Barahime's Test

Barahime set foot inside Seijyun High School. It was after hours, but she wasn't here to see a student. This was where one Sayaka Kirishima taught class. And although Kirishima taught music, it was a paper she'd written on her Theory of Harmonious Logic that made Barahime seek an audience. Despite Barahime finding no fault in her defenses, encounters were on the rise with individuals of a rising caliber of mystical and mental powers, and it was only really the latter which worried her.

Class 2-B. The light was on. Bingo. Sayaka was known to often stay late and grade papers, and this night was no different. She slowly slid the door open. "Kirishima Sayaka," Barahime spoke softy, and Sayaka looked up from her papers, not entirely surprised.

"Hino Barahime, renowned fighter and business woman, to what do I owe this honor? If I'd been told you'd be stopping by, I wouldn't have believed it. I don't suppose you're interested in music lessons." In person, Kirishima was notably middle-aged and had a rather dignified bearing.

"I read your paper on viewing mathematical formulas as chromatic scale notation. Very intriguing. I was hoping I could convince you to give me a demonstration of its application." Barahime stepped fully into the room and the slid the door shut behind her.

"I'm flattered. It really hasn't gotten that much attention. I was beginning to think nobody was paying attention. Certainly, I would be happy to give you a demonstration. Why don't you pull up a . . . "

The door slid open, and both women turned to see a young man walk in. Barahime immediately recognized him as Kurow, who had served as a Devil-Tiger triad boss in Hong Kong. His flashing finger claws were to be respected!

"Kurow," Barahime growled and dropped into a defensive stance. Simultaneously, Kurow responded in kind.

"Damn," Kirishima said and outstretched her palm. A beam of energy flew forth and struck Barahime in the head. The vibrant wavelengths of energy visibly took the form of music notes as they increased in intensity, beaming directly in Barahime's brain, and Barahime slumped to the ground.

Somewhat annoyed, Kurow complained, "That was unnecessary, mother. I could have taken her, and my claws needed sharpening."

"You just cost me a possible student, Kurow. You don't get to make complaints here." Kirishima sighed somewhat dejectedly. "Well, she wanted a demonstration and that's what she got."

Kurow stared down at the unconscious fighter. "So, is she . . .?"

"No, I've locked her mind in a self-propagating harmonious bi-infinite arithmetic function. Simply put, she's comatose. Unless she can solve it with harmonious logic, she'll die for lack of food and water. Still, go dump her someplace she won't be found. We can't risk exposure of the Darkside Society yet. Off with you, I still have papers to grade."

"Should I?" Kurow asked, extending a blade from one finger.

"No, though only since I know you'd enjoy it. Besides even if she does wake up, she'll no doubt have short term memory loss."

A few hours later, Kurow held Barahime over an opening in an abandoned construction site and let go. His role in this was now finished. However, her trials had just begun.

Barahime floated weightlessly in her own psyche. The view was amazing, yet two pathways of light - music notes - were flying by her and splitting off in opposite directions. And as she watched this, all she could see – except those pathways - was getting farther away, as if the space here was expanding towards infinity. In a matter seconds, she realized she was trapped in perhaps an inescapable prison. She was trapped nowhere.

"Great. Just great. I'm trapped alone nowhere forever."

"Boss lady not alone," Iggis chimed in, perching up on her shoulder.

"Why am I not surprised?"

"Because boss lady is the smartest!"

"Right. Whatever hit me was probably strong enough that the residual energy affected you as well."

"Boss lady want cheese, I get cheese."

"No, what I need is a way out. We're trapped by numbers so we'll have to use numbers, but they're in the code of music."

"Iggis not watch Numbers because it not come on air for 8 more years."

Four minutes or four days later . . .

Neither Barahime or Iggis could see a sailboat in the energy pathways that defined their location, the center of approaching infinity.

"I give up." Barahime sighed. "Fortunately, I can't sense whether I'm hungry or not. How many weeks has it been?"

"Iggis hungry. I go to forage for tacos!"

As Iggis leapt from her shoulder, Barahime shouted, "Iggis, no!" Too late, the few inches between Iggis and Barahime immediately increased to meters, then hundreds of meters. As her eyes watched him head towards the horizon and vanish, she made out a cadence in the block of notes behind him. It was a deceptive cadence which had hidden the key. However even a deceptive cadence could serve to establish a key because those chord sequences imply a unique diatonic context. In fact, the key was modulating through a series of keys, perhaps indicating a baroque or maybe even ritornello.

"Great, but this really doesn't help me solve anything."

Although it had now passed by, she quickly realized that ritornellos repeat. Wait she did, and when it passed by again, she looked more closely. In fact, it came from both sides. Flats on the left and sharps on the right. "And now, I have a complete chromatic scale, but I still don't know how to convert the 12 notes into numbers."

Barahime sighed and examined her situation more closely. She was at an intersection. The music was repeating. Perhaps, it was looping back around. Maybe if she grabbed on it might take her to the edge. "I really have no idea what would happen if I plunged into that stream. Better not." The shape of the stream could still be a clue. If both ends looped back, the stream would be in the shape of the number eight. Twelve and eight are both divisible by 4 and 2. Arg, I don't know how that helps. Decimals work in 10 which is also divisible by two. It's like I'm trapped in a giant Möbius strip. Wait, Möbius was a mathematician.

Twelve years later (quite possibly twelve hours) . . .

Physical exhaustion was not a problem. However, mental exhaustion was a different story. "The Möbius sheet music is mutating, modulating as the strip expands towards infinity." Barahime was working on a Möbius inversion formula, a formula that would enable her to traverse an infinite function backwards. But not only did it need to be solved, it had to be a formula capable of modulating to the ever changing and growing function in front of her. The two separate flows before her were actually separate sides of the twisting Möbius strip, necessitating the simultaneous completion of two Möbius inversion formulas. Still, the secret of the 11th and 12th notes numerical taco values eluded her. Tacos. Insanity or genius?

Bored, she started humming the tune she was reverse calculating. And it finally dawned on her that the missing values were universal tonal shifts. Not even close to complicated or deliberately confusing. Yet, one wouldn't think to look for it unless they thought of it.

Barahime hummed and calculated for unmeasured time.

Her inverse formulas had achieved synchronization and now she saw empty spaces in the stream. Empty spaces for a missing intermezzo equation. This was a symphony she would have to complete herself. An hour later, she decided to stylize part of Beethoven's Ode to Joy. Humming that, she charged a missing piece in the strip, a strip she had come to realize was repeating a mutation of Bach's Brandenburg Concerto No. 3.

Leading with her fist, the only way she knew how, she punched through the hole, completing the piece, and quickly hummed a canceling note, completing the equation and obliterating the strip.

Now, she was simply in her mind and could feel herself wanting to wake. However, she wasn't about to leave a weasel to roam about her psyche. Her mind was ordered. That was clear. An endless rowed filing system. Yet, there was an aisle where the lights didn't work. In this aisle, there was a boarded hole in the floor. One small opening she saw, just big enough for a weasel. After tearing up the boards, she dove down. The drop was short. The darkness was impenetrable. She felt along the cave walls with her hands. This brought back bad memories. From the time when she was last trapped within herself. That time, she was in a mirror, and her id, may as well call it that, split from her and tried to kill her, absorb and consume to be more precise. She'd beaten it and left it behind. A few of the more negative, darker, aspects of personality. Good riddance.

Iggis bowled into her. She hadn't thought he could hit hard enough to knock her over, but he did. "Boss lady, we go now."

"I don't like this either, but what's got you so spooked? I'm here. You don't need to worry. I'm the strongest, remember?"

"Boss lady not understand. There no tacos here. Only death."

A thud of a footfall rumbled up the cavern to shake them. In the darkness, two eyes opened, blazing golden fire.

"It can't be," Bara said, her blood turning to ice. Bara sprang to her feet and ran. The shaft of light gave away the exit. It was blocked by the other her, the dark one. Flying upwards, Bara blew past her with a fist while humming. Two streams of music ensnared the other her and covered the hole like a plug. Bara continued humming and buried the hole in an infinite formula. This one had no escape pause.

"Iggis, it's time to wake up," Bara said, continuing to fly upwards towards brighter areas. When he was gone, she allowed herself the same. Feeling began to flow back into her as she faded away from this place. As she did, she could a voice calling after her.

"We'll always be here, Bara. We'll wait for you."

-----

Bara awoke with a start. From one hole to another.

"Wha-- happened? Why am I here? I don't remember . . . the last thing I recall is ... eating toast for breakfast."

"Boss lady, be glad."

"Well, let's climb. I could go for tacos. Maybe, a truck of tacos."

Upon pulling herself out the hole, Barahime saw that a construction crew had arrived to fill the hole with cement. A song was playing on their boombox. When she listened, she heard numbers.