Author's Note: Here's my first attempt at a crossover—I got the idea for this when I went on the Tokyopop website and saw that volume 8 of Cyborg 009 manga had Cyborg 009 Joe Shimamura as a world class racecar driver (on the show he has a bit of a leadfoot behind the wheel). Then on researching, I found out that both Mach Go Go Go (Speed Racer) and Cyborg 009 had been two of the most popular mangas in Japan during the 60's I thought that it would be a great story. Since both stories have heroic and handsome main characters with a strong sense of right and wrong who feel the need for speed, and the villains from SR episode "The Trick Race" are a syndicate that wants to dominate the world and Cyborg baddie Black Ghost is in the business of war, well I just figured—crossover. I do not own either Speed Racer or Cyborg 009, they are owned respectively by Speed Racer Enterprises, DIC, TokyoTV, Avex-Mode and Toei Animation and Cyborg 009 was created by the late Shotaro Ishinomori.
RACE TO SAVE THE WORLD
PROLOGUE—UNHOLY ALLIANCE
The sleek black limousine drove into the desolate wilderness of deep in the Himalayan Mountains late one night where a rather nondescript sprawling warehouselike building dominated a large installation that resembled a huge factory complex. Surrounded by a tall wire fence that was topped with barbed wire and seemed electrified, the facility gave the appearance of a fortress, ominous in the moonless overcast expanse. The long black vehicle crept to the entrance gate and the driver, Bruno, rolled down the window and handed the guard a document.
The guard, a surly subordinate clad in a royal blue blouse with large gold buttons, perused the document, wary at first and then upon reading the document, appeared satisfied and grunted, "Go ahead to the main building. Black Ghost is waiting for you."
The taciturn Bruno nodded and rolling up the window proceeded as directed. In the back seat, the one-legged Mr. Supremo, head of the nefarious Spies Incorporated Syndicate sat back resting both hands on the hilt of his ornate mahogany cane with the serpent coiled around. He sat silently and stared out the one-way window at the activity within the confines of the imposing complex consisting of a mixture of uniformed soldiers, scientists in white lab coats, and other workers milling about as the car made its way wending through the complex. It pulled up to a large impressive building festooned with darkened glass.
Mr. Supremo's partner, Mr. Magneto, a squat, gray-haired man spoke with a nervous chuckle. "Well it certainly looks like quite a place. And you say that the Black Ghost organization can help us?"
Supremo nodded as he replied, "They are a leading manufacturer of state-of-the-art weaponry. It's just what I need to accomplish my fait accompli. Look at the facts, the world superpowers are at a stalemate, embroiled in a bitter cold war, there is a war going on in Southeast Asia, and many others across the world are oppressed. The time is perfect."
Magneto puffed on a cigar as he agreed, "So true. Then Black Ghost is just the ally we need to complete the process."
Supremo nodded and then with his cane, tapped on the partition separating them from the driver. Instantly, the door was opened and both men exited the vehicle and made their way up the marble staircase to the entrance. Once inside, the two men walked down a long dark corridor until they reached a back lit amphitheater where a dark figure was silhouetted making the entire atmosphere almost macabre. Even Supremo who was mostly unfazed by anything was mildly taken aback.
"Good evening gentlemen. I welcome you to my humble headquarters. I trust you found us with relative ease?" a low timbered baritone said congenially as the figure turned to face his guests. The skull visage with yellow eyes greeted the two men with an evil smile.
Magneto's mouth fell open, dropping his cigar as he gasped with eyes wide. But Supremo had recovered his aplomb and nodded as he answered, "Yes. I take it you are the one known as Scarl?"
Scarl nodded regally. "I am. I am also known as Black Ghost, you can refer to me as either." He gestured to an area set up with a table and three comfortable chairs. "Please make yourselves comfortable."
The three men headed to the area and Supremo and Magneto took the seats offered. They declined the offer of refreshments and so got right down to business.
"Now gentlemen, how can I assist you?" Scarl wanted to know as he addressed the Spies Incorporated leadership.
Supremo replied, "I have aspirations to lead this world so I have a need for a powerful weapon that I can use to bargain with. I am working to secure to trust of the superpowers and with just such a weapon I will be able to make them an offer they cannot refuse and subsequently gain control over them."
"Hmmm," Scarl said thoughtfully. "An intriguing idea. Do continue."
Supremo went on. "A weapon of great destruction capability, that is almost impossible to defend or detect, like a thief in the night. That's what I want. Can you build me such a weapon?"
Scarl's chest rumbled and he chuckled as if highly amused. "My dear Mr. Supremo, building a weapon like that is mere child's play but I am more intrigued by your plans to gain control over the superpowers. They are a formidable group indeed."
Magneto piped up smugly, "Yes but we have operatives in all the camps and they assure us that there is dissention in the ranks, making them quite vulnerable." He sat back and preened in self-satisfaction.
Supremo nodded as he reiterated, "I would not be moving as I am without having assured myself of success. I am a careful man, as I assume you are."
Scarl intoned, "That I most certainly am but I do enjoy a challenge. Would you consider a partnership with me? I would supply the weaponry and together we could take control of the world from the superpowers. What do you say?"
Supremo and Magneto exchanged glances and Supremo inquired, "May we discuss this first?"
"Of course. It pays to be prudent and I admire your caution. I shall give you whatever time you need. Please be my guests to discuss this and if you need more time, please take it." The dark garbed figure of mystery rose to his feet and then turned and left.
Magneto turned to his partner. "What's to discuss? He appears to be someone with which it would be fortuitous to ally with."
Supremo scowled as he stated, "I see that but I hesitate to ask him to join us. I get the feeling he has ulterior motives and I don't trust him."
Magneto snorted, "But we cannot make our plans reality without his help."
Supremo smiled thinly beneath his thin mustache. "I never meant to not include him. I merely stated my concern. He will be quite useful to us." He sat down and leaned back his eyes glowing with a speculative gleam. "Until his usefulness comes to an end."
Magneto nodded as he added, "Then we'll deal with him as we do with any other whose use is exhausted."
"Uh-huh," Supremo agreed.
In his chamber, Scarl monitored his two guests and after hearing the conversation, he laughed evilly as he said, "Is that so, gentlemen? We shall see."
A half the distance across the globe in the south section of Bay City, Michigan, it was a normal weekday at the Pops Motors racetrack where Pops Racer the CEO and the crew chief Sparky Sabu were trackside as the sleek white racing machine, the Mach 5, made laps around the regulation oval. The racecar, unparalleled in Formula 1 competitions for the last year was making phenomenal times as its intrepid driver, Formula 1 champion Speed Racer pushed the vehicle to better times with each lap.
"Whoo whee, Pops he's offa the charts today. I don't know why he's doin' so good but I'm not about to look a gift horse in the mouth," Sparky said in awe as he observed the time on his stopwatch.
Pops was grinning ear-to-ear. "Yep, that's my boy. A chip off the ol' block." He strutted like a peacock as Speed came down the home stretch and slowed as he approached the two waiting. The car rumbled to a stop and the motor cut as the muscular form of the handsome coal haired young man hurdled the side door to join his father and best friend.
"Hiya guys," Speed said with an airy grin his cobalt blue eyes twinkling. "Well, what's the verdict, how'd I do?"
Sparky handed him the clipboard with a smirk. "Do ya have to ask?"
Speed perused the morning times as the flapping sound of blades from a landing helicopter distracted him. His face broke into a slow smile as his cobalt orbs gazed up and he watched the chopper descend and land on the infield grass. The engine turned off and he tossed the clipboard at Sparky and then took off for the infield to meet the pert feminine form alighting from the craft.
Sparky rolled his eyes as Pops shook his head. "Looks like Speed's 'other woman'; has arrived. Guess we'll have a delay in practice while he goes to talk to Trixie."
Pops snorted, "Yeah, talk. If only that was what they're going to do." He headed for the garage and Sparky snickered as he followed.
Over at the royal blue chopper with the red stripe, Speed greeted his girlfriend Trixie Shimura with a bear hug that lifted her up off the ground. She squealed a protest as she giggled at his exuberance.
"Speed, what is the matter with you? Put me down!" Trixie's husky yet sweet voice cried as he spun her about, his own laughter mixing with hers.
"Your wish is my command, lovely one." He put her down and then pulled her to him to capture her mouth in a kiss. She melded into him, surrendering to his insistent yet tender assault.
When they finally broke apart, Speed said softly, "I had a blast with you last night. I was sorry to see the evening end." He referred to their date the previous evening which had them sharing a cozy dinner she prepared at her cottage, dancing at a local discotheque, and of course, a long drive in the moonlight.
"Me too," Trixie agreed, breathless. "I couldn't go to sleep just thinking about you."
"That makes two of us, baby," he said as he reached up to brush her chestnut bangs back and gazed into her sea green eyes. "I've grown used to seeing you every night, it's beginning to be a regular habit, one I don't want to break."
Trixie felt her heart pound as she saw Speed's eyes darken and draw her in. She took a deep breath and lowered her own orbs demurely. "Speed, stop looking at me like that, you're making me blush. And in broad daylight."
Speed looked up and shrugged his shoulders innocently. "Gee, I forgot. All I can see is you." He grinned engagingly as Trixie shook her head.
"Speed, youre incorrigible," she admonished weakly. "What am I going to do with you?"
"Hmmm, well let me see," Speed said thoughtfully, his face showing him musing. He then smiled slowly as he pulled Trixie close again. "The possibilities are endless sweetheart, but I only ask one thing."
"And what's that?" she asked coyly.
Speed drew closer, their lips less than an inch apart. "Be gentle with me," he urged with a rakish glint as he teased Trixie's cherry red mouth open to receive him again. However, the passionate expression was cut short this time by the gravelly baritone of the patriarch of the Racer clan.
"Speed! Let's get back to work," Pops bellowed from the bowels of the garage.
Speed groaned as he closed his eyes. "The voice of doom," he lamented.
Trixie tittered, "Now, now. That wasn't nice, Speed."
"Easy for you to say. Hes not making like Simon Legree to you," Speed protested. "Like the song says 'tote that barge 'n lift that bale'. Man!"
She patted his cheek as she sympathized. "I know."
"SPEED!"
"I'm coming!" Speed sighed in annoyance as he said to Trixie, "I gotta go or Pops'll have a fit. You gonna stick around and do some spotting for me?"
Trixie nodded, "Uh-huh. I got the helicopter maintenance done so I can spot all you want."
"Groovy," he said as he took her elbow and together they walked toward the garage.
Inside the garage, Pops was before the new teletype machine that he had installed to get first breaking racing news from the wire and was now retrieving a report just as Speed and Trixie entered the garage. He waited for the last few lines to print out then tore off the document as his son came to him, holding his girlfriend's hand.
"Something important on the wire?" Speed asked as he gestured to the paper in his father's hand.
Pops was engrossed with the contents of the wire as he grunted, his onyx eyes riveted to the words. He finally looked up and then addressed Speed, handing him the wire.
"Here, read this. It'll help you to know what we might be up against when the season starts in three weeks." Speed took the document from him with a look of curiosity and then began to read.
Pops was watching him but then noticed Trixie and remembering his manners greeted her, "Hello, Trixie."
"Hi Pops. Sorry I wasn't here sooner, I had to finish maintenance on my chopper," she explained.
"No problem, honey. Just with the season starting soon, I need you here to help get Speed ready." He appraised his son and noting Speed's intense interest in the wire inquired, "What do you think of that?"
"Whew!" he expostulated as he finished reading. "Is this for real?"
LEMANS, FRANCE…………
THE RECORD AT THE 24 HOURS AT LEMANS WAS SHATTERED TODAY BY THE TOP RACING PROSPECT FROM JAPAN "HURRICANE" JOE SHIMAMURA WHO FINISHED THE GRUELING COURSE IN 23.25 HOURS. SHIMAMURA'S FIRST PLACE FINISH IS ANOTHER IN A STRING OF VICTORIES THE ROOKIE SENSATION HAS ACCOMPLISHED IN THE LAST MONTH WHERE HE SCORED FOUR CONSECUTIVE VICTORIES IN PRE-SEASON RACES. HE IS REPORTED TO BE REGISTERED TO DEBUT IN THE UPCOMING FORMULA 1 SEASON, DUE TO START IN THREE WEEKS AT THE FUJIYAMA 500 IN JAPAN.
END……
Speed took a deep breath as he remarked, "Twenty-three point twenty-five hours? That's unreal! Is this guy Shimamura even human?"
Trixie asked, "Who's Hurricane Joe Shimamura?"
Speed replied, "He's this racing phenom from Japan. Reports say he's breaking records all over the world. The guy's incredible, one of the best."
"Yeah," Pops agreed. "Everyone's saying he's a natural talent. Unbelievable and with such stamina, he hardly gets tired during road races. He's leaving everybody in his dust."
Sparky came into the garage and joined them. "What gives, all?"
Speed handed him the wire. "Shimamura just won the Twenty-Four Hours at LeMans."
"Another one?" Sparky said incredulously as he read the wire. When he was finished Speed took it back to read again.
"Yeah," Speed said with a thoughtful frown as he stared at report this guy's unbelievable. He's gonna be great competition.
Trixie noticed Speed's faraway look and tapped him lightly on the shoulder. "Speed, are you okay? Speed!"
"Huh?" He was shaken from his reverie. He then glanced at Trixie and smiled reassuringly as he replied, "Sure, baby, I'm fine." To Sparky he said, "Is the Mach 5 ready for the next run?"
"She sure is, pal. Ready and waiting," Sparky answered eagerly.
"Well, what're we waiting for? Let's roll." Speed tossed the wire aside and then sprinted to the Mach 5 and leapt into the cockpit, grabbing and donning his helmet. Then the roar of the 12-cylinder power plant sounded as the racecar came to life and he pulled off to the track to begin.
Sparky remarked smugly to Trixie. "All he has to hear is that Shimamura won another race and he's like a man possessed. He jumps into the Mach 5 and tries to break the world land speed record."
Pops snorted, "As long as it gets him out on the track practicing, I don't care. Let's head out there and get his times." Both men headed out and Trixie trailed them, picking up the wire that had fluttered to the floor. She read it and then pursing her lips in concern laid it on the workbench before she too, headed out.
In LeMans, the sun had set on a most extraordinary day. The big race was long finished and Team Dolphin, "Hurricane" Joe Shimamura's racing team was gathered for some final photo ops as the victors of the Twenty-Four Hours at LeMans. The full moon was presiding over the group as the seemingly endless interviews went on.
Jet Link, crew chief and formerly Cyborg 002 was getting bored with all the fuss and seemingly endless media crush as he complained, "Arrrgh! Aren't we done with all this yet?"
"Calm yourself down, Jet," admonished team manager Albert Heinrich, Cyborg 004. "When you win, it's the nature of the beast." He began to place auto parts in a large crate.
Jet watched as the flashbulbs strobed around Joe as if he were engulfed in a miniature lightning storm. He grunted, "Yeah, yeah, yeah. But the race has been over for three hours and we gotta pack everything for the next race and I was hopin' to get some R & R back home in New York before we have to be back in Japan." He sighed deeply to expel his impatience.
Albert said with a knowing wink, "You want to see Kathy and Jimmy again, huh?"
Jet blushed as he blustered, "W-what are you talkin' about? I never said that!"
"You don't have to, my friend. You're pretty transparent."
"T-that's not the reason I want to go back to the States," Jet insisted weakly, trying to cover his tracks.
"Have it your way. But we have to finish up here and even so, you'll have plenty of time to head home for a while."
Jet folded his arms obstinately still intent on expressing his ire. "This is getting to be a drag."
"Well, we both agreed to help Joe when he was approached by Professor Kozumi to race his new design, the Tempest. And when you win like we've been doing, it becomes big news," Albert reasoned.
"Okay, okay! But it's still a pain," Jet complained.
Albert chuckled as he shook his head at the American cyborg's volatile manner and then went back to packing pit supplies.
Over at the gathering of reporters the session was drawing to a close as the media completed their interviews, with only one intrepid soul left. Joe stifled a yawn as he answered the same questions for what it appeared to be the hundredth time.
"So Hurricane Joe, are you ready for the next race?" the reporter from Racing Digest asked.
"I think so."
"That's the opening of the Formula 1 season and you'll have some pretty stiff competition in the mysterious Racer X and the defending champion, Speed Racer. He's the best of the best."
Joe nodded as he said, "I'm a great admirer of Speed Racer and Racer X both and am looking forward to competing with them. Both are aggressive racers that race fair and squarely."
"And the others in the circuit are quite formidable like the Car Acrobatic Team and the Four Roses Team. What do you think about them?"
Joe sighed as he pondered a moment. "I guess I'll do what I have been doing. Race my very best regardless of any other racers and hope they do the same."
The reporter jotted the statement down and then continued, "Last question and it has to do with your personal life. What are your plans with the director of the new Royale Art Museum in Paris, Francoise Arnoul. Rumor has it that you two will wed after the season ends, is that true?"
Joes cinnamon eyes softened as his mind filled with the vision of silky flaxen hair and tropic lagoon eyes. Francoise had been at all the races her lovely presence spurring him on, today being no different and after giving him his customary congratulatory kiss, she had left, telling him she would wait for him in her apartment on Rue de Honore in Paris. He grinned in anticipation of that as he said, "We've not made any permanent plans yet but when we do, you'll be the first to know."
The reporter smiled with a glint as he said, "Thanks Joe, good luck with the next race."
As he walked away, Albert and Jet came to Joe who looked a bit spent but still enthused. "Hey guys, sorry that took so long."
Albert grinned as he clapped Joe on the shoulder. "Don't worry about it. We're here for you, 009. We're a team, remember."
Jet said grudgingly, "Yeah buddy, we understand." His chocolate eyes had sly twinkle enter then as he added, "But I wonder if a certain beautiful blonde will. 003 has quite the temper when she wants to."
Albert chided, "Spoken like a man who's been on the receiving end of that temper a few times, eh 002?"
Joe's expression became panicked as he glanced at his watch. "Oh man, look at the time! She told me she would be waiting for me with dinner, I'd better make tracks." He leapt into the pale blue machine known as the Tempest and fired up the powerful machine. The car roared and as he swung it around Joe waved and called, "See you guys in about a week."
"Be good!" Jet yelled as he returned the wave.
"Give our regards to 003!" Albert called back as the car sped off in a cloud of dust.
About 45 minutes later, Joe turned onto the elegant street in Paris that flanked the Seine and had some of the most impressive old apartments in the City of Lights. The Tempest rolled into a space in front of an ivory brick townhouse under a spreading tree and rumbled to a stop as Joe closed the cockpit and opened the door to exit, reaching for a single red rose as he slammed the door shut. He glanced at his watch and grimaced as he saw the late evening hour.
"Kuso, I wanted to get here sooner, she's gonna have my head," he fretted as he brushed a nervous hand through his sorrel locks. He headed up the stoop to the ornate cherry door where he reached into his racing suit and drew out his keys and inserted them in the lock to let himself in the townhouse.
Joe walked into the foyer and called out, "Francoise? Francoise, where are you? Koishii?"
He patrolled the first level of the trendy digs, going through the darkened parlor, then saw the two empty plates in the breakfast nook and the tapers burnt down to half size, the two flames flickering, casting shadows on the walls. He blew out the candles as he glanced at the table and guilt flooded him at the obvious set up for a romantic dinner, now forgotten.
"Francoise?" Joe said worriedly as he began climbing the spiral staircase that led to her bedroom loft, the double doors closed. He rapped softly on the doors and then turned the knob to walk into the bedroom. Its delicate interior was also lit with various scattered candlelight, the fluffy double bed turned down invitingly.
A soft perfume of roses wafted through the air on a zephyr blowing in from the river from the open terrace where a slender figure in a flowing diaphanous gown sat on a white wicker loveseat facing the Seine, her golden curls turned to silver in the moonlight as they danced on the breeze. Joe's heart began to pound as he approached Francoise.
He sat beside her and reached to brush her hair back from her faraway eyes. "Sorry I'm so late, koishii. I ruined dinner, please forgive me."
She looked up at him, her eyes luminous yet haunting as she answered, "Joe." Tears began to track down her porcelain cheeks.
He was immediately concerned as he enfolded his arms about her. "What is it, tenshi?" he asked gently.
She blurted out, "I was here watching the sunset as I waited for you and I saw two children playing in the park across the way. It just reminded me of me and Jean Paul." She buried her head against his shoulder, her tears leaving wet spots on his racing suit.
Joe caressed her in short, soothing strokes. "Shhhh. Don't cry Francoise. I know that we all have had our lives torn from us but we have a new life now that Black Ghost is defeated, a life with promise that we can make wonderful."
She gazed up into the warm cinnamon eyes radiating love at her as Joe favored her with his sweet shy smile and saw hope, hope that chased her tears away like the summer sun to a sudden shower. She suddenly took hold of his hand and rising, pulled him up to his feet as she backed into the bedroom and still holding his hand he followed, his eyes darkening with emotion as he began to get hard.
Francoise stepped up to Joe and laid her hands on his shoulders, sliding his jacket off and down his muscular arms as it dropped to the ground. Joe grinned and he kicked off his shoes as not taking his eyes from her, he unzipped the front of his racing suit, and it joined his jacket on the floor. Aqua locked with cinnamon as the rest on his clothes were shed and Francoise slipped onto the bed, her full pink lips curved into a seductive smile and beckoning him to her. Joe needed no further encouragement as he joined her, now fully aroused.
Joe cradled Francoise's face in his hands as he gazed deeply into her passion darkened eyes and felt drawn into the whirlpool of emotion swirling within their depths. He brought his hungry lips on hers and began his assault, teasing her rosebud mouth to receive him as his body raged with heat, his form stretching on top of hers as she opened up to welcome him. He continued kissing her, tasting her as his mouth drew her sweetness like strawberry wine and his hands slowly slid from her cheeks to her silken shoulders to the slim straps of her gown, working them down her arms to free her from the garment. Her body lay before him exposed, beautiful, and pearlescent in the candlelight.
He murmured, "Tenshi," the Japanese word for "angel", his favorite endearment for her over and over because that is what she was to him, an angel sent straight to him from God above. She was the very epitome of the sweet heavenly messenger, like the Raphael paintings that he had seen growing up at the church and that had enshrined the image of an angel in his head. He pulled her to him, flesh meeting flesh as they coupled and their shadows merged on the wall.
Their passion spent hours later as Joe cradled the softly slumbering Francoise in his arms, sleep was oddly elusive and he brooded about what lay ahead for him in competition, the beginning of the Formula 1 season racing against the famous Speed Racer and enigmatic Racer X. He felt ambivalence as the next mountain loomed before him.
NEXT-EXTENDING THE OLIVE BRANCH
Final Note: I wrote the last scene as from the Cyborg 009 manga where Joe and Francoise have a very physical relationship—as a rule I don't do citrus unless the couple is married-that's me.