Chapter 3

"Ok, one more time." Hijiriido pointed to the segments of tubular bells pausing after each one to make sure the stern-faced Sakaido was following her. They'd decided to spend their time waiting for Anaido to join them on a bit of sight reading lessons. "E. G. B. D. F. That's the bars. See how it matches in the set of five? That repeats here, here, etc. And then there is the spaces, F. A. C. E."

Noting the spelling of that last part gave him the willies as he recalled Sonoda. None-the-less, he joined her in pointing to the sections grouped into four tubes vs the fives. "And this is universal?"

"Regardless of instrument for the treble clef, yes."

"I get it now. But music is comprised of more than just nine notes, even I know that. How do you know which one of these groups to choose from?"

She grinned and leaned over the edge. "See that symbol?"

"The hashtag?"

"Well, that's the common name now. In music that's a sharp, that moves the octave up the scale from the baseline. And that other one that looks kinda like an extra small note? That's a flat, it moves the key lower."

"What's that squiggly thing floating in the center of the measure?"

"A rest. So when you have that you do nothing for a quarter measure, or for however many beats that is."

Sakaido scratched his head.

She sighed. "That fraction at the beginning is the time signature. This is a 4/4 time. Easy, four beats per measure. Make sense?"

"Memorizing pi was easier. Why is musical notation so complicated?"

Hijiriido chuckled. "This stuff is just the basics. It gets much more complicated than that allowing for an amazing amount of expression. That's why it's complicated. It's the language of the heart."

That gave him pause to consider for a long moment as his eyes wandered the symbolic language. So some people can glance at this and read it as thoroughly as common writing? Of course he'd always known there was a way to write music, he'd just never studied sheet music before.

"Don't worry. We already discovered that mistakes on this don't have any repercussions. It just stops lighting up and we had to start the movement over again."

Squinting, Sakaido checked out the surrounding maze of measures in hopes of catching where Anaido was at.

"Do you think he's coming?"

"Probably." Though in truth Sakaido wasn't entirely certain. "Momoki won't let him screw around for too long before yanking him and having a word. Trust me, Momoki doesn't have a lot of patience when it comes to preventable delays in the wells."

"It does make sense that he left us in the dive. I mean, we're already here. The only reason to start over was to spur Anaido on." Her voice faded off. "Hrm, probably a good reason now that I think about it."

They sat down, leaning back on their palms with feet dangling out over the edge of the tower of instruments. "So, how have you been?"

Sakaido shrugged and idly kicked both sneaker-clad feet reveling at it not hurting. "Oh, you know, same old white walls. It's kinda nice seeing something different."

Hijiriido laughed. "Speaking of different, now I'm picturing you in that new karaoke bar that just opened up."

"Eh?" He scrunched up his nose. "I guess there are benefits to being in prison. Anything else new out there?"

"You like sake?"

He rolled his eyes. "You really are cruel."

"I know."

~ID~

Anaido hunched his shoulders. He couldn't have stepped any slower if he'd tried. And he was indeed trying. With his head down he wandered along the pathway keeping the measures in his periphery. They'd been at this thing for hours already, hours of this before bringing Sakaido in on the dive. Already the headache throbbed … the sensation of the wind warm against the hole he didn't have in the id wells.

This well, sheesh, I gotta hand it to the creator. It's almost as aggravating as Narihisago's. Almost—but not quite. In lieu of numbered squares there are time signatures, and staves, and measures with notes and notes and notes … gah. So much to count and no single obvious way to die—not for lack of trying. Too bad I hadn't thought of falling from the tower sooner. Well, there's always a next time.

In the back of his mind the number of steps he was taking accumulated. A vague melody of a waltz written on one of the musical stave walls started to take over, morphing his gait into a strange mimicry of the rhythm. He caught himself, but it was far too late to stop it. Anaido embraced the foolishness and raised his arms around the invisible partner, humming the melody and succumbing to his numerical madness.

One, two, three. And two, two, three. Hardly his first time dancing alone with an invisible date. "You lead? Or shall I?"

A moment later an abrupt suction pulled him into the sky. He dropped his hands to his side just as gravity suddenly reversed.

Opening his eyes, he blinked into the pale blue lighting of the cockpit chamber. In the other two Hondomachi and Narihisago laid back, their eyes closed still in the dive. Except for the sci-fi surroundings they could have been reclining on lounge chairs on the deck of a cruise ship taking in some sun. Certainly the lighting would have been better.

Fukuda sighed, his hand drifted up to brush the hole on the scarred side of his face. Blessedly it was there and the crazed obsession only simmered in the background. Manageable at the very least.

"Are we having a hard time following directions?" Momoki barked, shattering the silence.

Without haste, Fukuda gazed at the ceiling. "Certainly not. I did tell them who they were, didn't I?"

"I'm not talking about the beginning of the prior dive. I'm talking about you dragging your feet in the reinsert."

"Speak for yourself." He spread his arms, remaining seated in the cockpit as he knew better than to try and test the guards watching the camera feed outside the room. "I was waltzing my way right through that corridor when you pulled me."

A sigh carried over. He could just picture the director resting his forehead in his hand. "Time is not on our side."

"Do you know for a fact that a victim is currently in the grips of your murderer?"

"Well … not exactly."

"Is it possible, that like with me, your murder's MO is to wait a bit, inadvertently leaving a window to rescue said potential victim?"

"It is possible, but … "

"But you don't know for sure. And I was on my way to the instrument tower." Fukuda's voice droned on in the silent chamber as he gestured toward Hondomachi and Narihisago. "I was going to join them when you pulled me. So, who is at fault for the current delay?"

Another voice came over the static. "You know, he does have a point."

"Shut up, Wakashika!"

Slowly, Fukuda's smile grew. He tapped his fingertips on the arm of the cockpit chair only vaguely noticing that the waltz was breaking through even here. Now his smile grew a touch uncomfortable. He couldn't quite stop it.

"Fukuda, I am not going to discuss this with you. Get a move on in there."

"I have one speed, friend."

"If you want to stay on friendly terms you will find another one. As the Perforator you caught your victims. Heck, you ambushed Hondomachi, so don't try to bluff me about speed. Inside the well, get to them right away or you'll find out what solitary is like."

He cocked his head. "True, I haven't had a stint in there. Narihisago doesn't talk much about it so I'm not sure if it speaks well for the experience or not. Suppose it—"

"Fukuda! It's not up for discussion. Get moving! If I have to pull the other two because of you, you will be sorry."

"Sorry as in the sense of—"

"Togo, insert Anaido."

"Inserting Anaido."

"Hey, I wasn't done … " The real world slipped down the neon drain and deposited Fukuda's consciousness inside the sealed up container that was Anaido. He opened his eyes and stared at the strung up body of Kaeru on the clef, the mantra ran pointlessly through his head.

"Here we go again. Yeah yeah yeah … brilliant detective and my name is yadah yadah … shit." Getting to his feet he brushed himself off before looking around. "Are you watching? Look, see, see me moving? I'm going. Are you happy? Is this fast enough for you?"

Of course there wasn't an answer. He could only imagine the Wellside staff responding. Normal enough folk, unlike the lot in the cockpit chamber.

What a pain though, because they pulled me all the progress I made before has to be done all over again. Every step … two, three … his shoulders sagged. Damn it, here we go again. Just keep on track, the sooner I get this done with the sooner I can stay sane. Well … saner.

Step after step he wandered through the musical movements eyeing them on his way. Still, this place had a very soothing color about it. Didn't seem like a murder-mind in the least.

That's what struck him the most, stopping his feet as he looked around. It's those who covered their tracks that well you had worry about. And this as serene as a painted sunset.

Uh oh, I think we're in trouble.