This was posted for the Johzenji Next Gen Captains Day (September 29, 2018). I plan to add chapters coinciding with various Next Gen Captain events through next summer. This means there will be about 1-2 months between chapters with most chapters focusing on a different character. The next installment, centered on Ennoshita, is planned for late November.
It felt like a perfectly ordinary day. That's what was so strange as Yuuji Terushima lay in bed amidst the soothing sunlight filtering through the curtains. He checked his alarm clock to make sure it wasn't a dream. Nope, 7:02 a.m., and he felt no different.
He forced himself out of bed, with a little less resistance than usual, and went about his routine. He was so sure after the news from Futamata yesterday that he'd feel some novel, sprightly energy, but the day felt quite normal. The shower water in his apartment was still slightly hotter than he wanted, and he still had to brush his teeth and shear his stubble over the same impeccably scrubbed sink.
When he thought about it rationally, there was no reason he should feel any different. His efforts (and Futamata's with a handful of others) had invented an antibiotic that could potentially eradicate malaria by altering the virus's genome. The first prototype, Futamata confirmed last evening, was ready for testing. It was an unprecedented breakthrough, the pinnacle of a painstaking career studying DNA. It was so monumental a feat that, as far as Terushima was concerned, it didn't matter that he'd acquired the research for the proto-vaccine through technically illicit means.
As he got dressed, the familiar hum of traffic and pedestrians sounded distinctly normal too, despite the existence of a nearly global war going on. Terushima attributed the constant ease in the city to the fortune of currently residing in a country that was officially neutral—"officially" because everyone knew which side they were actively supporting, but that fact didn't faze the average citizen one bit.
In one sense, it was all getting a bit boring.
Alas, the incessant monotony couldn't be helped. Yuuji had to get back to his lab at the national Department of Health to continue his real contribution to this research project. And so, he wrestled his head through his shirt and adjusted the collar to his liking.
Yup, today would be just another ordinary day.
Suddenly all went black. His breaths gasped against a hood thrown over his face. He flailed as someone—multiple people—throttled him to the floor, hoisted him up, and escorted him away.
After being marched, driven, and paraded again, Yuuji Terushima was finally unhooded in a chair before a large round table in a drab, glossy room. Instantly he noticed he was not the only person here under similar circumstances. Two pairs of eyes seated adjacent ogled the new arrival, the nearer person nonchalantly relaxing with hands in pockets, the farther slouching with crossed arms and one foot propped on the table's edge. The former bore a look that said, "Oh, another one?" while the latter appeared abjectly disinterested.
The people who'd brought him into the space proceeded to scan a badge on a card reader and exit a sliding door that swooshed shut behind them. Terushima warily glanced over the various personnel in military police garb poised along the walls in stock-still poses.
Before long, the door swooshed open, announcing a stern copper-haired man with a bowl cut in a prim purple military uniform—the national colors of Shiratorizawa, the country in which Yuuji had been temporarily working. By his livery's accoutrements, he was evidently a maritime officer of high rank. He marched to the opposite end of the table, hands joined behind back, and sharply rotated to face the three seated men. Contrary to himself, Yuuji judged the two men beside him to be more perturbed than perplexed.
"Kenji Futakuchi…Shigeru Yahaba…Yuuji Terushima," the officer said, casting his eyes over each in turn. Futakuchi and Yahaba appeared almost disdainful. "I am Admiral Kenjirou Shirabu, and as you can tell, I'm with the Shiratorizawan Navy. All of you know why you were brought here, and all of you know the consequences of refusal to cooperate in what I am about to tell you."
Yuuji blinked. He'd figured his arrest (if you could call it that) was related to the vaccine, but the apparent involvement of the navy in his detention made that seem somewhat unlikely. In any case, he spotted Yahaba sink deeper into his chair.
"You are aware of the current state of the war engulfing most of the world," Adm. Shirabu continued. "No progress has been made to liberate Datekou, and neither the Miyagi Alliance nor the Tokyo Entente are capable of opening additional fronts on each other's continents. The war is at a stalemate…but not for long."
He furrowed his brow, as if to signify now was the time to listen closely.
"Intelligence indicates that Nekoma, Fukurodani, and Nohebi are cosponsoring a venture called the Kenma Project. Nothing is known about this project, other than it is believed to be a new weapon that would turn the tide of war irreversibly in Tokyo's favor." He made successive eye contact with the three men as he splayed his palms on the table. "The three of you are to use your individual talents to infiltrate the lab where the Kenma Project is being developed, find out what it is—its nature, potential, application, and expected completion date—steal that information, and ultimately sabotage it."
Yuuji's eyebrows rose. A blatant espionage mission? How on earth had he gotten mixed up in something like this?! He could admit there was some thrill to the whole top-secret mission idea, but he was still aghast at the whole predicament to begin with.
"My government will provide the intelligence we have on the Kenma Project and will assist in deploying some of you in Tokyo, but beyond that, you are on your own and have total freedom as to how you accomplish this mission," Shirabu concluded as he rose to his firm posture again. "You may ask any questions now as this will likely be the last time we see each other. If it touches on information I cannot give, I will say so."
Futakuchi, totally unmoved the entire time, darted his torso forward. "I got one. Shiratorizawa's supposed to be neutral, so how come you're asking us to commit an act of war?"
It was a fair critique. The conflict began when Nekoma and Fukurodani on the Tokyo continent invaded the large island nation of Datekou off the coast of Miyagi. Datekou beseeched the aid of its mainland allies, and the nations of Karasuno, Seijoh, and Johzenji formed the Miyagi Alliance. The other great Tokyo power, Nohebi, in turn threw its support behind Nekoma and Fukurodani. Shiratorizawa—boasting arguably the world's most powerful military—remained officially unaligned, but it was an open secret that its navy and air force were assisting the Miyagi Alliance.
After a momentary stare, Admiral Shirabu shut his eyes calmly and replied. "I cannot answer that. Next." He gazed at the scowling person in the center, Yahaba.
"Who's going to benefit from this?"
"The war effort," Shirabu answered confidently. "In other words, your home countries."
"But who is going to benefit?" Yahaba pressed. Undoubtedly the information they'd be stealing was going to someone in particular, and Terushima wished to know the answer as well.
"I cannot answer that," the admiral again said with closed eyes. "Anyone else?" His gaze now fell on Terushima, whose demeanor he immediately could tell was the least defiant. Terushima inhaled firmly and decided now was the chance to get some answers.
"Yeah. You say we know why we're here and what'll happen if we refuse, but I'm totally clueless, you know? That, and you tell us we have to use our individual talents to work together, but I've never seen these two before in my life. How am I supposed to know what they can do, huh?"
Shirabu took a moment before tilting his head.
"Fair point," he replied. Indeed the three men hadn't been properly introduced and perhaps how much jeopardy they were in wasn't as self-evident as he'd hoped. "All right. Kenji Futakuchi," he addressed. The man sank back into his chair. "You were a counterfeiter and money launderer before the war, engaged especially in the smuggling of Tokyo migrants into Datekou. You arranged items such as identification documents, passports, cash, customs forms, and transportation services. After the invasion, you were arrested by the occupational government for anti-Tokyo activities and sentenced to be executed. You were incidentally freed in the course of a special forces operation to liberate an interned Datekou dignitary, but your government then charged you over your prewar activities. If you refuse to cooperate, you will be remanded to your government for prosecution."
Futakuchi's arms remained stolidly crossed, and Terushima deduced the man indeed already figured out his situation without the admiral's intercession.
Shirabu turned now to the center man. "Shigeru Yahaba: you were a computer programmer in Seijoh working for an internet security firm, but your real job was hacking. You are behind the creation of several high-profile computer viruses, including three ransomware attacks in the last five years, one of which shut down international commerce for a day. You were recently indicted in Shiratorizawa and arrested, and if you refuse to cooperate on this mission, you will be referred for trial with a maximum sentence of 225 years in prison. You cannot expect your government to come to your aid because, as you know, they willingly deported you here."
Yahaba fiercely scowled. His extradition was processed so patently illegally that he always knew someone in Shiratorizawa was pulling the strings.
Now the admiral again turned to Yuuji, the "cleanest" of the bunch. It was time, the admiral estimated, to reveal just how much he knew about the supposedly hapless scientist.
"Yuuji Terushima: you are a highly respected and accomplished researcher specializing in biology and genetics. You have been a partner on numerous critical advances in genetic engineering and most recently were recruited as a fellow on a project sponsored by the Shiratorizawan Department of Health studying the gene sequence of the malaria virus.
"However," his eyebrows furrowed critically. The accusative glare made Terushima gulp. "Your lifelong work has not been wholly altruistic. While you conducted yourself sincerely on all projects throughout your career, you have consistently pilfered research samples and data from assignments and maintained them for your personal use, even when said data and materials were not yours for the taking. Just recently, Futamata Pharmaceuticals, a company run by your friend in which you are a primary shareholder, developed a potential cure for malaria using the information you swiped from my government.
"Now consider the manner in which you were detained. You were brought here directly because the matter has not yet been referred to the police, but make no mistake." His glare narrowed. "If you decline this mission, you will be prosecuted for espionage, and not just you but your friend Futamata and anyone associated with the vaccine. Don't expect your government to protect you. As in Yahaba's case too, Johzenji is entirely beholden to Shiratorizawa for military support and won't jeopardize that relationship to save a few rogue scientists. I have no doubt your vaccine could save millions of lives, but if you don't cooperate in this, I guarantee you it will never see the light of day."
Shirabu's aura was one of such grave cruelty and seriousness it left Terushima so bewildered he wanted to flee. He bore no doubt the admiral could suppress the vaccine if he felt like it; he already demonstrated the power to just up and abduct someone on a weekday morning and ostensibly get away with it.
Recognizing that the scientist understood his predicament now, Shirabu once again turned his attention on all three.
"Naturally, your cooperation and the successful accomplishment of this mission will spare all of you from the consequences I have just outlined." Futakuchi grimaced. That confirmed his theory that the charges levied against him were at Shiratorizawa's instigation.
Yahaba sat forward, placing his elbows on the table and folding his hands as a bed for his chin. "What happens if not all of us agree?" he queried.
"That depends," Shirabu said, shooting glances between the other two, "whether the other two decline."
"I'm in," spat Futakuchi, kicking his foot from the table edge and leaning forward.
"Me too," Yahaba shrugged and then glanced at the third subject in the room. The admiral's piercing eyes fell on Terushima too, sending another chill down Yuuji's spine.
"I'm in," he muttered. "But I have one more question."
"Go ahead," Kenjirou authorized.
"You're right I'm the greatest scientist ever," Yuuji sneered. Shirabu's forehead wrinkled. That was not the turn of phrase he'd used, and it reminded him how much he resented cocksure types like Terushima. "I'm well versed in a lot of fields of study, but my specialty is genetics. Wouldn't you benefit more from an expert in weaponry?"
Shirabu closed his eyes coyly as he had been apt to do. "I have no comment on that"—his eyelids popped open again—"only to say that you three were chosen for a reason. But now our time is up. You will be shortly outfitted for the mission, and as should be manifestly clear, failure is not a viable option."
"Whoaaaaaa," Terushima said in awe at the scuba gear disintegrating in the beach surf. "It really does dissolve."
"Yup," Futakuchi grinned, tossing his own wetsuit into the drift. "There won't be any trace of it." A week after their fateful meeting with Adm. Shirabu, the pair were now on the eastern shore of Fukurodani having been dropped off by a Shiratorizawan submarine in the dead of night. Terushima peered up the circular rocks piled beneath the pier while Futakuchi recovered a manila envelope from inside his dry garments and handed it to Terushima.
"Here. That packet contains everything you need. The first piece of paper has the address of your new apartment in Itachiyama. The key, rental paperwork, and insurance are in there too. The key fob is for your car, which should be parked a block and a half north of here. The credit card is secured by the main bank of Fukurodani and is accepted everywhere. You'll also find your identification badge for the lab with directions on how to get there. There's also a fake birth certificate, passport, and driver's license with your new alias."
Terushima gaped at all the paraphernalia. "Teruji Yuushima," he read on the IDs.
"This is amazing," he gasped. How the man had arranged all this in just a week's time was incomprehensible.
Futakuchi smirked proudly; it wasn't often he got compliments on his handiwork. "I know a lot of people in a lot of places," he chimed.
Terushima pulled a cell phone from his pocket. It was a basic flip phone proffered by Shiratorizawa. He checked the contacts and found it already loaded with a variety of numbers for his workplace. Futakuchi rubbed the back of his head and sighed.
"In any case, this might be the last time we see each other. Yahaba found another lead in the stuff Shirabu sent over, so I'm going to investigate that. See you around, maybe."
He didn't wait for a goodbye and began to walk south between the wooden columns of the pier.
The car was exactly where Futakuchi said it would be, and Terushima felt a rush of relief when the fob unlocked the door. He sat in the driver's seat and hunched over the steering wheel. Again he wondered how he'd gotten involved in this; and realizing the magnitude of what he was doing and how hostile everyone around would be if they found out sent a terrifying chill down his spine.
But he wasn't actually afraid. In fact, he was rather excited. Shirabu was right about his past, and he'd snuck out specimens and terabytes of data from guarded facilities before. This mission just felt like the final boss of a videogame. He now understood that experience was why Shirabu selected him for the mission.
After all, it couldn't be because of his field of expertise, right?
After making it to Itachiyama and finding his new apartment, Terushima was again astounded at Futakuchi's abilities when he found the wardrobe fully stocked with lab coats and other garments in his perfect size. The city was a sprawling metropolis, home to the world-renowned Itachiyama University, one of the leading institutions on medical science. Terushima recalled that the foremost expert on genetic engineering, Dr. Kiyoomi Sakusa, taught there for two decades. On the spot, he couldn't rightly recall what happened to Dr. Sakusa over the last five years or so.
The laboratory where the Kenma Project was being undertaken was a massive facility constructed on a military base. Yuuji pulled up to the facility's front gates on his first day of work and displayed a badge at the gate for entry. Once inside, he followed Futakuchi's directions to the designated parking area and then proceeded to the building marked "Lab 3."
All non-military personnel entering the structure were required to undergo screening. This was the most difficult part of the planning as, in order to best coordinate with Yahaba while inside the lab, Yuuji planned to wear a wireless earpiece and camera. Yahaba had already figured out the security protocols and instructed Yuuji on how to disassemble the equipment and distribute it between his bag and person to go undetected. Terushima placed his shoulder case onto the scanner and stepped through the screener with a fluid motion. As he'd learned from his previous smuggling efforts, the trick was to let the guards do their work and not be nervous. His black carrycase slid out of the scanner innocuously. Terushima put the lanyard with his work badge around his neck and took the case to begin his first day of work.
There was one civilian allowed to bypass all security procedures, and Terushima spotted him arrive now: the head scientist of the lab and the man believed in charge of the Kenma Project, Dr. Keiji Akaashi. He approached with a wide smile and was greeted with a friendly welcome from the guards who let him through. He then started to chat with an officer holding an assault rifle whom Yuuji recognized from Yahaba's notes as Suguru Daishou, the base's Nohebi-born head of security. As Terushima turned to depart, he didn't notice Akaashi spotting him.
"I don't believe we've met."
Terushima twirled to find the grinning doctor looking right at him.
"I'm Dr. Akaashi," Keiji said extending a hand, which Yuuji shook. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Doctor…" He focused on Yuuji's badge.
"Yuushima," Yuuji answered with an assertive grin. Keiji's eyebrows momentarily shot up, but he remained friendly.
"What project are you assigned to?" Akaashi inquired.
"C-2," stated Yuuji, using the codename for his assigned project. According to Yahaba's notes, it was a comparison of the effectiveness of certain herbicides on tropical vegetation. All of the projects here had alphanumeric codes, and in Shirabu's intelligence, the Kenma Project was referred to as "D-9."
"Ah, yes," Akaashi replied. "I heard you had some setbacks the other day. How are those going?"
Yuuji wanted to simper. The amount of detail Yahaba had acquired was astounding, and it was enough for him to know exactly what Keiji was referring to. "We resolved it with the new shipment. All's good," he grinned slyly.
"Excellent. Well, you probably already know this, but Dr. Komi can be a bit of a jokester, but don't take him too seriously," Akaashi smiled and thumped Terushima on the back. "I might see you around." He waved and parted down a corridor.
Terushima was proud how well he'd maintained his composure. That man just now was the brainchild behind Kenma and knew everything about whatever Kenma was. If push came to shove, kidnapping wasn't out of the question. But abducting the scientist was scrapped during preplanning as too risky and not feasible; and instead, it was decided the best course of action was to avoid Keiji Akaashi altogether if at all possible. The interaction seemed to have gone well though, and he could only be grateful for that.
Stepping into the restroom, Terushima proceeded to reassemble Yahaba's equipment. The earpiece was disguised as an earring that sent signals directly to the auditory cortex of the brain—it was impossible for anyone except Terushima to hear Yahaba speak. Once in place, he activated it and went about setting up the camera, disguised as a pen that could be placed in his lab coat pocket.
"Yahaba, can you hear me?"
"You got that set up faster than I expected," Yahaba's voice resounded. It was almost like receiving a telepathic message. Yahaba stayed behind in Seijoh, operating out of his old home, under covert Shiratorizawan scrutiny. There was a five-hour time difference between Seijoh and the city of Itachiyama, so it was already early afternoon for Shigeru, and Yahaba had just started a second cup of coffee—the thing he missed most since his arrest. Yahaba took a sip of the mug before continuing. "What's your IQ?"
"158," replied Yuuji.
"I bet it's over 160," the voice in his head countered.
Terushima smirked. "You'd be right." A little modesty didn't hurt anyone, but if he was going to get called on it, he wasn't going to be shy.
After testing the camera, Yuuji proceeded to a door with a card reader and badged in. The reader chimed, and the door opened.
"Whoa, it really works," he said staring at the counterfeit badge. "Did Futakuchi really do all this?"
"Yup," Yahaba answered, comforting his coffee cup with both hands while looking over schematics to disarm the lab's security system when the time came. "Shirabu made Futakuchi sound like a small-timer, but I looked him up. He's actually connected to a few high-profile heists."
Before long, they deactivated the comm so Yahaba could get into the nitty-gritty of cyber-sabotage. He promised he'd have everything disarmed by end of business, and so in the meantime, Terushima went about his day: engaging in normal research, meeting the rumored Dr. Komi (with whom he felt intimately familiar from Yahaba's character sketches), and conducting research. The current batch of pesticide was even more virulent than Terushima or anyone on the team expected. Komi was impressed with how much Terushima knew about the native vegetation (Johzenji had some tropical regions, and he studied horticulture in university there) and left the newbie to finish tabulating the data at the end of the day. Then he was alone. He reactivated the comm.
"You there?"
"Done watching plants die?" Shigeru sarcastically asked.
"I hope they don't deploy this stuff in real life," an apprehensive Yuuji mumbled, wishing no misfortune to befall his homeland.
"How's the weather in Johzenji?" Yahaba suddenly asked as Terushima began shutting down his lab for the night.
"Wonderful," he said blandly, concentrating more on making sure everything was logged off properly. Yahaba took a sip of his fifth coffee.
"Maybe I'll move there after this mess," he floated. It was after 5pm in Itachiyama but past 10 o'clock in Seijoh. Yahaba now stretched his fingers and began typing feverishly to circumvent anything keeping Terushima out of the laboratory housing D-9. He had already spent part of the day determining how to disarm the CCTV feed without anyone noticing and proceeded to execute the measures now. By the time Terushima reached the first secured entrance to D-9, the cameras were useless.
"I updated your access levels, so just scan your badge and go in." Terushima did so and sure enough was granted access. The projects in the "D" part of the lab were fairly perplexing, and Terushima passed several secure rooms until he reached a door with a retinal and fingerprint scanner restricting access to Kenma in particular. It was the highest security for the entire complex. Yahaba assured beforehand that he would just trick the various pieces of equipment into unlocking the door without any inputs from Yuuji, but he warned it could take a while and had to be done with Terushima ready to enter immediately. Yahaba took another sip and frowned at his computer screen that streamed blue light into his pitch black room. Terushima listened to the man's chatter as he successively disabled layer upon layer of firewalls:
"OK, now you don't want to give me access, but if I do this, and this, and then you're gone. So now I need to go here, and, sorry: no. And now here, and: no. And you, no. And no to you. And no. And no. And no. And no. And no. And no. And no. Aaaaaaaaand…no to you as well. All right! Now switch this, and voila: door unlockie!"
Terushima heard the reader beep, and the sliding door slowly parted to allow Yuuji entrance. It closed promptly behind him.
No ceiling lights were on in the lab, but it was not totally dark. Along with various glowing screens and keyboards, the space was illuminated by gigantic liquid-filled cylinders, three feet above the ground and stretching 8-11 feet high. Terushima gaped in awe at the tanks, some of which were filled with unusual organisms suspended in the liquid by various tubes. He began to patter slowly through the lab, occasionally stopping to read computer monitors, trying to make sense of everything around.
"You seeing all this?" Terushima said aloud, turning his torso so that the pen in his pocket could film the incubation tanks.
"Yea—oh bollocks!"
"Yahaba?" Terushima called. There was no reply. "Hey. Can you hear me?"
Again no reply. Terushima gulped and glanced at the security camera above the door he'd entered by. He inhaled firmly and marched onward.
10-15 seconds passed before Yahaba's voice came back into comprehension. "Terushima, you there?"
"Yeah. What happened?"
Yahaba scowled, holding his coffee as his PC booted up in front of him. "My city instituted a mandatory blackout after 10pm. I guess my house was drawing too much from the grid, so they cut power. My UPS is running now, and I should be back into everything in just a minute."
"Wait, what about the cameras?" Terushima fretted.
"Don't worry about it. The outage won't affect my handiwork. But I'm blind at the moment, so if you die in the next thirty seconds, I can't do anything about it."
"I didn't think you could do anything about me dying," Yuuji wryly replied.
Yahaba quickly slurped. "Don't doubt my power." Once the desktop appeared, he set down the mug to reopen the programs. "I'm almost back up. Everything looks normal still. Bear in mind I can't tell if anyone else entered the lab while I was down, so be careful."
Yuuji gulped again, fighting a dry throat—but his anxiety stemmed more from the increasingly gross-looking creatures on display the deeper he got into the lab. He took another turn through the maze of tanks and chanced upon a large one at the center of the room.
What was inside stopped him dead in his tracks.
"All right. I've got video again—and what the hey is that!"
Terushima gawped at the thing before him. Floating in the spacious tank was a nude male human being, its mouth attached to a respirator. Terushima estimated the person's height at around 5'7". He looked like someone you'd see on the streets except for the unusual fact the outer two-thirds of his hair were blond, but closer to the scalp it was black.
Terushima waddled closer and peered over the data on the interface at the foot of the tank.
"Yahaba, are you seeing this?"
"Of course, you idiot. So is that… 'Kenma'?"
Terushima swiped along the touchscreen, speedreading over the data. It was all calculations for genetic splicing and accelerated cell mutation.
It was the very stuff he was familiar with from years of research.
"So that's what Kenma is. It's not a weapon. They're growing artificial humans."
"Hey. Don't get caught up in it and forget to insert the drive," Yahaba reminded. Terushima inserted a USB underneath the display so Shigeru could begin cracking the encryption. In the meantime, Yuuji peered over his shoulder at some of the mutations around. Some looked like fetuses and mutant infants; others had scales, malformed limbs, or abnormal skin growth. He realized everything else in here were failed prototypes.
At the moment though, he cared less about the failures and wondered what had succeeded to produce the apparently "finished product" in the main tank. When he turned back, he was startled to find that the man's eyelids had slightly opened for a reason Terushima wasn't sure.
Staring back were not human eyes; they were the eyes of a cat.
Terushima mentally retracted his earlier judgment that the subject appeared perfectly normal and scrolled some more, soon becoming enrapt in the hypotheses therein.
"I don't believe it. This is the most advanced genetic work I've ever seen."
"While you're at it, can you fix the gene in charge of hair color, cos that ain't normal," Yahaba cracked. Terushima continued to scroll, each second becoming even more awed by the mind of Dr. Akaashi.
"No way! Some of this is stuff I theorized about but didn't have any way to test! This is freakin' amazing!"
"OK, you sound like you're getting turned on by the guy in the incubation tank, and it's creeping me out. I cleared the permissions. Can you start transferring the data?"
"Yeah, yeah, in a minute," Terushima said with a hypnotic grin, continuing to soak in the math before him.
Then another voice announced itself in the room: "Beautiful, isn't he?"
Yuuji literally yelped and spun around. Before him stood a simpering Akaashi, flanked by Daishou and several guards with assault rifles.
"I hate to inform you, but this isn't C-2, Dr. Yuushima," Akaashi calmly said. His simper grew even wider. "Or, should I say, Yuuji Terushima."
Look for the next chapter around November 24 on Karasuno Next Gen Captain Day.
Check out my tumblr also for a world map of the AUverse (stylinbreeze60; search the tag "kenma project"). Let me know what you think of the story so far.