she could provide some stopgap web-mail accounts, via the City University server. Chip remarked that at the rate they were collecting contacts, they’d soon have a network bigger than the Rescue Aid Society.

Finally, the morning of the Unlimited Air Race dawned. The camps of the various contestants were a hive of activity, especially one group of bees who’d turned their home into a dirigible, and intended to haul it along purely by main strength. The Rescue Rangers’ place was almost as lively, Monty cooking al fresco, Dale checking it was al dente and Chip fetching all-a the ingredients.

"Foxglove! Have you seen my hairbrush?" cried a certain blonde mouse who was using the wash basin inside the Eagle. Gadget had been hunting around for several minutes.

The bat belle was sitting in one of the passenger seats just forward of the steps, checking herself with a mirror. "Mmm… no. We’ll probably find it when we pack to go home. Just use mine instead, okay? You start last, so you won’t be taking off till almost mid-day."

Gadget used the bat’s brush, a frustrated expression on her face. "Golly, I know. But it’s just, this is it! I’m so impatient I can’t contain myself… well obviously I can contain myself since I am, in the sense that the amount of material in my body takes up exactly the right space to be contained by my person, but …"

"Please, slow down. You sound like Dale-darling after three bottles of cola." Foxglove got up and came over to stand beside her. "I guess it is pretty exciting. But it’s not like you have much chance of losing. The only thing that can even touch you for speed is the Cloudbuster, and you said your calculations showed he’d lose more time on the ground being refueled than he’d gain from his speed advantage." She put a wingtip on the inventor’s shoulder.

"I know, and that worries me. He must be planning something, considering how oddly he acted at the time trials."

The bat’s brow furrowed. "I still don’t understand what all that was about. Why the race beforehand, and why did you end up starting last for this one when you won?" She could feel the tenseness in her friend’s muscles, both with her sensitive wingtips, and the sonar pulses she sent between sentences. She started giving Gadget a backrub. Hopefully having something to explain would help her calm down.

Gadget unconsciously leant into the backrub as she said the words that would make most Rangers duck and cover almost as fast as ‘Should’ and ‘No Problems’ in the same sentence.

"It’s really quite simple. The course must be patrolled, so it makes sense to keep the contestants together as much as possible. Add to that the fact that you have to stagger the aircraft launches, in order to avoid the risk of collisions, and it makes sense for the slowest to start first. The faster planes will be catching up, and therefore in the same area, simplifying keeping track of them. Since it’s the total flight time including refueling stops, that decides the winner, it doesn’t really matter where you start."

The bat nodded. "I think I see. But what exactly was so odd?"

"Mouseworthy should have won. He held the Cloudbuster at well below its design speed, and it showed. Unlike the Eagle, which has variable geometry wings, and can adapt to any speed regime, those fixed delta wings are pitiful airfoils at anything below 130 knots… sorry 150 mph, and he never went above 180 mph. Look how long it took him to reach a stable altitude, and how wide and relatively slow his turns were. The only thing I can think of is he couldn’t bear to start last, or see me leave before him."

The time trials had been in WAAT membership order, and so Gadget had gone first. She had simply rolled out onto the runway on tractor treads, done a full power vertical takeoff and then did the course, five 20 km circuits at 90% thrust. The Rangerwing had been registered as a support vehicle for the race, and had to have a launch slot determined. Chip had switched to stork leg gear, and walked the ducted fan/jet out to the runway, before doing a vertical takeoff on fans. The multipurpose vehicle had been given the second to last slot based on its only slightly longer time. This meant Mouseworthy’s time put him third to last, just in front of the two Ranger vehicles.

"I guess that makes sense. He really isn’t a very nice person at all." For Foxglove, this was a blistering diatribe.

Gadget set to cleaning her teeth with rather more force than usual. At least her toothbrush, originally part of a watchmakers’ kit, hadn’t gotten lost. She could see Foxglove behind her in the piece of mirror plastic set over the bowl.

The bat maid changed the subject. "So have you and Chip set a date?"

<Splort!> Aficionados of the spit-take would have given Gadget’s effort good marks. "Huh, what?"

"Goodness, you think nobody’s noticed? C’mon, you and Chip are always going around together."

"Well, I mean, golly, that’s because we’re friends." Gadget was slightly panicked. While she’d decided that she might well have some fairly deep feelings for Chip, she was still very nervous about doing much more than thinking about them, or at the very most passively experimenting. Chip had been attentive, and she’d found she thoroughly enjoyed the attention, but she wasn’t sure exactly how to take it any further, or what it might lead to. Well she did, but the very thought made her blush. She had to get off the topic before it showed.

"Besides, Chip is taking an interest in engineering. Certainly with his help designing the new Eagle was a lot quicker and safer." That was safe enough. She started scrubbing furiously at her molars with the brush.

"I’ve got a feeling the reason he’s interested in engineering has blue eyes, blonde hair and a long tail. Every time he looks at you, his heart rate goes up, and I’ve noticed yours doing the same thing, like when he was talking about protecting you, or just now." Foxglove took one wing away from Gadget’s shoulders and tapped her ear. "These things aren’t just for decoration, you know. You should say something, or just take him up to your workshop and show him your…" she gave the back muscles a harder squeeze, "…sprocket collection."

Gadget’s spit takes were improving. This one was surely Olympic level. Her face suddenly appeared to be receding at a good portion of the speed of light from the red shift caused by the resultant blush. Foxglove ended up falling over backwards on the floor, laughing helplessly.

"FOXGLOVE!" Gadget rounded on the bat, who was still giggling furiously. "I’m not that kind of girl!"

The bat calmed down, seeing Gadget was annoyed. "I’m sorry… I guess darling _has_ been rubbing off on me. It’s just your reaction was priceless. Besides, I said something perfectly innocent. You were the one who read something naughty into it. If you’re thinking that way about Chip, you definitely need to say something."

Gadgets annoyance vanished. "But… I’m not sure what to say… I don’t really know what I’m feeling, or what Chip’s feeling anymore. He used to make passes at me, and so did Dale, but it was all kind of silly, and I was never too sure if they were serious or just teasing. I did my best to ignore or defuse it, because I didn’t want them fighting. Now, what if I’ve left it until too late? What if he’s decided I’ll never be more than a friend. Dale has you, and Chip… I’m sure there are plenty of girls who would fall into his paws.

"And then there’s me. Am I really feeling what I think I’m feeling, or am I just thinking that I’m feeling what I’m supposed to be feeling in this sort of situation, and picking Chip because he’s available?" Gadget looked frustrated. "I enjoy our time together, but that might just be because he’s letting me do things I want to do."

Foxglove thought about this for a moment, looking more serious. "I think the two of you are right for each other and you’re both just nervous about showing it. But… maybe you should take him somewhere he wants to go and see if you still enjoy it. Maybe if there’s a Sureluck Jones exhibit at a museum. He’s a big fan, isn’t he?"

Gadget was stopped for a moment, then said, "That’s brilliant! You’re a genius!"

Foxglove looked askance at her, followed with a couple of extra skances. "Isn’t that supposed to be my line?"

From outside they both heard Monty’s call. "Grub’s up. Come n’ get it!" They arrived last at the table, delayed by vanishing hairbrushes. Dale proclaimed it a possible case, Chip insisted he was a probable head case and the food was served.

The Australian chef had out done himself, with an eclectic mix of foods, cheese flaps, banana fritters, mushroom omelette, and both steaming hot acorn coffee and cool orange juice. In deference to the local cuisine, miso soup boiled away along side the coffee container. He’d also made riceballs (moochi) coated in a mix of poppy and sesame seed and filled riceballs (nigirimeshi) with salted plum (umeboshi) and wrapped in edible seaweed (nori). Since a rice grain to a mouse was about the size of a large boiled sweet on a human scale, it required a rather special technique to squeeze them together, something he’d learned from Kimiko.

The meal was doubly enjoyable in the morning coolness, as the sun was still low on the horizon. The smells were sharp, the company pleasant and upbeat. Zipper was not present, having been at the joint party that the Rangers and Nekomi Tech people had held. He’d discovered that sweetened saki was not to be taken lightly, despite its innocuous flavour, and was currently sleeping it off. As he finished his third helping of omelette, Chip went over the flight support strategy.

"Since the Rangerwing is slower, we’re making the best of our head-start." He placed a doll-house salt shaker off to one side, and the pepper pot further forward to the other side. Finally the ketchup squirter went furthest away. He started indicating a path between them with his paw.

"We’ll stay on the inside of the zig-zag each time, cutting the corners. That way we’ll get to the third checkpoint, which is the first overnight stop, before Gadget does. Since we’ve mounted booster rockets, if we’re needed we can get back to the Eagle in a hurry. Gadget, are you sure you want to run the Eagle solo? I can understand the Wing carrying us and the supplies to minimise your payload, but a co-pilot might come in handy."

The mouse inventor shook her head. "Golly, I can understand your worry guys, but this is _my_ test, and I want to do this much of it myself. Besides, it’ll take me no more than an hour and twelve minutes, thirteen seconds, give or take three minutes five seconds to allow for wind and environmental variables, to traverse all three checkpoints."

Dale looked puzzled. "Izzat all? Why’s the race taking three days?"

Monty answered him. "Dale-lad, the stages are around 80 miles each. Figure out how long it’d take the original Rangerplane, and remember a lotta the planes here don’t even do that. We’re talking a couple of hours per stage, plus most of ‘em need a recharge. Gadget’s inventions have spoiled yer."

"I guess we’re ready," Chip said, then chuckled and got up, making a show of examining his red nosed friend’s head like a melon. "No, no spoilage." He tapped. "Hollow, yes but…" Dale spun off his seat and jumped on him, grinning. "I’ll give you hollow…"

There ensued a wrestling match with a lot of overacting and chattering chipmunk laughter. It turned into silly sumo, with elements of Hong Kong martial arts movie. Foxglove cheered Dale on with increasingly daft suggestions for martial arts or possibly Pokemon moves, while Gadget did the same for Chip and Monty acted as referee.

"Ha, red nosed one, your sumo is mighty, but you are no match for one of the fedora school!"

"Aww, your fedora school is old hat! I shall defeat it with my mastery of upsi-daisy, oki-doki and hurdi-gurdi!"

"Dale I choose you! Use your Invincible Tickle of Doom!"

"Chip, watch out for his left foot… of course you should also be watching for his right foot and both his arms as well, but particularly… oh, scratch that." Gadget had many awesome skills, but cheerleading was not one of them. "Maybe the two of you should combine styles and form a Red Hat school."

This stopped the match dead as Dale and Monty tried to work out what she meant. Only Foxglove (the resident computer geek) and Chip (who’d been to the same lectures as Gadget) burst out giggling, or chuckling, having gotten the joke. After an explanation, the match was called off, without a clear winner, due to cooling food. This was quickly dealt with, the leftovers being distributed for packed lunches. Suitably fortified, with an option on fiftified and sixtified, the Rangers set about getting the planes ready for the big race, doing flight inspections and loading.

&&&

Aircraft after aircraft had moved onto the runway and taken off under the watch of WAAT marshals. Over half the vehicles had qualified, and by the time they got to the Cloudbuster, the place was looking rather empty. The Golden Carp had taken off over an hour ago, and a support dirigible with Mouseworthy’s crest even earlier.

As Mouseworthy’s plane rolled past, everyone noticed some additions. Slung under each wing was a glass soda bottle of 8-Across, cap facing backwards. As luck would have it, the plane stopped just short of the Ranger’s site, and they got a good look. As the marshal waved for him to start, an automatic bottle opener arrangement mounted on each popped the caps, and a huge twin jet of frothy soda sprayed out, adding to the thrust of the jets. The Cloudbuster took off like a rocket.

There were exclamations over Gadget’s headset as the others wondered what Mouseworthy was up to. Gadget knew and enlightened them.

"He’s obviously developed a form of hyper-carbonation. Basically he’s made the fizzy drink in those bottles super-fizzy. When released the pressure acts as a cold rocket thruster. It was discussed as a method of propulsion and discarded. Although with the right additives you get a specific impulse almost as great as dynamite, it has only a very short duration. He’s using them as JATO units to speed up his take-off, though why he’s using glass bottles…"

"Is it going to be a problem, time-wise?" asked Chip, as the marshal signaled the Rangerwing out onto the runway.

Gadget did some quick calculations, and got reassuring answers. "It does cut some of my advantage, but not enough to make the difference. But I think I’ll go straight to 100% thrust right away."

"That’s good. We’ll see you at the overnight stop, okay? In the meantime keep in touch." In the background she could hear Monty talking to Tomodachi Island tower, then the Rangerwing lifted straight up, echoes of goodbyes and well wishing leaking through Chip’s microphone.

Gadget soon followed, doing a conventional takeoff, just to keep in practice. Everything was running smoothly, and her GPS system made navigation easy, one of the reasons she could manage without a navigator. She quickly started to overhaul stragglers, taking care to pass well clear of them. Birds wearing WAAT colours were spotted at intervals, along with a couple of hovering toy helicopters in WAAT livery. Apart from occasional check-ins with the Rangerwing, she just lost herself in the enjoyment of flying.

It was only 20 minutes later that she spotted the island; 250 miles per hour really ate up the distance. It was more a barren atoll where two high poles with WAAT flags marked the first checkpoint and refueling station. This was little more than a flattened strip of dead coral, a wind turbine, and a couple of milk carton buildings. As she’d expected, when she passed between the widely spaced poles she could see vehicles charging up. Amongst them was the distinctive shape of the Cloudbuster, being refueled from a transparent tank, though Mouseworthy’s support blimp was no-where to be seen. Obviously it had just dropped off the tank and gone on to the next checkpoint. It looked like the mouse himself had no part in this, and was relaxing in the sun on an easy chair while his flunkies did the sweating.

As she turned onto her new heading, she called on the radio. "Rangerwing, this is Screaming Eagle, I’ve just passed the first checkpoint, over." There was no response. "Rangerwing, Screaming Eagle, do you read!"

Chip’s voice sounded after a second, to her relief. "Sorry Gadget, we were in the middle of something. Glad to hear from you. Over."

Gadget could hear the chipmunk was tense. "What’s wrong?"

"I was just about to call. There’s a rescue situation, and we’re needed. It’s the Golden Carp."

"Ohmigosh, I’ll be there to help right away!" Even as she reached for the switch that would change her over to direction finder, Chip’s voice came through clear. "NO! Stay on course, either the Rangerwing and the WAAT marshals can handle this, or no-one can. I’ll keep you posted. Over." The return to radio discipline was deliberate.

Gadget started to protest, but realised Chip was making sense. "So what’s happening?… Over." she asked.

"I’ll try and fill you in before we arrive…" In quick, brief sentences, he outlined what had happened, minutes previously.

Since the Rangerwing could monitor two frequencies simultaneously, they had been tuned to the WAAT reserved emergency frequency, as well as the Screaming Eagle’s. There had been nothing but occasional commands for nearby flyers from the marshals, until…

"Mayday, Mayday! This is the Golden Carp, WAAT 86 sending a mayday! We are… 35 kilometers past Checkpoint One on a bearing of 62 degrees and an altitude of 220 meters. We are losing pressure in several buoyancy chambers and can not sustain level flight. We have insufficient reserve gas to compensate for total deflation of the chambers, and may have to ditch." The Japanese-accented mousese sounded like Akane, the pilot.

Monty had flipped the call to the speakers by the second Mayday, so all five in the Rangerwing heard it.

Foxglove brought a wingtip to her mouth. "Oh my, we have to help them."

"On it!" said Chip. "Monty, figure an intercept course, using the boosters." He stayed on course, by his rough calculations the Golden Carp was not too far away, somewhere ahead of them. Another voice came on the frequency.

"This is Stage 2 air marshal, we have birds in the air heading for your position and we are scrambling a plane to make pickup, ETA 27 minutes from now. In the meantime all the marshals along your route will be notified. Over."

He waited a second, then spoke on the same frequency. "This is Rangerwing X, offering assistance. We are a supporting vessel and can be at the scene in…" He looked to Monty, who scribed ‘12’ on the edge of the map. "…12 minutes. Over."

The air marshal replied. "Negative Rangerwing X. We have sufficient units…"

"Golden Carp here. We may need them, I don’t think we’ll be able to stay in the air for a full half hour. Over." Akane’s voice was steady, but you could hear the worry behind it.

"Rangerwing to air marshal. The Rangerwing is a dedicated patrol and rescue craft with VTOL capability and manipulator arms, as well as an experienced rescue team on board. We can help."

There were a couple of seconds silence. Then the air marshal’s voice came. "Roger that Rangerwing. Proceed to scene, and good luck. Over."

"Wilco. Out." Chip cut out his mike and sighed. If he’d been talking to Gadget he might have said Wilberry instead. "Well we’re on. Course?"

"Heading 062 magnetic, Chip-lad." Monty had experience as a navigator back when he was travelling with Geegaw. Chip adjusted the course, and said, "I’ll fly, you handle the boosters, okay?"

It was at this point that Gadget called and was filled in.

Dale was practically bouncing up and down. "Wowie zowie! A real rescue! And we get to use the big rockets. Ever since we pulled that stunt on that crook Thadeus, I wanted to know what it felt like."

The Rangerwing’s landing gear could deploy as stork legs or as manipulator arms, and mount additional equipment such as booster rockets even while retracted, which was what they were carrying now. From either side of his back rest, Monty pulled down the pair of armatures that controlled the landing gear in manipulator arm mode, as well as the auxiliary system connectors. and locked them in place. Then he reached down into the well between the pilot seats, and flipped open a toothpaste cap mounted there. He flipped the three dip switches revealed, and noted the 3 mm LEDs, as big as a penlight, light up on each armature.

"The boostahs are linked together, and armed." Because the armatures were locked in place, the arms wouldn’t unfold or move but the auxiliary connector were active, in this case the triggers for the strap on rockets and their releases. The first two dip switches were for continuity, connecting the firing and release mechanisms into the circuit. The third switch had cross linked them so pressing either armature button would trigger both. You couldn’t use the main yoke while using the arms, which was why using the boosters or manipulators was a job for two people. There were foot pedals that acted as direct controls for the fans when using them, and in theory one could hover using the foot pedals while using the armatures to control the manipulator arms.

Meanwhile, Chip’s grip on the yoke tightened slightly, and pushed the jet thrust up to 100%. Gadget had flown the Wing when it used rockets during the "Baby Thadeus" case, and while she’d explained what to do, there hadn’t been time or spare fireworks for test flights. "Check your seatbelts are tight…" Getting no negative responses back he said, "Okay, ready."

Monty "Hold on to yer hats, mates. This is going to kick like a kung-fu kangaroo! On me mark… Mark!" He slammed down the triggers, and nothing happened.

Dale looked disappointed. "Hey where’s the…" <Kaboom> The Rangerwing suddenly shot forward like a rocket, which made sense if you thought about it. Each of the Rangers was embedded in their seats, which were vibrating.

"To..oo..ok aa..aa..aa sec..ond fo..oo..or th..ee fus..es to bu..uu..rn do..oo..wn." explained Chip.

The airspeed indicator indicated 280 knots, over 320 miles per hour, but clearly didn’t expect to be believed. Chip veered slightly to avoid a bird that might have been in WAAT livery, but still passing close enough to leave it spinning in mid-air like a top. The reworked fireworks had some of Gadget’s special additives, similar to the ones for her Homeguard system, that increased the thrust of the boosters to almost hyper-carbonation levels. They also had several times the duration, but they still burned out after about a hundred seconds.

Monty was feeling the back pressure in the armatures, and when it started to slacken, he called out, "Get ready to dump the boostahs!" Chip obediently dipped the nose, checking the area ahead was clear of unintentional targets. "Clear!" he yelled, and Monty pressed the release buttons. The two rockets, restraining pins retracted, shot off ahead of the Rangerwing on their own remaining thrust, and splashed into the sea. Chip brought the nose up and climbed on full jet thrust, trying to keep as much of the extra velocity as long as possible.

Dale was the first to speak. "Whoa! What a buggy ride!" He seemed none the worse for wear.

"Zhey!" Zipper popped out of the indentation in the seat back padding between Dale and Foxglove, which is where he’d been embedded by the initial thrust. He looked annoyed, while Foxy looked slightly green. Of course Zipper looked very green, but then he would.

"Hey sorry, Zipper, I didn’t mean it that way. In fact, let’s do it again!"

Foxglove gulped. "Only if you let me off first, darling."

"Zyoou zed id!" agreed Zipper.

"Foxy, are you okay?" Dale reached across to her. "But you hang upside down all night and like it!"

The girl bat breathed deeply, recovering her colour. "Upside down I can handle. Up and down… That’s another matter! Oh, my, I feel like a milkshake."

"Great idea! Maybe we can get one when we’re finished."

Foxy looked ill again at the thought. "Oooh… cute stuff, don’t say that again unless you want more colours on your shirt."

Chip spoke up from the front. "We should be getting within visual range in about 5 minutes, so we need a strategy."

"Huh? I thought you had a plan!" said Dale.

Chip sighed, "Actually it was more of a reflex action. Someone in trouble, go to the rescue." He sighed. "Our suction cups and magnets will just bounce off the balloons, and the grappler hands will most likely puncture something, but we should be able to grip the big dorsal fin. On fans, we should be able to give them enough additional lift to make the next checkpoint. But I’m open to alternate suggestions." He was actually speaking over the cabin speakers so he didn’t have to turn his head.

Foxglove spoke up. "Hmmm… It would be better if we could fix the leaks."

Monty shook his head. "I hate ta break it to ya luv, but we can’t even detect ‘em. Unless Gadget added something I don’t know about to the Wing."

Dale’s brow furrowed. "Maybe we don’t need it. Helium makes your voice go higher, right? So if Zipper flew under the outer cover humming, and Foxy followed him listening to his buzz, she might be able to figure out where the leaks are. Can you do it, Foxy-mitten? Zipper, willing to have a go?"

"Dale, that’s brilliant!… I can certainly try." The bat nodded. The fearless fly hummed his agreement.

Chip stated. "Then you need to remove the outer covering over the leak, without damaging the underlying tubes, and cover the entire area with a seal. We have Scotch tape and tools in the back…"

Dale interrupted. "I gotta better idea. Hamster Huey and the Goooey Kabloooie!"

Chip looked quizzical. "You really think you can pull _that_ off, hovering in midair?"

Dale looked uncharacteristically serious. "I think I can, Chipper, if Foxy keeps me stable. You’ve gotta let me at least try!"

Chip realised this harked back to his little speech in the cargo hold. Here was a chance to practice what he preached and let Dale run his plan, his way. "Okay, do it. It may just be cuh-razy enough to work. Now we just need a way to expose the area."

Foxy spoke up. "I can manage that. But what’s all this about gooey kablooies?"

"Zyeah." "Yeah, Dale-lad, what’s the story?"

Dale just grinned. "It’s one from a comic, and you’ll see soon enough."

"I’d say roight now!" said Monty, pointing off to the front on his side. A golden speck was visible, and Chip turned towards it. It was uncomfortably low, only a few hundred feet above the waves. Smaller birds in WAAT livery were circling, but it was clear they couldn’t do anything.

Chip pawed the radio to the emergency frequency as they flew past and ahead, coming in a wide circle.

"Rangerwing to Golden Carp, we have you in visual range. Over."

"We see you, Rangerwing. Chip, thank you for coming. You have room for us? Over."

"Hopefully that won’t be needed. We have a plan to stop your leaks, but we may have to damage the outer fabric. Over."

There was a short pause, then Akane said, "If we ditch it will be a total loss. Do what you must, but do it fast. Over."

"We’re on it. Out."

Chip was already making preparations. He flipped switches as he talked. "Monty, after we let off the others, we’ll stand ready to help, so stay on the grappler arms, okay?"

"Roight Chippah!" The transparent canopy opened, sliding down into the sides of the Rangerwing like roll- down car windows. The smell of the sea and sun-warmed air hit them fully for the first time, overwhelming the rather plastic, new car smell of the recently rebuilt interior.

"Arming ejectors on seats three and four. Make sure your seatbelts are _off_, and your seat backs and tray tables are in their full upright position!"

Dale undid his seat belt, then reached down underneath his seat and pulled out a pair of red gumballs, and pouched them in his cheeks. He looked to Foxy, who had removed her seatbelt and Zipper, resting in her lap, and got thumbs-up and wingtip-up in return.

"’eady ‘o ‘o ‘ere!" came his slightly muffled voice.

"Then Rescue Rangers, Away!" Chip twisted and pulled the eject lever, and the two back seats sprung up out of the plane, carrying Dale, Foxglove and Zipper with them. As the seats retracted on springs, Dale’s bat-glider unfolded, and the trio drifted down towards the stricken blimp.

The Rangerwing was windward of the Golden Carp at the time, to make it easier for the glider and the others to get there. Chip had decided against going overhead and grabbing the dorsal fin, because, now he could estimate the dimensions, a bit of the down-blast from the jets would hit the dirigible itself, and the airflow would make it more hazardous for Dale and the others.

"Akane, please bring your vehicle around to face the wind. Dale, Foxglove and Zipper need to move back and forth along your hull." He explained Dale’s idea. "Dale’s running this show, we’re here as back-up. Over."

"Roger, I’m sending Shippo out on a cable to help. Over."

Meanwhile, the trio of flyers dipped down. Zipper disappeared into a gap in the outer skin just by the dorsal fin while Dale was holding off and chewing with all his might, using the crosswind to hover in place. Foxglove flew in just above the area Zipper was and listened. Zipper swept back and forth along the covered valleys between the buoyancy tubes, Foxglove tracking him closely.

"It’s definitely the front end…. About here!" Foxglove pointed to a front panel. "We need to remove it."

Shippo scrambled forward on all fours, holding tightly to the outer fabric. He wore a headset that connected to the cable around his waist. "Lucky! Is under the access panel."

Foxglove landed on fabric where a buoyancy chamber didn’t press against it, foot claws digging in. She exclaimed, "Then remove it quickly! Zipper’s buzz is getting weak!"

The pair pulled back the cloth panel, to reveal a downed fly. "I’ll ‘et ‘im!" Dale called through a mouthful of chewing gum and dived, sweeping across the upper surface of the blimp and plucking Zipper neatly from his resting place.

"Was too much helium." Shippo called. Fortunately the green fly quickly recovered once out in fresh air, and flew off on his own, to join the others resting on the outer skin just behind the panel.

"’Ow it’s ‘y ‘urn." Dale called. "’old it ‘eady ‘iving ‘in’o ‘e ‘ind, ‘ut ‘low."

Foxglove translated. "He said to hold it steady, driving into the wind, but slowly." Shippo repeated the instructions and the dirigible turned until the wind was streaming from directly in front of them.

Dale vectored around to hover just in front of the blimp, facing down. He started to blow a bubble.

"Is not doing what I think?" exclaimed Shippo.

"Don’t worry, Dale’s an expert bubble blower, and an expert glider." said Foxglove, but flapped her way up to grab his shoulders with her feet and steady him as the drag from the bubble grew. A sudden gust blew them backwards, past the dorsal fin and over the moving tail, almost rupturing the bubble, which was almost as big as they were. If it exploded, not only would he not be able to save the dirigible, but with his controls and possibly Foxy’s wings gummed up they might fall into the sea themselves.

Dale was trying to stabilise his glider without bursting the bubble, when something grabbed his waist. Most of his vision was taken up by the bubble, but his peripheral vision could see Foxglove caught in the Rangerwing’s other manipulator arm claw. He heard Chip’s voice from behind him over the external speakers.

"We moved around back in case you needed a backstop. We’ll get you back in position, you just blow that thing so we can all go home." Chip was as good as his word, maneuvering the glider-borne chipmunk right over the exposed area. Dale motioned downwards and Monty lowered the manipulator arm until the far side of the bubble just touched the edge of the exposed area. Then Dale quite deliberately bit down, bursting the bubble.

Normally a bubble ruptures on the weakest, far side and it blows back, giving the classic bubble-gum face-pack. But this one went the other way, coating the entire exposed area in a seamless layer of gum. Shippo concentrated on Akane’s voice in his earphones and then smiled broadly. "Leaking has stopped!"

Chip’s voice came from the speakers. "We’re not out of trouble yet! Look to your right!"

Everybody quickly saw the problem. All this time the dirigible had been drifting downwards. Now it was only a few feet above the waves and it’s own momentum was taking it still further down. Nor was the sea calm; there was some kind of submerged reef, and the waves were breaking high over it. Even now, one had crested as high as the Golden Carp, and was surging towards the Rangerwing, ready to engulf them!

<Station break – Water way to go….>

Almost immediately Chip yelled out over the speakers, "Dale, Loop de loop!", as the mechanical arms that held the red nosed chipmunk and his batty belle, suddenly flung them up and backwards. Dale realised what he was on about. "Follow my lead!" he called to Foxglove. At the top of his backwards arc he tumbled and spun in a loop while the wave passed underneath them, swamping the Rangerwing momentarily. Then out of the spray it rose, fans screaming. Fortunately only the peak of the wave, a thin curtain of water, had hit it and broken up. Dale and Foxy hovered above, watching the drama below.

The Golden Carp had been swamped, but rose to the surface immediately, impelled by the balloons. However it was stuck to the wave surface. As The Rangerwing spun around, the grappler hands folded back into the forearm pods, and out popped a pair of plungers. Swinging down and back, they fired and stuck to the one rigid part of the front of the dirigible, the cockpit window. The Rangerwing’s jet added its thrust, carefully avoiding the dirigible, and the force pulled the blimp free. The pair soared into the sky, and the Rangerwing canopy split open invitingly. Dale and Foxy dropped in side by side, Dale pressing the button that retracted his glider wings as he fell.

Monty was nervous, almost panicking. "Have ya seen Zippah? Me little pally was still down there when the wave came!" The arms that had launched the harpoons were facing in the right direction, and Monty was using the targeting cameras to scan the surface of the dirigible for Zipper. Shippo was hanging on to the upper surface, looking like a drowned squirrel, but Zipper was not to be seen.

"Aww, I’m sure Zipper’s okay. The little guy’s got what it takes," Dale said, but felt slightly worried himself. After all it had been his plan.

Foxglove quickly said, "I thought I saw something on top of the dorsal fin…"

Monterey panned the camera upwards, and there he was. Holding right on the top of the dorsal fin, wings pumping frantically, Zipper was adding his own contribution to raising the Golden Carp, and it looked like he was hauling it up out of the water all by himself.

Dale snickered, partly with relief. "Gives a new meaning to the term ‘fly fishing’ doesn’t it!"

Chuckles ensued. Monty hauled back on the armatures, drawing the cables back. "Knew me pally would be alright. Of course this is nothing compared to the time we hooked a hundred pound marlin off Queensland. Had to say sorry to the poor bloke, a cheese ship had lost some deck cargo in a storm and I was after that…"

Chip meanwhile contacted the Carp. "Is everything okay over there? Over."

There was jubilation in Akane’s response. "We’re fine! We pressurised some of the interior balloons and we should easily make it to tonight’s resting point. We can get someone to bring one of our big tanks from Tomodachi, and repair materials. Over."

"That’s good. Is Shippo okay?"

"Are you talking to Akane?" Dale asked. Chip nodded as he listened to Akane’s response. "They’re both fine. Shippo’s soaked, but says something about not letting a bubble-gum crisis become a bubble-gum crash, whatever that means."

Dale and Foxglove both groaned.

Chip closed the conversation with the Carp by checking it was safe to release the suction cups, and come along side to retrieve Zipper. As they did, Dale smacked a fist into a paw. "Oh yeah, I gotta tell them something. After a couple of hours the gum will go hard and start to peel. They have to be ready to put more Scotch tape on by then."

"I’ll let them know… more Scotch tape?"

"Uhh. Yeah, there were a couple of pieces already there. Why?"

Chip shook his head, "It may be nothing… Anyway, looks like your plan worked."

"Hey, what did you expect. I am a master of the sticky side of the food source, as well as the deep fried…"

Chip gave a mock grimace, and said playfully. "If this is leading to the phrase, ‘It binds the galaxy together’, just remember I’m up front and I still have access to your ejector seat control."

Dale immediately started looking around and whistling innocently, and the Rangerwing shot off ahead of the Golden Carp. Chip talked to Akane, giving her Dale’s news, then got on Gadget’s channel and brought her up to date, switching her to cabin speakers.

Gadget’s voice was slightly wistful. "Golly, I wish I could have helped. Over."

"You did. We’d never have been able to do this rescue if it hadn’t been for the unsurpassed quality and ingenuity of your inventions. Your plane put us here in time to help, and could actually do something once it got here. You were here in spirit, because your spirit is in every invention you build."

"Oh Chip, that’s such a sweet thing to say."

"It’s also the truth." From around him the others added vocal endorsements.

&&&

They easily made it to the first day’s resting point in time to see the Screaming Eagle pass through the finishing hoop. Gadget was already on the ground and greeting them when the Cloudbuster tore through. This island was smaller than Tomodachi, but rockier, and clearly volcanic. Having seen that the Rangerwing was being recharged, and set up the camp, they took the rest of the afternoon off.

The remains of breakfast were taken with them as a picnic lunch, and they explored the island. There were long white sand beaches of ground down coral, and a towering basalt spire that jutted out of the sea at the far end of the island. Further evidence of the volcanic nature of the place were numerous hot springs, a few already occupied by other teams. The vegetation was verdant, and gave shade during the warm afternoon. They’d intended to play on the beach, so they had swimming costumes with them. Instead, Dale suggested they try out an empty hot spring he found while searching off the path for buried treasure.

The water bubbled up into a hot pool, etched into the side of a rocky pumice hill. This flowed over into a lower and cooler but still quite warm basin on three sides, forming a crescent shaped pool. It was screened by greenery, which made an excellent impromptu changing room for the girls. Meanwhile the guys made do. Chip and Dale were splashing around in the lower basin with a ping pong ball, while Zipper had appropriated a leaf as a floating sun-bed, and was working on his tan (which would of course just be a darker green, but then each to their own).

Meanwhile, Monty had clambered up to the higher pool, and was standing on the edge. "Roight lads! Now Ol’ Monterey will show you how ‘e won the All Australian High Diving tournament!" So saying, he took a mighty leap off the edge and cannon-balled right into the middle of the pool, causing a modest tidal-wave.

It subsided to leave two drenched looking chipmunks. Zipper and his leaf sat on Chip’s head like a rather avant-garde hat. They both spluttered and Chip came out with, "How? By submerging the judges until they agreed to make you winner?"

"Now lads, in Australian High Diving it’s the biggest splash that counts."

Dale smirked as he shook his head, spraying water on Chip and Zipper. "Not the biggest drip ? Then Chip‘d win for sure."

Chip growled playfully. "How’d ya like to learn how to breath underwater, the hard way… ay… ay…"

The reason for his sudden loss of speech was the arrival of Gadget. Rather than the pink tutu bathing suit she usually wore, she had on a modest but attractive one piece with a fitted tail hole, in lavender of course.

Zipper hovered in front of the frozen chipmunk and waved a hand in front of his eyes. "Zo boy!"

"What do you think guys? Foxglove saw it on one of the market stalls in the plaza and said it would suit me."

"Wowie zowie, I’ll say!" Dale managed.

"Of course I’ve still got to add some loops so I can carry a spanner… What’s wrong with Chip?"

Monty grinned. "I think Chippah agrees too…"

This broke Chip out of his trance. "Uh… Of course, you’re… I mean it’s beautiful."

Dale grinned and patted Chip on the back, looking around. "C’mon Chip stop over-react… SHARK!"

Everybody looked in the direction Dale was, where a sinister triangular fin was cutting it’s way straight through the water towards him. Dale’s reaction was remarkably restrained. He jumped straight out of the water and started running on top, but before he could pick up much speed, the shape was upon him and burst out of the water, engulfing him.

"Hiya cutie! Do you like my new black swimsuit?" Foxglove, for it was she, having swum underwater with one wingtip above the surface, snuzzled the red nosed chipmunk.

"Foxy!" Dale burst out laughing, "Oh that was a good one!" He returned her hug with fervor, then looked her up and down. "Wow! You look amazing!" Her suit was a more daring one piece, that hugged her in all the right places, much as Dale was doing.

"Ah, guys…" Gadget was in the water and looking up at them. "Since when could you stand on water?"

The pair looked down and realised they were still standing on the surface. They looked up at each other. "We can’t!" they chorused as they splashed back down. The group was still laughing when a new voice intruded.

"Ah, it’s the Whacked-wrench team." came a familiar voice. Mouseworthy appeared at the edge of the pools, flanked by twin goons, both wearing his livery.

Chip glowered. "Ha ha, it is to laugh." he said in disdainful tones. "Come to concede defeat? Gadget handily wiped the floor with you today."

The mouse growled. "Ha! I’ve not even begun to show my true power! Mark my words, I’ll win this yet, and not all your tricksy, gimicky… _gadgets_ will save you!"

Monty stirred from his semi-float. "Yer pond scum, you two bit tinkerer. An’ that sounds loike a threat. I suggest you take tweedle-dum and tweedle-dumber over there and go find someone else ta annoy."

Chip nodded. "Yep, you’re not quite dim enough to start something now. After all there’s a very slim chance you might get lucky in the race. Attack us and you’re out on your pointy ears."

For a moment it looked like he was going to order his goons to attack anyway, but then he simply sneered, addressing Gadget. "I just wanted you to know that all your efforts will be futile, and all your hopes will be dashed. At the finish, I shall be laughing, and you will be humiliated."

"Huh, not while I can still hold a control yoke or turn a wrench." Gadget responded. "I’m a better pilot, and a better engineer to boot, and I have friends that believe in me. You have nothing but money and hatred."

"Hah!" Mouseworthy sneered again. He waved his cane and his two goons turned to go.

Dale said rapidly in American TV show announcer style, "And there goes our latest contestant… Let’s give him a big wave!" He spread his arms wide, and everyone caught on. As one they surged forward, pushing Dale and Foxglove towards Mouseworthy. His arms and her wings scooped up a lot of water and slooshed it all over the mouse as he left.

"Why you…!" He turned and raged, but the Rangers were standing together, so he just turned and stalked away

&&&

They returned to camp, a couple of hours later, tired but refreshed and happy. The Golden Carp had arrived, and the Rangers went over went over to see how things were. Professor Chinou was there with some of the Nekomi Tech ground staff. They’d hitched a ride on a WAAT cargo transport with repair equipment.

"Ah, Hackwrench-sensei, I must thank your team again for saving our ship." The suffix sensei meant ‘master’, and was usually reserved for a teacher, doctor or scientist. By giving Gadget that honorific the older mouse was paying her a great complement.

"Golly, Chinou-sensei, that what the Rescue Rangers do. But I personally had the least to do with it, it’s the others you should be thanking."

"I intend to. We have already made repairs and refilled the damaged chambers. But there is a disturbing development."

Chip frowned. "It’s the tape that was on the balloons isn’t it?"

"How could you know about that?" Chinou’s voice had turned harsh.

"Sorry, professor, but Dale noticed when he was blowing bubbles. I’m guessing your people didn’t put it there?"

Chinou relaxed a bit. "Indeed. Forgive me, it was a bit of a shock. It was not in an obvious location, you would need to be right overhead to see down to where it is, but it is there. Careful examination showed there were small pinholes in it that went through into the chambers."

Chip nodded grimly. "Sabotage, a slow leak with the tape there to stop the pinholes from rupturing. And since that cover was the access point to the balance sensor and the pumps, anyone who did work up there must be considered a suspect, which includes Gadget."

That got an explosion from everyone. "Lad, ya can’t…" "I had no intention of accusing…" "Oh,my…" "Chipper, your hat’s on too tight!" "Chip, you saw…"

Chip held up both paws. "I just had to get it out in the open. I personally know Gadget could never consider such a thing, and I was there the whole time she was working, so I can confirm she never touched the Scotch tape. But then I’m hardly an impartial witness."

He gritted his teeth. "We need to figure out who did it, through means, motive and opportunity. Professor, was there any group who would not want you to succeed with your vessel enough to pull a stunt like this?"

Chinou shook his head. "No… while it is fairly revolutionary, it is not like it is a matter of putting other dirigible makers out of business. Remember, we are talking about craftsmen, small teams, not big companies. Besides, they will be able to use our design once we publish it, for a nominal fee."

"So no economic justification… A personal attack, against you as the designer, or to harm Akane-kun or Shippo-kun?"

"I have no personal enemies, at least none that would risk killing people to get back at me. I do not know everything about my crew’s lives, but it seems unlikely, since they would most likely survive, even if the Carp had ditched. However I will call them over." He did so. As they were coming, Chip continued.

"I’ve got another idea, but I need to work on it some more. Opportunity next. When could the sabotage have taken place?"

The professor looked puzzled. "It couldn’t, that’s what’s so puzzling. Shippo made a pre-flight inspection before the time-trial, and again just before the start of the race. He shouldn’t have missed it."

"We can ask him ourselves, here he is now."

Neither Akane or Shippo could think of any enemies who might sabotage the Carp, but when it came to discussing the flight inspection, Shippo started looking nervous. Chip quickly picked up on this. Shippo soon admitted that while he’d made a full inspection before the time trials, and after, he’d skimped this morning’s. A rather cute squirrelette had gotten talking to him, and been very admiring. By the time he’d had a chance to finish, it was too late. He hadn’t thought it important, since the vessel had a thorough check the night before.

Chip mused. "Anyone want to bet that squirrel was a deliberate plant? So the sabotage must have taken place that night after the party. But how? The runway was patrolled… Chalk up another mystery. Maybe means will help figure this out. How could you set those holes to appear in the tape when it was already in the air…?"

Gadget spoke up first. "You could paint it with wax during the night, and when they got up in the air and were using the temperature differential in the inter-space the heat would melt it, or you could hire a stinging insect to act at the right time, or use a slow chemical reaction that would eat away at the plastic film and create the pinholes…." She noticed everyone looking at her. "It’s an interesting challenge… I’m sure I could come up with plenty of other ways."

Chip frowned. "Too many ways. If only I had some proper tools I could check for traces… So we have sabotage, by a person unknown, for reasons unknown, by a method unknown. Everything else is obvious." The last was said in an exasperated tone.

Dale chipped in, "Aww, I bet you figure it all out before the next station break."

Chip shook his head. "This isn’t some cartoon, but you’re partly right. I’m going to… we’re going to try. The Rescue Rangers are officially on the case! Professor, thanks for not getting the WAAT officials involved."

Professor Chinou replied, "I thought you would prefer it. After all, as you said, they might think Gadget-san was a suspect. I have every confidence that you will find the answer."

Chip did a personal inspection of the patched balloon, but found nothing new. The strawberry and banana bubble-gum smell still clung, but any physical evidence had been removed by the repairs. It was a subdued group who returned to their own camp site, with Chip deep in thought. After dinner he suggested, "Let’s set up watches, just to be on the safe side."

Monterey was raking over the ashes of their cooking fire. "But Chippah, Gadget needs a good night’s sleep to be ready for tomorrow."

Chip nodded. "I was about to say, Gadget should be exempt. But I think between the rest of us there’s enough people to stand a watch and give everybody a fair night’s sleep. After all we don’t leave until late morning, having the fastest times."

Dale looked excited as he worried the remains of a hazelnut and garlic cheese pocket. "Neato! I’ll take first watch. No one will get to our planes the way they did the Carp!"

Foxglove spoke up next, then Zipper. "And I’ll take over from Dale." "Zen mee!"

Gadget asked. "But why? Do you have some idea who attacked the Golden Carp and why he would come after us?"

Chip shook his head. "Just a nasty suspicious hunch, and that might just be because I don’t like the guy."

Monty filled it in. "Mouseworthy! But why would that bucktoothed, bandy-legged bozo attack the Golden Carp? It’s Gadget who he’s got the beef with."

Chip sighed, "That’s the problem! As a test run for us, to discredit Gadget, even to try and make Gadget divert to help, none of the explanations make sense if you examine them in detail! There were too many holes. All I know is, I’ll sleep safer knowing we’re watching our own planes."

A figure approached the campsite, lit by the fire and the external lights of the Rangerwing.

"I hope I am not intruding." It was a mouse girl with emerald green eyes and dark fur. She was carrying a backpack.

The group was surprised, but it was Monty who voiced it. "Kimiko-chan? What’re you doing here?"

The mouse girl stepped up close to the group, stumbling slightly. "I caught the last cargo flight across from Tomodachi. After the race finishes, we won’t have much time before we have to go our separate ways. I just wanted to spend as much of the time remaining with you as possible. I thought maybe we could go for a walk along the beach, maybe climb the spire and watch the moon rise. I brought Stilton filled rice balls." Her big emerald eyes pleaded from behind her glasses.

Monty was torn, remembering the watch duties. "Well, I don’t know lass. I’ve got to help out here…"

Chip shook his head. "It’s okay. Go have your fun. We’ll take care of things here." The others quickly endorsed it.

Monty accepted with alacrity, even if he didn’t know what it meant. The two of them quickly went off arm in arm. Zipper stayed behind watching them until they got out of sight.

As they moved away, Foxglove sighed and snuggled into Dale’s shoulder. "It’s so sweet. I think she really likes him."

"Yeah, everyone deserves some happiness." Dale noticed Chip was staring wistfully at Gadget, and of course Gadget was staring at the embers of the fire deep in thought and utterly missed it.

&&&

As they walked towards the beach, arm in arm, Monty and Kimiko shared a companionable silence. They’d talked often enough over the past few days, and gotten to know each other well enough, that Monty didn’t feel the need to fill the space up with random small talk. Clearly Kimiko felt the same way.

Now Monty was not normally the most introspective of people but he was currently wrestling with a problem, namely what to do about Kimiko. While he’d had his share of ‘romantic entanglements’, they’d all been things of the moment, two people having fun, and knowing it wouldn’t last beyond his next trip. That was excepting Desiree, but the less he thought about her, the better. But here, with Kimiko, he’d found something he wanted to keep. He’d always assumed that if there was a girl out there for him, she’d be as tough and adventurous as he was. But on the few occasions where he’d met someone like that, they’d gone their separate ways, sometimes sooner, sometimes later.

He’d never have thought a quiet, stay at home librarian could be his type, but there was just something about her… well he couldn’t pin it down, but when he was around her, it felt like all the adventures he’d ever been on, rolled into one. But the telling point, the one that scared him slightly, was that when he was around her, his cheese attacks didn’t happen. He’d walked past open air stalls selling cheeses from all over the world, something that would normally have had him reaching for his emergency sachet of limburger, but when with Kimiko, he just felt a mild craving. Could it be he’d found something more important than the perfect wedge?

While not a deductive type thinker, he was experienced and had his own type of wisdom. It came down to a few telling points. Was this the real thing, what Dale and Foxy so clearly felt for each other, and might be springing up between Chip and Gadget? Was it something that would last, something beyond the excitement and adventure of discovering each other? He thought it might be, and that Kimiko might feel the same way. But that just opened up what to do about it.

Although he’d settled down after a fashion when he’d joined the Rangers he still adventured as much or even more, though the adventures now came to him. If he went to live with Kimiko, could he settle down to a non-adventuring life? With the best will in the world he didn’t think so. Then there was Zipper, who’d either come with him, leaving a place where he was appreciated and needed to be with a friend who might change, or stay and help the Rangers, probably never seeing Monty again.

He’d not really thought of kids or a family, but in a way that’s how he felt about Zipper, and the rest of the Rangers for that matter. Not that it stopped him from appreciating them as the best pallies a bloke could ever have, but with it came a feeling he was like their uncle, someone they could turn to. As far as Gadget was concerned, it went a bit deeper. With Geegaw gone, he did his best to be a substitute father. He enjoyed the chipmunks’ scrappy determination, Foxglove’s gentleness and joy in life, and of course Zipper’s eternal can do attitude.

It showed the depth of his feelings for Kimiko that he was even considering leaving the only place he’d really called home since he left Australia. The alternative was to ask Kimiko to come live with the Rangers, but that had as many problems. Could she adapt to America, and more importantly the Ranger lifestyle. It was one thing to listen, however eagerly, to tales of adventure, and another to actually go on them. Her clutziness wouldn’t exactly help either.

Or if she stayed out of the adventures, wouldn’t she feel like a spare wheel? Maybe she could help with the ever increasing paperwork load at HQ, or find employment in one of the city’s small animal libraries, but he wasn’t sure he could ask her to give up everything she’d known and follow him half way around the world. He sighed. They were almost at the beach, passing through heavy undergrowth, and Kimiko suddenly let go of his arm and said, "Why such a deep sigh, Monty-kun. Maybe I’m too boring, just walking along?" she said in a joking tone. "Race you to the beach!" She dived off ahead, ignoring Monty’s cry of, "Watch out Kimi-chan!"

She vanished into the growth ahead, crashing sounds diminishing in the distance. Looked like she was in a playful mood, which was normally great fun for him too. However in this case he was worried she might trip, or run into something nasty. He quickened his pace, beating his way forward and trying to find the beach. He burst out onto the white sand, gleaming in the moonlight, but Kimiko was nowhere to be seen.

"Hoi, Kimiko! Fun’s fun lass, but you shouldn’t be out here alone!"

He moved out onto the beach to almost the waters edge, where a falling tide had left rippled ridges about half a mouse’s height. He was careful to watch for crabs and other buried denizens the tide might have left behind. He looked up and down the beach, deserted except for himself. Maybe she’d gotten turned around in the greenery. He felt a slight prick in one arm, like the mosquitoes they’d faced in South America, and looked around for them, curious that he’d heard no buzzing.

Then his legs gave way concertina fashion and he slumped down, resting against a dune. His arms suddenly felt as heavy as lead, and he barely moved one over the ‘sting’ before they gave out altogether. He’d snagged it in barely motile digits and pulled it out, noting it was a wooden blow dart. Natives? Here? From what he’d heard the islands were uninhabited until the WAAT set up their bases.

Then a figure approached out of the greenery (though currently it was more dark greyish greenery) at the edge of the beach. For a second he had the crazy idea it was Foxglove or Dale in costume, but this figure, though wrapped in the almost black, close fitting clothing of a ninja gennin or footsoldier, was moving with a soundless, easy glide, that indicated he was the real thing. Make that kunoichi (female ninja), he thought as she got closer and the curves in her figure became apparent.

A mouse or possibly a small rat he thought, noting the slender, elegant tail. Who could she be working for? Mouseworthy, maybe? Possibly he and Kimiko would be ransomed against Gadget losing the race. That sounded just like the dirty drongo’s style. He tried to speak but it came out slurred.

"Yer boss won’t get away wi’ this! Mouseworthy’s a roight scumbag, and me pallies will find us before you can say ‘Waltzin’ Matilda’. Not ‘at I care what ‘appens to me, but if you’ve ‘urt Kimiko, I’ll pull yer arms off and beat yer to death wi’ ‘ em, lady or no."

The figure now stood in front of him, and for the first time the moonlight illuminated the eyes that stared at him from the space in the cloth hood. They were a brilliant emerald.

"Thank you for your concern, however misplaced, Monterey Jack. I wish it were that simple. But I’m afraid my reason for being here is to complete a mission that goes back to before either of us was born. My task is to kill you, or die trying."

The voice confirmed what he’d seen in the eyes, and it stunned him for a second. He whispered, in an incredulous tone. "Kimiko?"

<Station Break - The plot thickens and congeals… and in the next part we get into _high_ gear!>

Kimiko stood over Monty like a conqueror. It was her, despite the fact her clutziness had utterly vanished, and her padding must have been merely padding, since she no longer carried as many ounces. However, her voice and eyes were the same, and they held a hint of… regret?

"Yes, you deserve to know, though I’m surprised you haven’t guessed."

She folded seamlessly into seiza [kneeling position], but from her poised posture it was clear she was ready to move in an instant.

"I am the last member of the Gengetsu [Crescent Moon] shinobi clan. We are ancient, dating back to the Muromachi period, when we protected gleaners among the rice harvests from the ronnin bandit cats that started to swarm the land. For centuries we stalked those who would harm our kind from the shadows. My grandfather came to power as Jonnin [leader] just before the start of the Pacific war, when it seemed that our traditions were faltering under human industrialisation and all the changes that brought to human and small animal society.

"To save our clan, my grandfather made overtures to a human in Japanese Army Intelligence, an ex-Shinto priest and a known Speaker. Our clan would take on covert missions for the Japanese army in return for a place in the new Japanese Empire that would spring from their conquests. Not everyone agreed with his plans, but the majority followed him, as loyal ninja should.

"Throughout the Pacific war, we performed many tasks, information gathering, sabotage, even assassinations. But there was opposition, the British OSI had Speakers too, and they recruited small animal agents from all over their Commonwealth into ASARAS, Allied Small Animal Reconnaissance and Sabotage. Two of their top agents were Cheddarhead and Camembert, also known as Charles and Kate Colby…" She was watching his eyes as she said this. "You did not know." It was not a question.

Monty hoped to keep her talking. The black, sticky stuff had to be curare, or maybe some similar muscle relaxant, possibly derived from some marine source. Once in the bloodstream it affected the high blood demand large voluntary muscles most efficiently, rendering a victim helpless, but not unconscious. Monty hoped his natural toughness and high muscle mass would allow him to shake off the effects faster than she expected, though what he’d do once he could move, he wasn’t sure.

"No lass, me mum and dad never said, except that they’d taken an oath of secrecy about their part in it. It sounded loike there were some bonzer stories, but they never told me ‘em."

"How honourable." She actually seemed to mean that. "They foiled many of my grandfathers greatest schemes, defeated many groups of gennin [foot soldiers] and in general did more to thwart our cause than a battalion of Allied troops. In many ways, they _were_ the ASARAS as far as my grandfather was concerned. In the last days of the war, when Japan faced defeat and courted surrender, my grandfather decided the only way to reverse things was to focus on assassinating key personnel, like your parents, and humans among the Allied command.

"In August of 1945 he brought together the entire clan to our main meeting house in Hiroshima, to plan the operation code-named Kurokaze [Darkwind]. However, the Americans acted first. In the aftermath of the bomb, many of the clan were struck with varying degrees of radiation sickness, and more importantly despair, when it became clear the radiation had made every clan member sterile, or worse. Mice are, after all, even more susceptible to radiation than humans. The clan fell apart, and grandfather was left with only a few of his most loyal chunin [lieutenants].

"Even though his followers were few, he still tried to implement Darkwind, but it was a disaster. The team sent against your parents never returned, and almost none of the other targets were accomplished. With less than a half dozen with him, all older chunnin, he decided that a long term plan would be needed. But that needed new trainees and there would be none. There was only one possibility for continuing the clan, and he devoted all his remaining resources to pursuing that possibility."

Monty made the obvious comment. "You."

"Just so. My grandmother had been the most capable kunoichi of her generation, and her children could be expected to be as talented. She was one of the ones who disagreed with the plans of my grandfather, and eventually fled, taking her youngest daughter with her. She was good enough to elude the searches of the rest of the clan, and her daughter, my mother, grew up away from the clan, and lived a normal enough life. I was born in 1964, unaware of my heritage. My grandfather found me when I was eight, and exercised his ancient right as head of the clan to take me away and train me as shinobi."

Monty gasped. "Croikey, at eight years old? That’s cruel!"

"But necessary. He and his chunnin were growing old, and they had much to teach me. He renamed me Kurokaze, in memory of the clan’s suffering. I was not a good student at first, wanting my old life back, but I was taught to guard against such weakness." Almost unconsciously she rubbed her paw against her flank, leaving Monty in no doubt as to how the teaching was accomplished, and why he’d never seen her in a bathing suit.

"I learned to be proud of my heritage, and trained hard to become the best I could. After I turned 18 and became a full ninja, I was sent on numerous missions to retrieve lost clan artifacts, and hunt down information on our enemies. Then, five years ago, they finally deemed me ready for the ultimate challenge. Grandfather was the only one left, and he was dying. But his spirit was as strong as ever.

"He’d discovered that you had been born, and conceived a plan to avenge our clan’s destruction with the destruction of your family. I was to seek you out and kill you by whatever means necessary, then carry the news to each of your parents and kill them in their grief. Only then would our clan’s souls be at peace. His last words were ‘A ninja’s life is in death.’ I was to accomplish my mission, or die trying.

"And so began my search, and it was a long one. I traveled to many places, always searching for news of your whereabouts. While I heard many wild stories of your deeds, I could never catch up with you, or find out where you were going next. I learned of your presence at the last Trials long after the fact, and when I finally pursued your association with Geegaw Hackwrench, I found you had separated from him on the island of Zanzibar, and he had no idea where you were.

"You met up with me mate Geegaw?", Monty said, surprised.

"I was just a person who hired his plane for a trip, as far as he was concerned. A most estimable person, and I put the worst possible interpretation on your abandoning him. It was as if you had died after that, I hunted for over a year and a half without picking up any new traces."

Monty sighed. In one of their meetings, the subject of Geegaw had come up, and he’d found himself telling her the story of Zanzibar, something he’d never even told Zipper. "I told ya my side of what happened. I didn’t have a choice, no matter how bad it might ‘ave looked. I guess I did lay low for a bit after that, was kind of a penance fer me."

"I understand, now. I scoured the world for over a year and a half to try and pick up your trail. Just when you seemed to be on the move again, you vanished. I believe now that was when you joined the Rescue Rangers. That once again threw me off your trail, I was looking for a mouse and fly on their own, and you weren’t mentioned by name in the first few tales I heard. It wasn’t until I overheard the name Hackwrench in association with them that things started coming together.

"Seven months ago I was sure that you were a part of that group, and the obvious thing would have been to come to America and make an attempt there. But you were on what was now your home territory, and surrounded by a team that had something of a reputation. I could not afford to attack and fail, as the other teams did against your parents. Instead I came up with a more cautious plan, when I heard the WAAT would be held here. I _knew_ that Gadget would come, and it was a fair bet that you would follow her.

"I set up my ‘Kimiko’ identity with the express purpose of being in the right place to be part of the convention. I even used my original name as an alias to make it feel more real. I spent months insinuating myself into the staff of a library where the manager was a part of the WAAT steering committee, and setting up the conditions that would make them make me go. I would meet you by accident, get to know you and your team, assess the possibilities before striking. I based her on my estimates of your personality, which at the time were none too flattering. You appeared to be a mouse ruled by your appetites, living for the moment, a homeless vagabond interested only in the next piece of cheese, someone I could remove without undue qualms.

"At the time I had no idea what you knew of me or my mission, so I created a thorough, long term disguise. The clumsiness, the glasses, the additional weight were all carefully judged to make myself superficially less attractive, and less of a threat. I couldn’t count on you coming after me, and if a beautiful woman had started throwing herself at you, you might have been suspicious, especially if I had moved as I normally do. But a ‘mousy’ librarian, with a head full of adventure stories and innocence would be an easy target for the sort of person I imagined you to be, someone you could lead along, have some fun with, then leave without regret."

Monty found his fingers were tingling, but did not try and move them. "Sounds loike you ‘ad a pretty low opinion of me."

"Years of conditioning to hate anything associated with the Colby name had something to do with it, and the fact I’d met up with plenty of those kinds of male in my travels. I dealt with such creatures appropriately." She noticed Monty’s expression change. "No, not by assassination, they weren’t my target." Something in her eyes and voice suggested humour. "I allowed them to entice me, and when I was sure of their true intentions, I rendered them unconscious and made sure to hang them up by their tails from the nearest tree, with a suitable sign about their nature in the local language."

Monty couldn’t help but chuckle. "That sounds loike fun." Then he turned more serious. "So everything you did, all the things we shared, that was all just part of your cover?"

"No!" The black clad mouse caught herself and went on. "Why couldn’t you have been like I imagined? A lowlife slob who’s crude advances I’d cleverly parry while planning your doom. I was prepared to be nice to you that first dinner, no matter how grabby and annoying you were, but you weren’t. You were a gentleman, and a wonderful dinner companion. I enjoyed myself more that first night we had together than I had any since my eighth birthday.

"I’d carefully trained to suppress any unnecessary sentiment, anything that would impair my efficiency, but with you it didn’t work. I could no longer hate the real person, rather than my carefully built up fantasy figure. Each day we’ve had together I’ve enjoyed more and more. I tried to make those days as happy as possible, because I knew it would all end. How I wish they didn’t have to."

Monty saw an opening. "Ya _don’t_ have to lass. I won’t say yer grandfather was wrong to carry out what he believed was his duty durin’ the war, or even how he carried it out. War is a roight nasty business, However you go about it. But he did one terrible thing after the war, and that was taking you from your family and turning you into nothing more than an weapon of vengeance. Let the past stay past, and put all that skill to some better use than settling old scores. Be yer own self, and not some bloomin’ robot."

Kimiko sighed. "I _can’t_! My duty is as ingrained in me as strongly as anything can be. I must accomplish my mission, or die, even though it hurts like fire. But I want you to know, I do what I have to for the honour of my clan, and for no other reason. I do _not_ hate you, indeed, I think I might…" She stopped herself., and sighed a weary sigh.

"After this, and reporting to your parents, there will be nothing else I really need to do. I had a foolproof way to cover my tracks planned, but I think instead I may use a more final one, once honour is satisfied." She pulled a finely crafted straight sword, blade blacked with soot, from a sheath across her back.

Monty felt despair. He was sure he could move somewhat by now, but with the poison still in his muscles, he was likely to be as clumsy as she’d pretended to be. Even if he’d been restored to full fighting fitness, he might have second thoughts about attacking. She was no two bit thug waving a weapon around, but highly trained professional from her bearing, both with that sword and martial arts in general.

Still, he prepared himself, ready to dodge the instant she struck, even while he made a last attempt to dissuade her. "Kimiko, you don’t want to do this, or you wouldn’t ‘ave talked so long." He looked right into her eyes. "Just this evening I was wondering if I was in love with yer, and now I’m sure. I don’t want to see you hurt yourself trying to live up to a promise you know is wrong and unfair. You aren’t a killer, lass, and I think, deep down you know it."

For a moment, their eyes were locked, and in that instant, a lifetime passed between them. Then Kimiko raised the sword, pointed at Monty’s throat and… flung it to one side. She slumped to the ground and Monty relaxed. She removed her mask and started making a strange noise, halfway between a sob and a giggle. "You’re right… who would have thought it?… It seems I’m a failure after all… I should have been better trained..."

"Now Kimi-chan, there’s nothing wrong with that…"

Kimiko blazed up, her face wild. "But there is, and there’s only one solution…" She pulled out a vial from her belt and the mask from her face, all in the same action. Monty leaped forward to stop her, but too late. She swigged the contents even as he arrived, her cheeks showing she hadn’t swallowed. Monty then did something he’d never done to a lady before, no matter what the provocation. He punched her in the gut, hoping to force her to spit out whatever she’d taken, before she could swallow it. Black goo sprayed out, and she slumped bonelessly in his arms.

"Too late…" Her voice was slurred and sounded as if her cheeks was full. "A ninja’s life is in death. Since I can’t complete my mission… I must…"

As her voice died away, her breath grew shallower and slower. Monty had instantly identified the stuff as more of the same poison she'd used on him. Obviously it had been the first thing that came to paw. Considering that a single mouse sized dart with the stuff on had put him on the floor, the massive amount she’d taken would relax all her muscles quite thoroughly, including the involuntary ones in her diaphragm and possibly even her heart. But how had it acted so fast? Ingesting it would have done nothing. A quick check of her mouth showed she’d bitten the insides of both cheeks, opening up wounds that let directly into her bloodstream.

She’d been very clever in the brief time allotted to her, but hopefully not clever enough. Monterey Jack was a pretty fair barefoot doctor, having been in enough scrapes and hazards for any three mice. In the main, his medical training had come from two people in his home country. One was a full blooded aboriginal kangaroo rat who’d taught him a great deal of herb lore and nursing. He’d supplemented that with learning from medicine mammals on every continent, which was how he knew about curare’s unusual effects. The other doctor, a very British long nosed shrew, ran a clinic out of an abandoned army ambulance, near Mugwump Flats.

It was this second doctor’s teaching he was drawing on as he laid her down on what a human would have classed as a large pebble, using his jacket to make a headrest. He checked her airway… clear… breathing… absent… heartbeat… non-existent. Her eyes had closed as she’d slipped away, which was something of a relief. She was dead, and his only hope of preventing it from being permanent was to act as a heart lung machine until her body flushed the toxins out of her system. Then, with any luck, her heart and lungs would restart on their own.

He lent over her and started alternating rescue breathing and CPR, mentally blessing that old shrew for showing him the appropriate techniques for a mouse. Press press press… breath, breath… press press press… breath, breath… press press press… breath, breath. The routine became tireless and timeless in the indifferent moonlight. The body grew cool, which was not unexpected, as the curare was probably playing hob with her digestion, but the moonlight didn't allow him to see if her exposed skin was still the healthy pink of living flesh, or a less encouraging pallor.

He would have called out in the night for help, or yelled at her not to give up, to come back, but he needed all his breath to give to her. An hour passed, by the moon’s movement in the sky, and still there was no change. Each time he rested his ear against her chest, nothing. Then suddenly, he could hear something, faint but present. A slow but steady heartbeat. He almost cried with relief. But she still needed assistance breathing, and he gladly provided it until he felt the soft whisper of breath from her lips. She was still unconscious, and would likely be as weak as a kangaroo that had hopped up Ayres Rock, but she was alive again, and showed every sign of continuing to do so.

He sat back on his haunches and whistled a sigh of relief. "Strike me starkers, Kimi-chan, you never do a thing by halves. Now I’ve got ta figure out how to get you out of your honour trap, without anyone else getting killed."

&&&

Dale and Foxglove were still sitting around the fire, toasting some marshmallows to go with a nightcap of hot chocolate. When Monty came into view, carrying Kimiko in his arms, neither of them thought anything of it, apart from ‘Awww.’ But a quick look at his expression in the firelight stopped that.

"Goodness, what’s wrong Monty, is she ill?" Foxglove asked, jumping up.

"Too roight, Foxy lass. I’m gonna need blankets and stuff. Dale-lad, can ya get Chip up, and Gadget? I hate to do it but I’m goin’ ta need help from everyone."

"Sure thing Monty!" The chipmunk bounded off.

With care Kimiko was laid down by the fire, with blankets and pillow. Monty kept checking, but it seemed she was now merely unconscious. He’d found some seaweed from the beach, similar stuff to ‘Swagman’s bandage’, a variety you found on the Australian coast. It concentrated iodine, and made a good natural astringent and antiseptic when crushed. He’d made a pad to work along the insides of her cheeks and assist the healing. Zipper buzzed around worriedly.

He filled in the others on her story, finishing off. "So ya see, I got kinda a problem. Poor Kimi-chan’s stuck on fullfillin’ her duty, but she doesn’t want to, and neither do I fer that mattah."

Gadget was almost in tears. "Golly, it’s terrible! How could they force the poor girl to do those things?"

Dale was looking at the unconscious mouse-girl. "A real ninja! That’d be neat if it weren’t for that whole ‘Get Monty’ thing. Maybe we could make her a Rescue Ranger, even." Foxglove’s wing enfolded him , and he looked over to see her slightly worried. "I was just saying, after all I know how cool you think ninjas are. Maybe she could teach us how to ninj too." That seemed to relax the girl bat.

Chip shook his head. "Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I agree we’ve got to get her out of this stupid promise, but it’s got to be by her rules. Fortunately, I’ve been studying the ways or the people we’ve met. After all, what is criminology about, if not how different people think and react? If there’s one thing I’ve learned from talking to all those Japanese, it’s that their whole mindset is based on duty, and obligation… Hmmm… I think I see a way out, but… Look guys, when she wakes up, let me do the talking. Umm… Gadget, Foxglove, could you check her clothing to see she doesn’t have any other little surprises tucked away?"

Kimiko came around after a couple more hours, her first reaction being surprised that she was. She heard voices, Dale’s for a start. "Hey guys, I think she’s coming to!" Her limbs felt like spaghetti, and barely twitched when she tried to move them, the after effects of her massive overdose of muscle relaxant. There was a salty, bitter taste in her mouth, along with the iron tang of blood. Her eyelids worked, just about, and a blurry mass came into focus, Monty leaning over her with an expression of mixed worry and relief.

"Tooraloo, Kimi-chan, you cut it close there. Don’t try to move, it’ll be hours before yer limbs recover."

"Failed…" she rasped. "Should… used… knife…" Her paw twitched, trying to reach to her belt where a paw sized, cut down needle was stowed, sufficient to end her troubles, once and for all.

"We’ve got everything lass, well not me, it were Gadget and Foxy…" She felt Monty’s paw slide under her head and support it so he could give her a sip of water, not enough to choke on even if she’d had that kind of muscular control. Her voice was better afterwards.

"Why all this? You know my mission, and my only options. Why couldn’t you let me settle things, once and for all?"

"It’s all about you, isn’t it?" This was a new voice, Chip’s, she remembered, and his tone was harsh, and shocking compared to Monty’s gentleness. "Your honour, your duty… your death!"

Monty sounded shocked. "Now, Chipper!"

"Monty, she needs telling! Firstly, you didn’t fail. According to Monty you were dead for at least an hour. No heart action, no breathing, no nothing."

"But how…" she trailed off, her voice genuinely puzzled.

"Monty knows CPR and rescue breathing. But that doesn’t alter the fact you were dead for a time. As I understand it you had to either kill him or die trying. Well, you tried, failed, and died, so honour is satisfied." Chip’s tone clearly had a ‘and that’s that’ ring.

"But I’m still alive! Now I’m back in the same position as I was!" Kimiko sounded exasperated, which was actually a pretty good sign.

"Huh, and here was I thinking that when someone dies, so do their obligations. If Monty had done nothing, you’d probably be resting in pieces in the gullet of some carrion eater by now. You made an honest attempt at fulfilling your obligation the only way you could, and succeeded. You aren’t responsible for what happened after you died, such as Monty reviving you. Kurokaze is dead, and the sooner you accept that, the sooner you can stop trying to take the life of Kimiko Kossori, an eight year old girl who never had a chance to live a normal life."

Kimiko sounded confused. "But… but… That’s just sophistry, playing with words."

"It’s not only that, there are other elements to this. Don’t you think Monty has honour too? Monterey Jack Colby would _never_ let someone die if it were within his power to save them, even if he knew they were sworn to kill him. Indeed, by some interpretations of giri [obligation] he took responsibility for your life by saving it, and the only one you should be listening to is him. Let’s not forget that he cares for you, deeply. Everyone could see it, except possibly you two."

He didn’t see Dale glance back and forth between him and Gadget and mutter something about ‘pots and kettles‘ in Foxglove’s ear.

Chip continued. "Kill yourself now and you ruin his heart and his honour, to salvage yours. You might as well have killed him when you had the chance."

"But… I have to do something! It’s not just my honour, but the honour of my clan!"

"Okay, let’s examine how you clan’s honour would be affected by carrying out your mission. I may not know as much as Dale and Foxy do, but I do know that ninja were originally secret warriors, peasants who took it on themselves to help and protect those who couldn’t protect themselves. They only became the tools of the shoguns and the great lords later on.

"I can understand those original ninjas well, I think. The Rescue Rangers are in the same job, if we had a charter it would probably say something about stopping the crimes that slip through the cracks, helping animals and humans that the authorities can’t or won’t.

Kimiko sounded puzzled, but interested. "But what has this to do with my mission?"

Chip felt encouraged by this and decided to go for broke. "You’re not going to like what I say next, but I think you’re capable of dealing with it. I can imagine how your grandfather felt, that day the bomb fell. I feel the same responsibility every time we go on a mission. He was responsible for gathering the clan there, and he must have felt hideously guilty at the outcome. I’m not sure that I wouldn’t feel the same if something happened to one of the Rescue Rangers. That kind of guilt can kill as surely as a bullet, so he had no choice but to find someone else to shoulder the blame, and who better than his worst enemies, the Colbys?

"The Rangers have met up with plenty of villains who’s initial aims were praiseworthy, but decided the ends justified _any_ means. I think that’s what happened to your grandfather. I’m sure on some level he knew what he was doing to you was wrong, but justified it any way he could, because to admit otherwise would be to admit his own guilt."

Kimiko almost shouted out. "No! Grandfather’s goals was honourable, they must have been!" She subsided in a fit of coughing.

Chip waited until it had died down. "I’m not saying they weren’t originally. But I’ve seen people under far less strain end up making mistakes. People aren’t perfect… I know I’m not. _That_ is why you should have taken a step back, considered the big picture, when you became the last of the clan. Because in effect you became head of the clan. Think back on those ancient traditions you honour, would they truly be served by killing yourself and so destroying the last knowledge of the clan, or destroying a family who’s only fault was being on the opposite side in a war? How does that protect people, or carry on those traditions? A leader must ultimately make these decisions for themselves."

Kimiko’s brow was furrowed. "I had not considered that. I had never considered myself a leader, merely a gennin completing a task." Inwardly, she felt hope for the first time. True, she’d never actually been invested with such authority, but her intensive training qualified her for the position, and nothing in the masses of ancient books of lore she’d learned prevented it. Indeed, by those laws the continuation of the clan was of higher priority than any single mission. And implicitly as the executive of those laws, she had no choice but to follow that prime objective. She must do her duty, but first she must decide how.

Suddenly she hit on a brilliantly simple solution. "Monty-kun, I stopped myself before, because it hurt so much for me to say something. I say it now… I love you…" she blushed and ducked her head. "Did you mean it when you said, you loved me?"

Right at that moment, Monty could no more have hesitated or lied than he could fly without a plane. "That I did, Kimi-chan. I was considerin’ marrying you, but I didn’t think you’d be able to adjust to my lifestyle, and I wasn’t sure I could’ve adapted to settlin’ down. But if you’d said yes, I’d ‘ave tried."

"Then as Jonnin, I can see a way to satisfy honour and give us both what we most desperately desire. Marry me, and join the Colby family to the Gengetsu clan. Make your families strength and honour a part of the clan, and prevent the clan from dying with me. My grandfathers original desire to see our clan survive will be fulfilled, and your family will no longer be a separate entity, so I _will_ have ended your family line, because it will be combined with mine." She felt a wave of relief as a massive weight lifted off her heart.

Monty looked uncertain though. "Kimi-chan, I said I love you an’ I meant it, but I’m a mite older than you, and you could get any bloke your heart desires. Are you sure it’s not just to solve our problems? Do you really want me?"

He was still sitting next to her, and had no time to move back when her arms started to twitch, once, twice, before pushing her up and enfolding him in a hug. She then proceeded to kiss him in a manner that left no uncertainty as to her feelings on the matter.

Zipper bugled happily, and Foxglove held up a pair of number cards saying, ‘4.9’. When the others looked at her she shrugged, and said, "Well, maybe I should take into account that she’s still weak from the poison." She flipped the ‘4’ to reveal ‘5’.

Things happened quickly after that. The noise had finally brought other people to the scene, both other contestants and WAAT officials. Monty explained that Kimiko had trodden on a washed up jellyfish spine while they were out walking and gotten very ill. Fortunately the blankets and fire light disguised the changes in her from the few officials who’d met her before. Chip insisted in flying the pair back to the infirmary Tomodachi island in the Rangerwing, which easily converted into an air ambulance. The two right-hand, rearmost seats folded down into a bunk space, while the middle left hand one became a bedside table.

Monty immediately took his place in the remaining seat where he held Kimiko’s hand all the way back to Tomodachi, and Zipper went with him, to monitor her condition. It was past one in the morning when they reached it, but help quickly arrived to carry Kimiko’s litter to the WAAT buildings. Monty started to go with her, then paused. Chip shoved him on.

"Go on! She needs you." he said quietly.

"But Chippah, You’ll be doing all the piloting fer the ‘Wing solo tomorrah, and you’ll get less sleep tonight than a koala in a swamp full of bullfrogs." Monty wanted to go with Kimiko, but he couldn’t just leave the chipmunk detective after what he’d just done.

Chip shook his head. "I can manage without a relief pilot. I’ll put Dale or Foxglove in the other seat to operate the manipulator arms; they’ve both checked out on Gadget’s construction sphere. Besides, no-one’s better at crane games than Dale." Chip held out a paw and Monty’s own big callused paw engulfed it. "Congratulations, Monty."

"Thanks ta you Chippah. I just want ta say…"

Chip grinned. "Save it. Gadget’s not the only one who’s owed a debt of gratitude by the Rangers, and me in particular. Just try and talk Kimiko out of going ninja on my furry tail for being so rough with her. But I couldn’t see any other way of getting her out of that pit of self pity."

Monty chuckled. "I’ll try, lad. But you know how girls get sometimes…"

"Get outta here, you big Australian cheese-wheel!"

As Chip went off and see about getting the Rangerwing refueled for a return to Checkpoint 3, Monty went eagerly off after the litter carrying Kimiko, with Zipper perched on his shoulder. After all, he and Kimiko had a lot to talk about, and it might just take them the rest of their lives.

Part Four

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