Whoa! You're still here! Guess I'd best get on with it.

I still don't own any of the stuff you saw on TV.

04 – ARRcane Knowledge

Monty Fiske was, by training, an archaeologist; a world renowned expert on ancient languages, writing, and culture. He had found monkey temples on every continent, even those with no actual monkeys; ancient cultures seemed to revere, respect, or fear the monkey to almost the same degree as the dragon. Monkey Kung Fu was only part of the puzzle; the Asian monkey phenomenon ran in parallel to similar concepts, large and small, across the world. The common theme Fiske kept returning to was the island, and its mysterious queen; a creature neither human nor monkey, whose rage had destroyed civilizations throughout history. It took all his research to glean the location, the circumstances, and the timing. It haunted his career; the ultimate goal, to find this mythic being, and perhaps learn the secrets of her awesome power.

When he arrived upon the storied rock, it seemed like a dream. Even the presence of his dreaded new bride and her twisted monkey mockeries could not distract him. The temple had no clever defenses; the island itself was defense enough. The great brass monkey, the cauldron, and the very temple walls were carved with secrets, secrets of which the other temples had held only small extracts and recountings. The secrets of Queen Simia, however, remained hidden; she was nowhere to be found. All Monty did find was a message, in an inscrutable ancient writing; instructions for the queen's revival. He pored over the text, struggling to decode the language. It held elements in common with the oldest forms of writing, but it was thick in both content and context. After a week of toil, he finally felt confident in his solution, and set about gathering the ingredients he would need. One ingredient, however, could not be found on the island. Until, that is, his scouts reported the presence of his two greatest enemies in the jungle.

He found a way to kill two birds with one ancient ritual.

"Indeed, Kim Possible, your honor will be the greatest of all! Your flesh shall be home to an ancient and powerful creature the likes of which has never been equaled! In your body, Queen Simia will be reincarnated!" Fist cackled and pounded his chest, as the mystical green flames under the cauldron flared. A great hinged drawbridge extended like a diving platform over the noxious stew, which itself began to steam into a heady glowing fog.

"What'll happen to me?" Kim cried out.

"Who knows? For that matter, who cares? Now, as it is written in the ancient stone tablets: arise, oh cauldron of life!" he lifted his hands, as the flames arced up to the open ceiling. The assembled monkeys hooted and jumped in place. "Make clear the path for the return of the monkey mistress, mighty Queen Simia!" With a gesture, he summoned his minions. A mob of monkey ninjas took Kim from her disk, and carried her to the precipice over the cauldron.

Ron's mind raced. Kim's in it deep this time! No gadgets to save her. I'm no better off, without Rufus I can't break free! Got to buy some time. Need a distraction. Need to think –ah crap! That's like Ron Kryptonite! Come on, fate! Do me a solid!

"Do not fear, you meddlesome brat. You will soon possess great power over life itself!" Fist waited for the ritual's energy to peak. Any moment now."

"You want to give that kind of power to me?" Kim asked, stalling for time as she struggled to slip her bonds. "That's a tad risky, considering how I, you know, hate you and all. Why don't you do it to yourself?"

"The ancient text was very clear." Fist held up the rubbing of the carved glyphs he was using as a crib-sheet. "These symbols are unmistakable. Queen Simia needs a good old fashioned virgin sacrifice!"

Kim winced. Oooh! Irony tastes bad!

Ron busted out laughing; a low chuckle at first, building over time. Fate, you my boy!

"And what is so funny, monkey-phobic fool?" Fist knuckled over to Ron. "I'm about to offer your lifelong companion's soul to the abyss, making her the flesh-puppet to an ancient tyrant!"

"Old Queenie won't be too pleased, Monty. She'll be buying used!" Ron slyly insinuated.

"Wait, you mean… she's not…" Monkey Fist glanced back and forth between Kim, bound helplessly by the edge of the platform, and Ron, still tied to his giant brass wheel.

"Kim and I recently joined the player's club," Ron lied, "I did most of the playing. Warranty void if seal is removed! All Ron-serviceable parts, inside! You have really bad timing."

"No! No, it's not true!" Fist went back to Kim, and edged up close. "Is it, Possible? Is this boasting fool speaking the truth? Did you give your virtue to that gibbering moron?"

Kim started to tear up, "Ron, how—how could you say that!"

"Aha! I knew it!" Fist said triumphantly.

"How could you brag about our sex life in front of an evil madman?" Kim played along. "After all the things I've done for you, and let you to do to me!"

"Sorry, babe! I just can't contain my overwhelming love for nailing you!" He winked at his partner, who at this point was almost free of her ropes.

"I can't believe this! You, and that ignorant wretch, making 'Blue Lagoon' on this sacred island! You're tainted; useless to me now!" Fist looked down at the pool. The ghostly humanoid shape of Queen Simia was just barely visible. "Well, maybe she'll take a slightly-used body. It's too late to stop, don't you agree…" He turned back towards Kim; he found an empty pile of rope. He snapped his head over in Ron's direction. He was likewise in a state of not-thereness.

"Oh, no. No!" He called out to his minions. "Monkey ninjas! Find them, now!" The room cleared of simian soldiers. Fist looked back to the cauldron; the fury of the flames grew more intense. "Oh, dear. You'd think an immortal spirit would be more patient."

Kim and Ron clung together, as they slid down the side of the tower on a long vine.

"Quick thinking there, Casanova!" Kim admonished her boy. "You managed to convince Monkey Fist I have loose morals!"

"Hey, it's not like we care what he thinks; oh, and you're welcome."

The two teens hit the ground, and took off running for the long stone staircase leading to the jungle below. The sun rose higher overhead.

Monkey Fist grew nervous. The flames sprouted higher and higher into the air. The resurrection ritual had to be completed; an ancient and powerful entity was looking to check in to the living world, and the reserved room was out of order.

"Sweetie-monkey!" Amy called as she climbed the stairs, with a big plate of cookies. "There you are. Oh, goody! Fireworks!"

"Not fireworks, Amy! And must you bother me, I'm in a jam!" He paced nervously, loping back and forth. "Kim Possible ruined my plan, by being a filthy little tart!"

"Hmph. That girl, the way she dresses, it's no surprise. She hasn't saved herself for the man she marries, like I did!" Amy said smugly.

"Oh. So, you're still a…"

"You'll be my first, Monkey-Doodle!" Amy tweaked his nose.

Fist looked at Amy. Then at the cauldron. Then back at Amy.

Fist held his wife's hand. She giggled sweetly. With an unceremonious shoulder throw, Fist rolled his unsuspecting bride into the flaming column of light and smoke.

A rising arc of green energy grabbed her from the air, and held her suspended over the cauldron. Her tiny eyes glowed with an eerie light.

The brightness grew. Monty covered his eyes, and turned away. A moment later, there was silence. He peeked cautiously through his fingers, as Amy levitated down to stand on the dais.

Saying nothing, she raised her hand. One of the great brass disks flew across the room, and stopped near her. She examined herself in the reflective surface.

Monty then heard her say, in an outmoded dialect he barely understood, "Oh, this is some serious gorilla-dung right here!"

Amy, or what had been Amy, picked Monty up by the collar and shook him. She shouted a bunch of words he couldn't comprehend. Then, suddenly, she stopped and lapsed into English. "Oh, ever so sorry, Monty. I sometimes get disoriented after a resurrection, and it takes a bit of time to muddle through the new memories."

"Of course, your majesty. No harm done," Monty gasped, choking for air. "I can understand how you might be upset."

"Upset?" Simia asked. "Upset? I'll show you upset!" She picked him up again, and shouted directly into his face, "Why am I in the body of some chubby, middle-aged pseudo-sorceress? Were my instructions not clear enough?" She tossed him at the far wall, about twenty feet away. "I swear, every time I return the cultists get lamer and lamer!"

Monty nimbly bounced off the wall, and landed on his feet. "But I followed the carvings to the letter, Amy was the only virgin I had available!" The monkey-man held up his rubbing of the wall glyphs.

"Virgin?" Simia closed the gap in a single leap, and snatched the paper away. "This doesn't say 'virgin', idiot! It clearly translates as 'young woman of strength and vitality'! By the gods, you people must be obsessed with sex! And given that I'm the queen of all monkeys, well, that's saying something!" She pulled back a fist, which began to glow and pulsate with energy. Monty was lifted into the air by unseen forces, and locked in place. "I'll put you out of your self-imposed misery, prudish fool!" The light grew brighter. Simia was about to strike, but she paused. "Wait, where're the others?"

"Others?" Monty choked out. "What others?"

"The other disciples; don't tell me it's just you!" Simia released him, and he crumpled to the floor. "Well, this is just great. How can I make you an example for the others if there are no others?" She wandered back over to the edge of the platform. "I guess you get a pass this time, Monty. Count yourself lucky. Worst resurrection ever." She sat and sulked for a few seconds, then suddenly stood up, brightened up, and made a very Amy-like pronouncement. "Oh, well. No sense crying about it; I'd better get cracking on re-establishing my power base! But first, a little home improvement!"

Simia levitated herself out over the cauldron, as it sprang back to life. "First the peepers, these just won't do." A carving of a ring-trailed lemur on the wall glowed bright, and two golden spheres shot forth from it. They circled the room, and impacted her eye sockets in a flash of light. She blinked, and revealed to Monty the large, yellow eyes of the nocturnal creature.

"Next, the hair. I'm thinking auburn." Red energy flowed from a carving of an orangutan. The hair on Amy's head and arms changed hue, as the tresses on her head flowed out to over four feet in length. They floated about her as if weightless.

"And to take out the trash…" Drawing energy from a baboon icon on the frieze, Simia bent into the fetal position, and began to change. Layer upon layer of adipose tissue seemed to melt, as if Amy's body was starving to death before Monty's very eyes. When it was over, she stood five-feet eleven, with the lean, toned physique of a champion gymnast. Her muumuu was now far too big to stay on her shoulders, and it slipped off into the cauldron below. Three blue stripes appeared on each of her cheeks.

"One more detail…" A spider-monkey idol emitted a long rope of energy. It came to root itself in the small of Simia's back, coiled around her as she twirled in mid-air, and formed into an eight-foot prehensile tail.

Monty couldn't quite get his head around it. His mouth stood agape as a hauntingly stunning creature emerged from Amy's body like a butterfly leaving a chrysalis. He said nothing as she alighted on the platform, and strode over to where he stood. He could only stammer as she ran her tail under his chin.

"Be good, Monty, and I'll see about getting you a tail of your own." With a wave of her hand, a clutch of vines and trees sprouted from a bare spot on the floor, forming into a massive throne of living plants. Seemingly unaware of her own nakedness, or perhaps simply unashamed, she gracefully seated herself. "On to business: follow your forces out into the jungle, and stop those two young pups. Your wife seems to remember them as being very troublesome." A single banana sprouted from a hanging vine near Simia's shoulder. The skin peeled itself back, and the queen took an aggressive bite.

Monty stammered a bit. "As—as—as you wish, your royal majesty, at once!" His courtly training came through in the clutch. "Monkey Ninjas, to me!" He bounded out the window, calling after his minions already on the chase.

Makorilla had sat by patiently; his mommy's look may have changed, but his shark's nose knew who to trust. He came right up to Simia, and sniffed at her hand.

"Oh, dearie me; you are a big, strapping one. And a swimmer: most monkeys just don't do water. I must hand it to this Amy; she had an understanding of the inner workings of life on par with – well, me! Let's make some brothers for you, okay?" Simia gently pulled a single tooth from his mouth, one of about two hundred, and cast it into the cauldron. A blaze of light shot out, and deposited seven exact duplicates of Makorilla on the dais. "Okay, boys; head out to the open sea, and attack any vessels you find! Let the world know; Simia's back on top!"

The shark-ape creatures bounded down the stairs, and charged out into the water. The twisted pack of predators made for the ocean depths at full speed, ready to consume all who stood in the way of their beloved queen mum.

Back on the DisRev, the small human portion of the pirate crew enjoyed a rest. Polly's expert evasion tactics had kept the GJ searchers off-track, but daytime was a good time for the pirate sub to lay low. The sub sat on the ocean floor in a shallow trench, and the pirates kept their cool.

Junior napped, but his sleep was fitful. He was never sure when and where Bonnie might get the itch, and come looking for him.

Senior set about practicing his organ again, still with little success. Bonnie read a book from Senior's library, The Gentleman's Guide to Death-Traps. The fitful cries of the beleaguered instrument distracted her. "Geez, Captain, lay off that poor music! What did sound ever do to you?" She hopped up on the bench, and slid Senior aside with a quick hip thrust. Bonnie threw herself at the keys, gliding through an accelerated rendition of the opening movement to Beethoven's Fifth.

Senior was a little too surprised to be cross. "Where did you learn to play like that?"

"Well, y'know, had to fill the time at ballet class when my legs got tired." Bonnie tickled out a few more choice notes.

"Well, I was moved. It was as if the room had been shaken." Senior applauded her.

Actually, the room had been shaken. What had been a low rumbling in the bulkheads grew louder, as Bonnie worked to say in her seat.

Polly came over the PA. "Warning: engineering section compromised. Intruder alert."

Bonnie straightened her askew blouse, and stood. The ship had shifted, giving the floor a slight tilt.

Polly gave a direct address to the command staff. "Engineering reports a thrown rod in one of the MHD pumps, and a failed seal on one of the main launch tubes in the aft bay. The whole section's taking on water."

Rufus dashed through a bulkhead hatch, just as it sealed itself. Good work, man, he thought to himself. Section's flooded, they'll never be able to get back there to fix it. Yep, these dudes are out of the pirate business…

He walked absentmindedly into a standing cluster of Mateys. He had just enough time to screech before a heavy diving helmet clamped down over him.

A few minutes later, Rufus was in a bind. The old helmet rested the bottom of a salt-water aquarium, fed with a trickle of compressed air. The water was filled with carnivorous fish, and fine metal netting stopped them (or him) from jumping out of the tank. Senior stood on the outside of the glass, gloating. "Ha ha, my little naked saboteur. A clever attempt. Polly, how fare the repairs?"

"Almost done, sir. His plan was admittedly quite sound, but the rodent seems to have forgotten that our crewmen can't drown." Polly smugly summed up.

Rufus swatted his own forehead. Oh, right! Robots!

"I never really liked this little buck-toothed pest." Bonnie stared at Rufus through layers of glass and water. "Can they make accessories from rodent hide?"

"Well, ermine coats are made from weasels, but they have fur," Senior said.

"A wallet, perhaps?" Junior chimed in. "Ooh, or a mobile case!"

"All interesting ideas, but we have a bigger problem." Polly displayed a chart of the surrounding ocean. We don't have the compressed-air reserve to empty the aft section. To complete repairs, we need to take on fresh atmosphere."

"Make it so, Miss Polly." Senior glowered at Rufus. "And while we are on the surface…"

A few minutes later, out on the deck, Rufus stood precariously on the far end of a yardstick suspended over the water.

Senior brandished a dinner knife at the tiny condemned. "Any last squeaks, rodent?"

Rufus gave the assembled a raspberry. He bravely turned to face the sea, but froze when he saw a dorsal fin break the surface.

Bonnie held her head in her hands. "This is getting just a touch pathetic. Can we just chuck him overboard, already?"

"I thought you were a traditionalist, Miss." Senior retorted.

"What's traditional about executing a rat?" Bonnie shot back.

Rufus edged back onto the deck, and watched three more fins appear.

"Please, stop fighting! It pains me so!" Junior whimpered.

"See, look what you've done! Now the boy's upset!" Bonnie huffily turned towards the ocean. Just in time, to see a massive Makorilla leap from the sea, straight at her.

Bonnie fell to her back as the beast pinned her to the deck, angling for a clean bite to her neck. She felt a primal fear that silenced her razor tongue. All she could do was wait the agonizing seconds for the end…

It didn't come. The creature reeled back, hissing out a hoarse cry of pain. Bonnie could see the little, pink sidekick's-sidekick, clinging to the Makorilla's gill slits by his immense rodent teeth. Bonnie rolled aside, and kicked the monster in the back of the knee, bruising his flimsy, cartilage skeleton.

Rufus dropped to the deck, and scampered aside as a massive webbed foot-hand hit the spot where he had landed.

Senior finished the "being surprised" portion of the ambush. "Well, then. Sea monster fight beats rat planking any day. Junior! Repel boarders!"

"Yes, father, let us craft a delicious soup from their fins, and throw the rest of the carcasses away!"

"My son, we are villains, not monsters!" Senior caught a Makorilla off guard with his net gun, opening the entangling device inside the monster's open mouth. As it struggled and choked, two more mounted the deck.

The launch tubes in the forward part of the ship slid open, and a volley of projectiles fired weakly upwards, barely high enough to clear the tubes. The Mateys unfolded onto the deck, and sprang forth in force to take on the monsters.

The battle was chaotic, as man, woman, rodent, and robot fought monster on the deck and in the sea. The Mateys had the numbers, but the Makorillas had the strength. One unlucky robot had its head swallowed whole by a confused creature; both found the experience unpleasant overall.

Polly's avatar appeared by Senior's head. "Sir, recommend retreat below decks. I'm reading at least four more organic contacts, and I can't fight them properly with you in harm's way."

"Fine. Junior! Young lady! Get to the hatch!"

Junior slipped below first. Bonnie turned to run, but hurriedly caught up her pink rescuer, and concealed him in the folds of her ruffled blouse. "Don't read into this, Mickey. I just pay what I'm owed."

She slid through the hatch, with Senior close behind. Polly turned her sensors to the action up-top. "So, who feels like becoming the world's biggest sushi boat?"

A panel on the deck slid back, and the ship's anti-missile-turret deployed into view. The mystical monkey monsters didn't know quite what to make of it. All the Mateys hit the deck in a synchronized dodge, as fifty rounds a second cut through the creatures' massed bodies like a hot knife through salmon. Most fell down in bleeding piles, but a few were only clipped, and wisely made tracks for the sea.

Back in the command deck, the assembled watched the action on the view screen.

"Hah!" Bonnie called out, "Suck on that, shar-apes. Or ape-arks. Whatever!"

"Five targets neutralized; three turning tail, retreating at twenty-five knots, bearing zero-three-niner," Polly reported.

"Can we catch them?" Bonnie asked.

"At current damage levels, we can just barely keep up. They are really moving."

"Best speed to intercept!" Bonnie brashly called out, only to catch a glare from Senior. She sweetly batted her eyes, asking, "I mean, please, Captain, may we hunt down the rest of the sharkey-things, please?"

"Very well; they task me, and they shall be eliminated." Senior settled into his chair. "Engage!"

Might as well call it there. Doesn't seem like four months worth of work, does it? I must have a problem of stalling halfway through stories, let's hope I can get back into the rhythm.

This chapter is dedicated to my grandmother, who passed away on Monday after a long illness. We'll miss you, G.

Though I doubt she'd approve of this story... anyway, next chapter when I write it. Hope I finish it before the Wii comes out, or it may never get done.