🚀 go-pugleaf

Thursday night...

    Adam Douglas sighed and closed the book.  It was pointless trying to
distract himself--nearly as pointless as it was staying here.  There was
really nothing for him to DO here--he'd gone out and mended some fences,
but he could tell he'd made the ranchhands nervous by just being around, so
he'd ended up going back to the house.
    He hadn't seen Dog or Wolf during the last week or so, but he'd known
they were close by.  He'd felt it.  But they hadn't come near him--perhaps
they'd understood that he needed to be alone.  Whatever.
    Adam put the book down, then turned it over, face down.  The last
thing he needed was to have Dreadnought staring balefully up at him from
the table, reminding him of all the things he'd done wrong.  Adam thought
of Dreadnought's modern-day counterpart and asked himself once again why
the hell he'd followed that guy.  The guy didn't even like him, didn't
like the concept of what he was.  And as if that wasn't enough, in only a
couple of days was the event that Adam had been trying to ignore--the
wedding of Ariella Conner to Robert of Terrania.  That was all he needed,
to start thinking about the identical twin of Sarah Conner, the woman who
he'd helped kidnap and probably hated his guts right now...
    "Argh, ENOUGH!" Adam cried out to the empty room.  "I need to get off
of this angst!  Why can't I just do something, ANYTHING worthwhile?  Just
once.  That's all I ask.  Just once..."  Not bothering to undress, Adam
fell onto the bed and went to sleep.  "...just once..." he murmured one
last time before drifting off.

    The birds were chirping.  It sounded like they were very close--maybe
in a tree over his head.  Damn birds, go away and let me get back to
sleep.
    Waitaminnit.
    They shouldn't be this loud.  I shouldn't even hear them through the
walls.
    And why is there a breeze?
    Adam Douglas opened his eyes.  The first thing he saw was grass.  Lush
grass, on the ground in front of his face.  Lush grass of the kind that
generally did not grow at the ranchhouse near Garrett Falls, Nevada.  The
next thing he saw was the edge of the down sleeping bag he found himself
lying in.
    Adam rolled over onto his back and looked around, blinking his eyes to
adjust to the sunlight.  He saw a few more things, such as the blue sky,
filled with fleecy white clouds, overhead.  The trees around the clearing
in which he was lying in in his sleeping bag.  His backpack which he'd
never unpacked upon getting home, leaning up against one of those trees.
    The post-it note stuck to his sleeping bag.
    Adam pulled one of his arms out of the sleeping bag and grabbed the
note.  His eyes flicked back and forth as he scanned it, and his jaw
slowly dropped.  He looked around him again with new comprehension, then
stared up into the sky and breathed two heartfelt words:
    "Thank you."


                     ADAM DOUGLAS: PRELUDE TO MATRIMONY

                             By Robotech_Master

                Constituting a precursor to the much-awaited
                        Terranian Wedding crossover

                  Guest-starring Mike and Lincoln Douglas
                      (formerly from Team M.E.C.H.A.)


Friday morning...

    "Join Bunzai Pizza and see the world," the ad had said.  Well, Jay
Franklin had to admit that he was here.  On a whole other continent from
Chicago, where he'd started out.  And he liked it okay...though of course,
nothing could compare to his home town.
    Jay felt honored that Bunzai had been the first "fast food" firm
invited into Terrania, and that they would be catering Princess Ariella's
wedding.  He was glad that he'd been put in charge of their franchise
here--it had included a promotion, after all, and consorting with royalty
was nothing to sneeze at.  And if they couldn't use any of their normal
methods of delivery (by royal edict, use of gas-motor vehicles was subject
to royal approval, and such approval was not granted lightly), that simply
made it a bit more of a challenge.  And Jay Franklin loved a good
challenge.
    But the local help...well, it left a great deal to be desired.
    "Wash your hands!" Jay yelled for the eight time that day at an
employee.  "I don't CARE if that's not how you do it at Fenwick's Bakery,
that's how you do it here!  If you want to continue to work for me, you
don't come into this kitchen without clean hands!"
    Franklin walked out of the kitchen to the front counter.  "Geez," he
muttered.  "You'd think that mentality would have died out during the
Dark Ages."
    "Yeah, well the Dark Ages tend to last a long time in a place like
this."
    Franklin looked up, surprised to hear another American accent in a
place like this.  He saw someone standing in the doorway, a dark, bulky
silhouette against the morning sunlight coming in from the east.  As the
man stepped inside, Franklin saw it was a boy of 18 or 19, wearing blue
jeans, a sweatshirt, and a large frame backpack.  He had blond hair and
piercing blue eyes, a confident stance and a friendly grin.  "Hi," he
said, stepping forward and holding out his hand.  "I'm Adam."
    "Jay Franklin."  Jay took Adam's hand and shook it.  He had a firm
grip--obviously no pushover.  "What are you doing in these parts?  Here
for the wedding?"
    "Yeah, you might say that."  Adam unslung his pack and set it down
next to the door.  "I was walking into this medieval village and was a
bit surprised to see an American-style pizza place out here.  Figured I'd
better come in and check it out."
    "Welcome to Bunzai's Terrania," Jay said.  "Official caterers to the
Terranian royal wedding.  What can I do for you?"
    "Got anything for breakfast?" Adam asked.  "You wouldn't believe how
much travelling I've done lately."
    "Sure...hold on just a minute and I'll get you a slice of our
Breakfast Special."
    "Great.  Um..."  Adam rummaged in his pockets.  "Will you take
American dollars?"
    "Sure thing."  Jay served up the slice and made change for Jay out of
the special cash register.  A recent invention, this special register was
used exclusively in foreign franchises and had all of four cash drawers,
each containing a different kind of currency.  In this case, the top
drawer was Terranian, and the next lower drawer was American.
    Adam sat down at a nearby table and ate the pizza, which, being a
breakfast pizza, had the usual sort of things you expect to find in a
breakfast dish...eggs, bacon, cheese, and the like.  As might be expected,
it was a thoroughly excellent and satisfying breakfast.
    As Adam was finishing up, a horizontal bike (the kind with the smooth
fiberglass shell that routinely gets tickets for breaking the speed limit
all the time) painted in Bunzai's livery pulled up outside and a
Bunzai-uniformed delivery boy climbed out and dashed in.  "To where should
the next delivery be taken?" he asked in a Terranian accent.
    "The ultralite launch site on Mt. Conner," Jay replied, handing him a
stack of six pizza boxes.
    The delivery boy groaned.  "I have to pedal all the way up THERE
again?"
    "Damn straight," Jay said.  "If you don't like it, there are dozens
of other Terranians waiting to fill your shoes."
    "I'm going, I'm going..."  The Terranian youth grumbled, but carried
the boxes carefully out to the bike and settled them in the
shock-absorbing, gyro-stabilized carry case bolted to the back of the bike
and took off shortly thereafter.
    "Ultralite launch site?" Adam asked.  "Is that how you deliver over
here?"
    Jay nodded.  "Yeah.  The electric motors are nonpolluting, doesn't
scare the wildlife, and complies with Her Highness's edicts."  He grinned.
"And they're as impressive as hell (TM), too.  I think some people have
been ordering pizza just to watch the things land."
    "Um...I'm curious about one thing," Adam said.  "Exactly how CAN
people order pizza in a place like this with no telephones?"
    "That was a problem we had to overcome ourselves when we came here,"
Jay said proudly.  "We stationed a Bunzai customer representative with a
shortwave radio in different parts of the country--it was my idea.  When
someone needs to make an order, they simply go to their nearest customer
rep, and he calls it in.  We can usually get the pizza to them within
forty-five minutes to an hour.  Not quite as good as stateside, but we're
working on it."
    "I see.  How many ultralite pilots you got?"
    "Just two, so far," Jay said.  "We're trying to see if we can get
another--we need more delivery crew, at least for the duration of the
wedding."
    "I'm your man," Adam Douglas said.  "I'm ultralite trained, qualified,
and licensed.  I've got about 200 hours of flight time logged, too.  I
could be another delivery pilot, at least while the wedding's on."
    "Hmm...have you done delivery work before?" Jay asked.
    "No...but I'm a fast learner."
    Jay sized him up.  He seemed mature, responsible.  Something about him
was vaguely familiar, but he couldn't put his finger on it.  His hunch was
to go for it, and Jay usually followed his hunches.  "You're hired."
    "Great.  I can start immediately--I just need a place to stay."
    "You can bunk with the rest of the crew in the building out
back--there's several spare beds."
    "Cool.  I'll just put my stuff there, and then I can get started."
Adam walked out the back door in the direction indicated, pack on his
shoulder.  Jay nodded, and then went back to the kitchen to yell at the
workers some more.  Everything had to be ready this afternoon, when
Bunzai's head pizza chef, Pete, arrived to begin preparations for the
royal wedding.


Friday afternoon...

    The red and black Bahamode motorcycle turned off of the county road
and headed into the forest.  Within a hundred feet or so, part of the
ground dropped away into a ramp which the Bahamode followed, leading down
into a vehicle bay which held various other vehicles and mecha.  The
mechabike did not stop, proceeding instead into a vehicle-sized corridor
which led into another, larger bay, this one comparing favorably in size
to a jumbo-jet hangar.  In the center of this hangar, a jumbo-jet-sized
airplane waited.
    The Bahamode pulled up and its engine shut off.  The rider, clad in a
red and black motocross-style riding suit, climbed down and took off his
helmet.  As he did so, a brown-haired youth stepped out from behind the
jet's landing gear to greet him.  "Hey, Mike!  Great to see you again!"
    "Lincoln Douglas!" Mike said, setting his helmet on the bike's seat.
"Nice to see you, too!  How have you been?"
    "Oh, a bit depressed over all the stuff we've been going through,"
Link said.  "My brother going berzerk and shooting you, the team breaking
up, all that.  But I'm getting over it."
    "Um, that's good."  Mike looked away for a moment, unsure of what he
should say.  It had been his decision to step down from leading it that
had caused the team to break up, and in some respects he still blamed
himself for driving Adam Douglas away.  That had been one of the reasons
he'd not wanted to come back to this place--it would only serve to remind
him of all that he'd tried to leave behind by resigning.  But he'd made a
promise, and he had to honor his word.  "Have you heard from anyone else
yet?"
    "Well, Teen Team is coming with us," Link replied, checking a handcomp.
"And I think Hero Patrol is going to need a lift over there, too.
Scholarman won't be coming, ditto Defense Squad--it's too bad, it would
have been nice to talk to Superuser again--and the ALU--they're still
recovering from the Revolution..."
    Mike interrupted.  "Brief me while we're in flight.  Is Dr. Science
aboard?"
    Link looked up.  "What?  Oh, yes, he's in the laboratory."
    "Good."  Mike climbed back onto the Bahamode and put his helmet on.
"I'll meet you in the cockpit."


    Adam Douglas placed the four "Ye Olde Supremo Speciale" pizzas in the
ultralite's air-tight, insulated, shock-proof carrybox and locked it
tight.  Pulling his helmet on, he strapped himself into the seat just in
front of the box and hit the contact switch for the electric motor.  The
propellors on the back of the Bunzai Ultralite spun to life with that
eerie near-silent whir that sometimes caused Adam to have to look back to
make sure the thing was operating.
    The motorized hang-glider began to move forward, slowly at first, then
faster.  And then it shot over the dropoff, and was in the air.
    Adam Douglas loved this part of the job.  He'd forgotten how fun it
could be to fly ultra-light aircraft, especially over challenging terrain
such as Terrania.  Flying ultralites had been part of Adam's paramilitary
training by his father--ultralites and hang-gliders were often used to land
special forces troops at their destinations without being detected.  As for
being fun...well, that was just a fringe benefit.
    It was so peaceful up here...he could forget his troubles for a little
while, at least until it was time to land.  "Maybe life isn't so bad after
all..."
    "You're darn right it's not."
    "Bwa?!"  The voice so startled Adam that he almost lost control of the
ultralight.  He looked up to notice a small cloud floating along to the
right of the ultralite, keeping pace with it.  And sitting on top of that
cloud, very nearly the same color, was a shaggy Great Pyrenees.  "Oh.  Hi,
Dog."
    "So, you reconsider your decision?"
    "Decision?"
    "About becoming a shaman."
    Adam shook his head.  "It's not for me.  I could never be a magic-user
of any sort.  I'm just not meant to."
    "You could be wrong about that, you know," Dog said.  "It could be
that a shaman is exactly what you're meant to be.  Who better than a user
of magic to protect mankind from other users of magic?"
    Adam thought about this for a moment.  "No...I can't, don't you see?
If I were going to learn magic, it would mean rejecting everything I
believe in."  And admitting that everything I did was totally wrong.  But
wait...didn't he believe that already?
    "Stop confusing the issue," a new voice said, from Adam's left.  A
voice that sounded remarkably like Jack Nicholson.  Adam didn't even have
to look to know that Wolf had now appeared.  But he did anyway, and
noticed that Wolf was riding on a dark gray cloud, pretty close to the
color of his pelt.  "Get out of here, Dog, he belongs to me."
    Dog shook his head.  "Leave us alone, Wolf.  The boy is not one of
yours."
    "Hold on a minute!" Adam said, looking back and forth.  "I don't
belong to either one of you, I belong to myself."
    Wolf snorted.  "Ha.  You think."
    "What is THAT supposed to mean?" Adam asked angrily.
    "What my brother means," Dog said, "is that you're going to have to
choose one of us, whether you become a shaman or not.  Otherwise, we'll
both be bound to you, and you can see the friction it's starting to
cause."  Dog gestured with a paw, and Adam noticed the rather ominous
storm front that was starting to roll in from the west.
    "What's going on?" Adam asked.  The air was beginning to get
decidedly colder.
    "My brother is being an obstinate fool, that's what," Wolf drawled.
"Leave us, Dog, and stop meddling where you don't belong."
    "When two of us are in direct physical conflict, it starts to mess with
the natural balance of things," Dog said.  "This is part of why we
ordinarily can't physically affect reality, to avoid causing this sort of
thing.  Gets the Ceaseless pissed off at us to no end..."
    "The who?" Adam asked.
    "No, that's Pete Townshend's band.  I'm talking about the Ceaseless.
And cut it out, that joke is getting old."
    "Wait a minute, wait a minute.  You're saying I've got to choose one
of you?" Adam asked, gripping the stick firmly to hold his course against
the rising wind.
    "That's right," Dog said.
    "And if I choose one of you..." Adam said.
    "...then the other has to leave you alone," Wolf said.  "So, you gonna
make your choice?"  The storm front was creeping closer, with forks of
lightning plunging out of it to stab into the ground.  Adam estimated he
had maybe five minutes before he was in it.
    "All right, then..." Adam said, looking back and forth at them.  "I
choose...Dog."  The word was punctuated by a nearby sound of thunder, the
explosive percussion rolling across them, off into the distance.
    Wolf stood.  "Looks like you won, brother."  He looked at Adam.  "No
hard feelings, kid?"
    "Uh, no," Adam said.  "None."
    "Good.  I'll see you again someday...count on it."  Adam wasn't sure
he liked the gleam in Wolf's eye, but didn't think it was anything worth
being upset over.  Wolf sank into the cloud, and a few moments later it
dissipated, leaving nothing behind.  The ominous storm front also
dissipated in a matter of moments, leaving almost-clear skies behind it.
Adam breathed a sigh of relief.
    "He can't help being the way he is, you know," Dog said.  "No more
than can I.  It's in our natures."
    "Oh?" Adam asked.
    "Yeah.  The creatures we derive from influence us.  Wolf's
protogenitors were wild, undomesticated hunters, who followed the pack or
died.  Those tendancies were bred out of my protogenitors, replaced by
loyalty to mankind and a gentler nature.  Neither of us can change what we
are, nor would we want to."
    "Huh," Adam grunted.  "So what happens now?"
    "What happens now is that I'm supposed to teach you how to use that
magical ability which is innate within you.  Show you how to summon and
manipulate spirits."
    Adam shook his head.  "Not this guy."
    "I could take drastic measures, you know," Dog said.  "Call up a
spirit, set it against you, and force you to use your powers or be
destroyed."
    Adam looked askance at Dog.  "You could..."
    "If I felt that the ends justified the means," Dog said.  "But I do
not, and so I can't.  The end doesn't justify the means, Adam.  It rarely
ever does."
    "The ends don't justify the means..." Adam murmured.  He thought about
his recent actions, and looked down at his feet.  "I think you're right
about that, Dog.  I think you're right."


                       DO THE ENDS JUSTIFY THE MEANS?

                      DOES THE MEANS JUSTIFY THE END?

                   BY BEING MEAN, WILL WOLF MEET HIS END?

              WHAT WILL MIKE FIND WHEN HE ARRIVES IN TERRANIA?

                   WHAT'S GOING TO HAPPEN AT THE WEDDING?


 Tune in, in just a few short days, for Terranian Wedding Album, only here.
                              Only on SUPERGUY

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