Hello reader. Thank you for your continued support. Here are the glossary words for this chapter:-
Shinobi - basically another word for a ninja.
Shozoku - the official word for the ninja uniform.
Gi - the kimono-like garment that is part of the ninja uniform.
Obi - the sash used to keep the gi in place.
Zukin - the face mask worn by ninja as part of the uniform.
"Pixal, there you are!" Nya smiled.
"Hello Nya," Pixal waved as she walked over. "thank you for coming to see me."
"I was getting worried," Nya gave the droid a warm, compassionate hug. "you weren't at the memorial service and yesterday they said you weren't here."
"I have been… struggling." She admitted.
"Come on, let's go somewhere and talk."
They walked over to one of the doors marked 'Staff Only'. Pixal put her hand on the scanner and the door opened into what looked like the break room. There was no one else in the room, so after they closed the door behind them, the two sat down at a nearby table.
"I'm sorry I was not at the memorial," Pixal apologised. "I could not bring myself to go."
"Don't worry, we all understand, and none of us is handling it very well," Nya replied. "the other ninja are flip-flopping between being team-spirited and supportive of each other, to being snappy and angry at one another."
"Grief is a deeply personal experience, everyone handles it differently," Pixal stated, her voice cracking slightly. "it must seem strange to you that I am so deep in mourning for someone I knew so briefly."
"I don't think it's strange at all," Nya corrected, taking Pixal's hand in her own. "you might not have known Zane as long as we have, but you had such a deep connection with him."
"Yes, I miss him so much… I wish I could have done more," She sniffled. "I cannot help but feel like I failed him, there were numerous times when my efforts were not enough to prevent what happened."
"You mustn't weigh yourself down with what could've been, as Sensei Wu says, you cannot change the past, only how you affect the future." Nya said in an attempt to soothe the droid's sadness.
"My last words to him were 'I will see you again'." Pixal whimpered.
There was an awkward and painful silence. Realising that she needed to get back upstairs to Zane, Pixal decided it was time to make her excuses.
"Mr Borg has suggested that I go on a sabbatical, to have some time off to heal." She added.
"That's a good idea," Nya agreed. "it's funny you should mention it actually, because Kai was thinking about doing that too."
"I will be leaving in the next day or two, so I must get back to planning," She declared as she stood up. "thank you for coming to see me."
"Of course, I just wanted to check in and make sure you were okay," Nya said with a smile as she also stood up. "a retreat will do you the world of good."
The two of them left the break room and shared a brief hug.
"Make sure you call me when you get back," Nya grinned. "I'll want to hear all about it."
"I will, thank you." Pixal waved at Nya as she walked away and left the building.
She sighed. That was a close one. Mr Benson almost gave the whole game away there.
"Miss Borg, oh, Miss Borg!"
Pixal turned to see the receptionist waving her over.
"I'm glad to have caught you, I was about to have a message sent up to the floor where you're working," the lady said. "the head of textiles just called, he needs you to go upstairs and look over the custom order you put in."
"Thank you for letting me know." She smiled and bowed.
Heading over to the elevator she was met by Benson, who looked thoroughly embarrassed as he held the door open for her. Once in the elevator and on their way up to textiles, Benson turned to her and gave a deep bow.
"Please accept my deepest apologies, Miss Borg, for a moment I forgot where I was – it won't happen again, I swear." He pleaded.
"It was an honest mistake," Pixal held up her hand forgivingly. "think no more of it."
"Thank you," Benson replied, utterly relieved. "Hedges will batter me if he hears about it."
"We will keep it between us." She assured.
The elevator doors opened, and she was greeted by Mr Abakhan, head of textile development. He was an excitable individual, a highly skilled designer and friend of Mr Borg's for many years. With his green eyes slightly hidden behind half-moon glasses, undercut chestnut hair – now slightly greying at the sides – and a petite goatee, he was always smartly dressed and never without his tailor's tape.
"Ah, Miss Borg!" He exclaimed, escorting her off the elevator. "I was most excited to receive your custom order yesterday, I simply had to start on it immediately!"
"Thank you for your expediency." Pixal beamed.
"It was a pleasure! Now, I have enlisted some of my machinists to model the outfits you requested," he grinned widely. "fortunately, we have a few men on this floor who match the build of the person whose measurements you gave me."
"You did not have to go to all that trouble just for me." She insisted.
"No trouble at all," He waved his hand artistically. "but I am surprised by the colour you chose; none of the ninja wear silver as their main colour."
"This is the first design of a new set I wish to gift the ninja as a thank you for their services," Pixal deceptively said. "of course, the final design will be in gold fabric."
"Ah yes, I understand," He turned to the left and raised his hand. "WARWICK, COME HERE!"
One of the machinists came out wearing the shinobi shozoku Pixal had requested. The young man modelling it looked as though he were in his element wearing the ninja uniform, as he strutted over to them he seemed to think he was on an actual catwalk.
"The shozoku is made out of 100 percent 'shine' polyester, in a sterling shade of silver," Mr Abakhan stated. "all eight components of the uniform are accurate, hard-wearing and allow for ease of movement – Warwick, if you please."
On command, Warwick took a running start and rolled into a cartwheel that landed him right next to Pixal.
"Thank you, Warwick," He said with a nod. "as you can see the obi is firm enough to keep the gi in place but allows room for one or two small weapons, and the zukin has the traditional symbol for 'mountain' machine stitched in white embroidery."
Warwick put on the ninja face mask to show off the symbol, which was stitched onto the forehead of the mask.
"I do like the embroidered symbol." Pixal stated. She would've preferred the symbol for ice but that would've been a bit too on-the-mark and might've sparked suspicion.
"STANFORD, YOU'RE UP!" Mr Abakhan bellowed.
Out came another of the machinists, only this one was wearing a 3-piece suit, in a dark grey coloured fabric. He too was enjoying himself with the impromptu modelling as he swaggered past his female co-workers with a big grin on his face.
"This three-piece suit in a charcoal grey colour is 45 percent wool and 55 percent polyester," He explained. "it sits comfortably close to the figure but still has room for a concealed weapon or two – specially designed for the ninja on the go."
"Yes, it is a nice style." She nodded.
"The jacket is fully lined and has a two-button fastening; plenty of room under the arms, should the need for battle suddenly arise, and of course it comes with a dress shirt and a luxury, 100 percent silk tie..." Mr Abakhan paused and turned to Pixal looking slightly confused. "may I ask why a ninja would need a suit?"
"One must be prepared for all eventualities, and you never know when they might need to go undercover or attend a formal event." She answered.
"I agree, so what do you think?"
"I am very pleased, thank you for all your hard work." She politely bowed and then shook Mr Abakhan's hand.
"That'll do gents, back into your own clothes now," He said, waving Warwick and Stanford off. "I'm so glad you're happy with the outfits, I'll get started on the gold versions and have the silver ones dry cleaned and sent up to your work space tonight."
"Thank you."
Benson and Hedges sat in the break room drinking coffee. Just as the day before, they had been assigned to guard Pixal and her secret project, and just like yesterday, they had been relieved for lunch and coffee breaks by other security personnel.
Hedges was rolling his left shoulder and pulling a pained face. He took off his jacket and tried to see the back of his shoulder blade, with limited success.
"You okay there?" Benson wondered. "Looks like you're in pain."
"Yeah," Hedges replied. "it was self-inflicted though."
Curious, Benson walked round to see what was causing Harry "Hard Man" Hedges so much discomfort. He was rather disturbed to see a strangely coloured ooze staining the crisp white shirt Hedges was wearing.
"Dude, you've got a lot of discharge back there." Benson stated, pulling a grossed-out face.
"Never seen a tattoo healing before?" Hedges snarked. "I got it last week, but because of the size and the darkness of the purple ink, it's still seeping."
"Another one?" Benson questioned, crossing his arms. "You only just got a tattoo a couple months ago, I swear, you're addicted!"
"There are worse things to be addicted to." Hedges remarked.
Benson paused and then nodded in agreement.
"You'll see, if you ever get around to getting your first tattoo."
"I will eventually," Benson sighed. "but there's so much work involved; picking a design that you can live with for the rest of your life, finding the right artist, saving up the money, getting an appointment."
"Don't forget the aftercare, which even if you follow to the letter your tattoo could still get infected…"
"There speaks the voice of experience." Benson grinned.
"Well, a tattoo is basically an open wound full of ink pigment, so even if you get past the seeping part unscathed, there's the scabbing, flaking part which is itchy and annoying," Hedges groaned as he saw the amount of goo on his shirt. "it's no good, I'll have to clean it before I go back on duty – would you give me a hand?"
"Do I have to?" Benson cringed.
"Think of it as first aid training, there's not much difference between cleaning a cut and cleaning a tattoo," Hedges casually mentioned as he put his jacket back on. "besides, if you really want to get one, you need to acquaint yourself with the aftermath of when you leave the studio."
The two of them left the break room and headed into the male staff locker room. Hedges opened his locker to retrieve a small kit bag, before walking over to the sink area. He took off his shirt and placed it on the counter. That was when Benson got a good look at the tattoo on his co-worker's shoulder blade – it was HUGE, easily taking up a quarter of Hedges' back – and to top it all off, it was the Anacondrai symbol.
"This is even weirder than your leg tattoo," Benson declared as he washed his hands. "of all the reptiles you could've immortalised on your skin, why this one?"
"It's my favourite colour, and purple iguanas don't exist," Hedges retorted, washing his hands in one sink while filling the other with warm water.
He leaned over the counter dipping his now clean right hand into the warm water and gently rubbing the loose plasma away. Benson, realising that Hedges couldn't reach parts of the tattoo, also put his hand in the water and deftly copied Hedges.
"It's a good thing we're best friends, otherwise this would be really weird and awkward." Benson joked.
Hedges laughed, getting some antibacterial soap from his kit bag to give to Benson.
"How do you do this at home when there's no one to help you with it?" Benson wondered. He carefully washed the tattoo and then rinsed off the soap with handfuls of warm water.
"My next-door neighbour is a nurse," Hedges explained. "and she's very accommodating."
"Ooh, so that's why Brandy broke up with you eh?" Benson chuckled, raising an eyebrow.
"How many times must I tell you? I broke up with her, not the other way around." Hedges deflected as he gave Benson some paper towels.
"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Benson patted the tattoo dry and tilted his head. "hey, it looks so much better now."
"Give it a few hours…"
The two men washed their hands one more time. Hedges picked up his dirty shirt and dried his hands on it, then took the shirt and his kit bag and stuffed them both back into his locker. Fortunately, he anticipated the tattoo seeping all over his work shirt, so he brought a spare with him this morning. He took the clean shirt from the hanger and put it on over the now clean, dry tattoo.
"Aren't you supposed to put emollient cream on it?"
"I'm not having you rubbing moisturiser on me while we're at work, what if someone saw?" Hedges said firmly. "There might be talk – I mean, you know how those receptionists like to gossip, imagine if your boyfriend heard about it?"
"No offense dude but you're not my type, besides, Jack knows there's nothing between us, and like you said it's basically the same as first aid." Benson insisted.
"There's no time anyway, break's over," Hedges glanced at his watch. "how is Jack these days?"
"Still on the waiting list for treatment," Benson sighed. "his health insurance covers the cost but we're looking at six months before he'll get an appointment."
"It's a shame you can't go private."
"Yeah, but for an experimental treatment it's more than we can afford," Benson lamented as they left the locker room. "we're lucky that his insurance even covers it."
"It'll all work out, you'll see," Hedges put his hand on Benson's shoulder and attempted to comfort him. "Jack's a tough guy, he's put up one hell of a fight so far."
"Ugh, I'm not looking forward to going back in the elevator." Benson groaned, changing the subject.
"I gotta admit, standing outside those main doors has been quite interesting…" Hedges mentioned with a reflective expression.
"How do you mean?"
Hedges looked around before speaking further. He then grabbed Benson by the arm and dragged him off to a private doorway in the corner. He looked around again to make sure they were alone and out of earshot of other people.
"I'm hearing some suspicious noises on that floor where Miss Borg is working," Hedges whispered. "remember yesterday when I said I could hear that ninja's voice?"
"Yes, you also said they must have been recordings made by Miss Borg or taken from the CCTV." Benson quietly confirmed.
"Well, earlier on when I heard his voice, he mentioned the memorial statue." Hedges stated firmly.
"So?"
"So, how could a recording made before the statue, mention the statue in playback?"
Hedges could see the gears ticking over in Benson's head as his expression went from uncertain to contemplative to sudden realisation.
"You don't think-"
"I don't understand what's going on exactly," Hedges interrupted. "but I suspect that Mr Borg is withholding information."
"He owns the place, he can withhold information if he likes." Benson shrugged.
"It's the principle of the thing!" Hedges said sternly. "He trusts us enough to protect his daughter, but not enough to keep us informed?"
"I thought you said we weren't to use familial terms until Mr Borg tells us to."
Hedges slapped his hand over his eyes.
"The point is, something is going on and he doesn't see fit to tell his top security personnel," Hedges crossed his arms and raised his eyebrows. "it's downright fishy, and I'm not gonna just let it slide."
