It takes a lifetime to know yourself, maybe even longer …
General Benjamin Gloven lit up a Cuba cigar and puffed clouds of tobacco smoke while deep thoughts raced around his mind. Jean Lobe would have been the key to end Âme's treachery. It wasn't his luck that Jean Lobe was killed around before he could. What he feared that the remnants of Âme's genetically modified humans would do something far worse than the international terrorists had done to the twin towers in the USA. Their abilities and military skills had taught them to be survivors, the ability to blend in and out and disappear like ghosts. General Gloven sighed wearily. He was already in his 50s and most of his energy and youthful strength had been spent during his young military days. Now before he could retire quietly in the countryside of his birth land, he had to hunt down what the Americans would name 'the freaks of nature'. That was the problem with scientists, always creating something without thinking of the consequences and it had to be someone else who had to clean up the mess that they caused. To the late president of Âme, may the Bon Dieu have mercy on his soul and prayed the remaining 4 scientists could be found so that they need not waste time on this cat and mouse game.
Another cloud of smoke floated about General Gloven's thick cracked lips. On the military's point of view, it was a dreadful shame that these creations could not be used for the benefit of the France's security system if there's a possibility…
At school, André Masson neatly packed his things into a bag and slings it around his shoulder. The first few days of being a teacher weren't so bad as described by the principle. The students were spontaneous and had a marvelous interest in English and Arts. His colleagues seemed to take a liking to him. That was good, he thought, walking down along the hallway. He paused, looked outside the window towards the field and saw the baseball team was having their routine evening practices. These teenagers were lucky to be able to enjoy their life and do all sorts of things that they seemed fit. André wondered what was it like to be a student in a normal school. He scrolled across the field till he saw someone sitting beneath the shades of the trees. He was resting his head upon his rolled up knees. Lying beside him was his textbooks. A label was pasted onto it. André softly read it, "Omi Tsukiyono …"
He turned around and saw Ms. Fujima walking to the nearest classroom. "Fujima-san," he ran up to her. "Excuse me…"
"Oh, Masson-san, how is your first few days of teaching? I hope that my students did not give you any problems."
"They are very fine students since they have an excellent form teacher. Just out of curiosity, may I know more about Omi Tsukiyono? He seemed to be very tired all the time."
"Omi Tsukiyono?" Ms Fujima's face gave a motherly impression. "Poor boy, it must be tiring on him to work and study at the same times. You see, his parents died when he was young and he has no relatives to look after him. Since then, he had to fend for himself. The teachers and I gave him some accommodations to ease his burden. Omi is very intelligent boy, Masson-san. I see that a bright future is ahead for him."
"Sou ka (I see)," André glanced thoughtfully at the window. He turned back and smiled politely. "Arigatou, Fujima-san."
While Omi was still in school, at the basement of the florist shop, Yoji, Ken and Aya stared at the computer screen very hard. Manx's red lips curled in slight amusement at their reaction. Ken rubbed his eyes for a moment and asked, "Did I see what I see or was that my imagination?"
"This footage is real, isn't it, Manx?" Yoji ruffled up his hair, "It's very creepy like those horror movies."
"It should be," said Aya slowly, "That's what Sakimoto said in his journal. The description of the little girl is exactly the same, including the descriptions of his own actions."
"But how could someone removed something solid while it is being firmly placed on an arm?" Ken argued. "There's no way that the bangle could move through the arm like it doesn't existed."
"Sakimoto did try to touch her but his hand went passed her. Furthermore, he saw the bangle." Aya showed him a page of the journal. "Sounds insane but it actually happened."
"So, was the girl invisible or wasn't she?" Yoji sounded confused.
"No," Manx replied. "She was visible but her body wasn't in a physically solid state. I saw the footage 30 times to come to that conclusion. And maybe whatever she touched causes it to lose their solid state."
"Don't tell me that her body went to a spiritual state or something, like a ghost." Yoji shuddered at the thought. "Man, this is getting to be a X-files episode. How did Âme actually create these 'genetically modified humans'? It sound so far fetched. In the future like year 4030, it would sound logical but in this century? I don't think so."
"Well, since General Beniamin Gloven have come all the way here from France, I guess that Âme was successful and probably was the first to do so." Ken shrugged his shoulders. "Like you said, the idea sounds so idealistic since the cloning of Dolly the sheep was made possible in 1995 or so."
"Maybe, there are many scientific discoveries that have been made in the 70's that were not made known because of selfish reasons," commented Aya. "Every country is fighting with each other to be the best so most likely they would want to keep their secrets in an extremely low profile."
"That is possible," Manx crossed her arms. "The General is very concerned about that issue. If made known, the USA would slam the non-ethical regulations & immorality trash onto France's face. The government took pains in covering up it up Sakimoto's article, claiming that Âme was never involved and the genetically plants and animals needed further testing before confirming its usage. The president, co-president and his wife were probably silenced while the other 5 fled for their lives. Jean Lobe was happened to be the unlucky one. Somehow, I have this feeling that the intruder that attacked you boys was sent by the General."
"Like every conspiracy, the military wants to finish off the remaining 5 so that they could have their findings and use them for their own," Yoji grinned. "Perhaps, the other 4 are alive because they accepted the offer to work for them but Jean Lobe refused and that would have signed his death contract."
"Very clever," Ken remarked. "For someone who spends most of daytime at the television and night time with women."
"At least I learn things from the television and enjoy myself at the same time," Yoji defended. "You should try it for a change."
"No thanks, I wouldn't want to get AIDS."
"Unless you wear protection, I could introduce some brands to you if you are willing to try it."
"Yoji!" Ken's face blushed with embarrassment
"As we were saying," Manx cleared her throat, "General Gloven believes strongly that one of Âme's creations may be living in Japan. And since this would be a needle in the haystack, we would have to wait till something pops out of the stack. Till then, be ready."
"Yes, Madam," Yoji jokingly saluted her. "Till then, time for me for my daily hours at the night clubs."
"You are really relaxed about contracting AIDS, aren't you?"
Omi awoke from his nap and realized that it was already evening. Rubbing his sleepy eyes and muttering to himself for napping for so long, Omi prepared to return to the florist shop where the rest would be expecting him to be back. Just then, he heard someone calling out his name. He turned and saw André running up to him.
"Masson-sensei…"
André held out his hand, "You don't have to call me that since school is over. Just André will do." He pulled his bag higher over his shoulder. "I'm going to the boulangerie to work. Are you heading the same direction as me?"
"Un…" said Omi, feeling very awkward that a teacher being so causal towards his students.
On the way, André decided to do the first move and started talking more about himself. André's Japanese mother died when he was born and his French father transferred his sorrows into his work and business, leaving André to boarding schools most of the time. As he grew older and more independent, André became weary of the stiff 'artistic' French culture and make a decision to live in Japan. The main intention was to find out more about his mother. However, the search for her family background was very difficult and André had feared that she could be disowned for marrying a foreigner. Nevertheless, André hoped that he would learn more about the Japanese culture since he had his mother's blood in him. Omi listened as much as he can but his thoughts dwelled on the painful discovery of his family background – the disowning by his father and his recent killing of his own brothers. Deep inside, he envied the less complex background that André has.
"Ne, Omi, do you have any girls attached to you?"
"Masson-sensei!!" Omi blurted out. His cheeks were burning.
"Come on, a cute looking boy like you shouldn't find difficulty in finding girls." André looked at Omi and saw a shadow of sadness on his face although Omi tried to look straight ahead undistributed. Patting him encouragingly on the shoulder, André kept silent as the two men approached the florist shop.
The door opened and a red haired woman dressed in red stepped out followed by a brown haired man, which André recognized him as Ken.
"Thank you very much, please come back again," thanked Ken, bowing politely. Looking up, he saw Manx looking at something. He turned his head as well. "Oh… Omi and André-san."
"Bonsoir (good evening)," greeted André. The red haired woman's eyes immediately set upon him. Omi sensed the alertness of Manx and André feeling very uncomfortable at the unwanted response.
"Etto… André, this is Sakura-san, a regular customer of this shop. Sakura-san, this is André who works at the boulangerie just down the street."
"Sou desu ka," answered Manx, played along. "Dozo Hajimemashita."
"Dozo Hajimemashita," André replied. "Well then, I better get going before the boss fines me for being late. See you at school, Omi."
Manx's eyes locked onto André till he disappeared inside the bakery shop. Omi, feeling unsure of what had happened, asked cautiously, "Manx, what's wrong?"
"Oh nothing," Manx waved her hand in mid-air. "It's that I feel very insecure when there are so many foreigners popping out here," Clicking her tongue, "particularly the French."
The moon lowered its rays upon the brightly glittered streets where the nightclubs dominated. These were the places where people from all walks of life come to drown their earthly burdens in heavy liquors as they refuge under the deafening notorious music. In a room at the second level, a couple was indulged themselves into the unrepentant delights of the flesh. Cries and moans of lust and ecstasy lined the 4 corners of the room steamed by sweat of passion from their naked bodies and their inner hunger elevated to the darkness of the night. Then, when the peak was reached and passed, the woman playfully placed herself on the back of her male companion.
"Yoji-san," She squeezed his body with her legs. "The experience was sensational." Bending down to his ears, "care to do it again."
"Not now, sweetie. I'm exhausted," Yoji murmured sleepy. "Ah .. ah… ah… not the neck…" He turned over, pushing her aside. "You are quite a kitten, aren't you?"
"Why not?" She pulled him closer to her, "You are like a famished lion yourself. You are not satisfied with just only once."
"Really?" He growled, sinking his teeth onto her soft part of her neck. "Then, you have to try to fill me." She giggled and eagerly wrapped her legs around him.
A few hours later, Yoji buckled up his pants, slipped into a shirt and a jacket and left the room where his kitten laid quietly underneath the covers. He held out his arm and looked at his wristwatch. It was 3 in the morning yet the night was still young for the night lovers. Heading towards the bar counter, Yoji ordered a martini. While waiting, he leaned lazily and watched the showgirls dancing. If there were ever a religious puritan in this place, he would have condemned everybody to eternal hell. But to Yoji, those girls were trying to earn a living and the people like him were trying to get life to pass them as quickly as possible. It wasn't like they didn't have a life but it was the need to be away from the cold harsh reality that daily whipped the life out of them.
Chewing onto the olive from his martini, Yoji's sharp eyes caught someone familiar dressed in glossy purple shirt and midnight black pants. His shoulder-length raven hair tied in mini plaits, seaweed green eyes and features like a Eurasian. He frowned as his mind was tracking the name that would fit that description. The stranger turned towards the staircase, his face was half revealed. Yoji's eyebrows were raised in recognition. André Masson! Finishing his martini, Yoji walked briskly up the stairs. Well well well, who would have thought that the half French, half Japanese baker would be in a place like this? Wait till he tells the others of his findings.
Yoji spotted André entering into one of the rooms, treading like a mouse towards the door and about to knock onto it when he heard André's slightly displeased voice. It sounded rather unpleasant.
"What are you doing here?"
"Like I have always been doing, looking out for you," answered a deeper raspy voice. "It's my duty as your frère."
"I don't need you to look after me. I can take care of myself."
"Oh really? Seems to me that you have forgotten about certain things and become soften in the process. Is it that being a local baker and part-time teacher that has made you to forget what you should have always remember inside that brain of yours?"
"I haven't forgotten about it." A moment of bitter silence passed. "Now, why are you here?"
"Qui-vous-savez (you-know-who) is here."
"Impossible! When?"
"Recently, I discovered it from Jean Lobe's files. He's here. They know my location."
"Then, why are you here? You should be leaving now."
"I wanted to but I have to warn you first."
"Should I thank you?"
"Doesn't matter if you don't, they will be after you once they know that you are here."
"As long as I don't get myself into trouble deliberately."
"You have. By mingling yourself with these people, you already have. You have given yourself out."
"And what right do you have to judge me?"
"You must remember. These people are with them. They will never accept us. They will gladly send us back there."
"That's being prejudice!"
"Really? Have you ever try telling them about how were you made? That you weren't created naturally like they are. Do you think that they will still have the same opinion about you after the truth is revealed?"
"Se taire! (Shut up!)" André's voice went higher.
"Do you really think that you could be one of them? To be able to experience the life that they have? You know that you never will."
"Se taire! (Shut up!)" Yoji could imagine André covering his ears.
"Sure you could but you be just watching them from afar. They will be like the figures in the movie, passing by. You'll just scratch the surface but never touching what they have, what they feel. Listen up kid. You will be never, and I say that again, never be part of them."
"Se taire! Se taire! Se taire!" A heavy thud fell onto the floor.
The stranger gasped and coughed. Then, he gave an eerie laughter.
"Tres bien. (Very good). Looks like you still have the fighter spirit in you." The sound of boots pounding forward. "As I have said earlier, I'm your frère, neuf-trois-sept-neuf, I'll look after you." He gave a deep sigh. "Comme toujours, tu es beaux."
Yoji bit his lip in annoyance because he couldn't understand a single word that they were saying. Darn the French! At least, he did manage to hear one very important name – Jean Lobe. How did that stranger know about him and what was his connection with André? And why was everything so quiet? What could they be doing? Yoji had a sudden awful feeling of what they could be doing. Holding his breath, he slides down the staircase, out of the nightclub and straight for his car. Breathing out, Yoji turned on the engine and rode out into the main road. Things seemed to be tensed back there and it was a damn waste that he couldn't understand anything. He wished that Aya was here to overhear their conversation. That if he could drag him here. Then, he saw something at the car window screen. It was something running behind. He turned around and to his horror or shock; it was a black leather-suited person with the tribal witchdoctor's mask.
It's him!
Turning back, Yoji stepped on the accelerator.
How could he be so stupid and so deaf?
That was him in the room with André!
How could anyone run so fast?
Could he be one of the creations that Âme had created?
He turned back and like he strongly expected, the tribal masked intruder was gone.
DAMN IT!!!
Knowing that fleeing is not the best option, Yoji swirled his car to a bend of the highway road. The car's tires gave a screeching stop. The door clicked open and Yoji stepped out, armed with his usual weapon and an additional revolver. Since one wasn't sure what he's up against the creations of Âme, its better to take extra precaution. Depending heavily on his night vision and the assassin instincts, Yoji's breathing patterns didn't make much improvement. Beads of sweat trickled down his face. He hated the compressing silence of the surroundings. Both his heart and mind were conveying the same message of inner fear.
Like a predator hunting the prey…Just then, Yoji spotted a shadow peeping behind a lamppost. He fired. Cracking of glass and gunpowder smell covered the area. Cursing to himself for giving away his position and damaging the lamppost, which had added in more darkness to the night already. With his back leaning to the car, he slid his hand into his pocket and pressed the buttons of his handphone. Swiftly, he threw his sunglasses onto the ground, his jacket to over the fence of the highway road. Grinning devilishly, he shouted out boldly.
"Why don't you come out and show yourself? Aren't we all too old to play the childish game of hide-and-seek? Why don't we fight one on one like real men?"
The intruder with the tribal witch doctor's mask emerged out from the coverings of the dark and walked onto the dim lights provided from the headlights of Yoji's car.
"I must give credit to your willing to meet the Bon Dieu. Most people that I had met are trembled like babies before they passed away. The ironic thing is that if you had minded your own business, this wouldn't have happened to you. Yet, due to circumstances, you have to go. If not, your presence will indeed jeopardize my siblings' existence."
"Why don't we save the formality and get on with what both of us are intending to do?"
"As…
You…
Wish…"
The alarm clock rang at precisely 7 o'clock. A sleeping figure well wrapped in the blankets drowsily reached out his hand and fumbled to hit the top button of the clock. Strands of red hair poked out from the covers and slowly out came the manly figures of Aya. Bending down to the floor where his crumpled T-shirt laid, he picked it up, flagged it a little before wearing. He looked at the door of his bedroom. A soft knock was heard and the door creaked open. An elderly woman with motherly warmness entered and said.
"Ohayō (good morning), Ran. Get dressed, it's time to go to school with your sister, Aya…"
The beeping sound of the alarm clock penetrated into Aya's ears and awoke him. Aya get straight up and felt the cool air upon his bare skin. Bending down to the floor where his crumpled T-shirt laid, he picked it up, flagged it a little before wearing. His eyes looked at the door of his bedroom. The clock ticked the few minutes of empty silence but nothing happened. Aya said nothing and walked towards the dressing table. Pulling out a drawer, he took out a faded family photo that was brunt around the edges. He fingered the faces of those in the photo.
"Ohayō otōsan (father), okāsan…" His finger went to little girl with plaited hair. "Aya…"
Aya proceeded to the kitchen, where he made himself a cup of hot cocoa and some toast. While chewing on his buttered toast, he read Omi's note pasted on the refrigerator's notice board. It was nothing much except he would be late due to extra-curriculum activities. Washing his toast down with the cocoa, he walked along the hallway where the sleepy Ken greeted him.
"Ohayō, Aya." Ken gave a loud yawn.
"Ohayō, Ken. Where's Yoji?"
"Probably still sleeping, you know him with his daily night exercises, he will sleep all the way through morning. No point trying to wake him up." Ken yawned again. "Sorry, I think I need my coffee."
"The water has been already boiled."
"Thanks."
Knocking onto the door, he waited for some form of a reply, at least a grumpy ramble or something. Strangely, there was no answer. Aya placed his hand onto the doorknob and turned. The door obediently opened widely. The bed was neatly tucked in; the chairs, tables, radio, CDs and DVDs were all placed tidily. Aya was rather half-surprised, usually Yoji would return home before dawn. He hardly stayed overnight unless there was a mission, which involved seducing women (a specialty of Yoji's) or some other reasons to give an excuse not to work at the florist. He decided to choose the latter reason. Upon leaving the room, he saw a blinking green light on the telephone. Walking towards it, he saw the screen displaying the word 'message'. Time: 4.38a.m. Probably, his female companion was mad at him for leaving the room instead of being with her till morning.
Feeling a tempting urge of curiosity of how her reaction would be like, he gingerly pressed the 'play' button. The screen changed, displaying.
CYCLAMEN – KIKAI HIGHWAY"Cyclamen…." With realization, Aya instantly picked up the receiver and dialed a number.
"Manx, it's me, Aya. Yoji is in danger. Last location is at…"
André Masson splashed icy cold water onto his face from the basin. He gave out a frustrated sigh. Why did he have to appear when he had just managed to settle down? It wasn't fair to him… What right did he have to be the thorn of his life?
Really? Have you ever try telling them about how were you made? That you weren't created naturally like they are. Do you think that they will still have the same opinion about you after the truth is revealed?
"I can't tell them… I know I can't…"
Do you really think that you could be one of them? To be able to experience the life that they have? You know that you never will.
"I could if I try hard enough… I could…"
Sure you could but you be just watching them from afar. They will be like the figures in the movie, passing by. You'll just scratch the surface but never touching what they have, what they feel. Listen up kid. You will be never, and I say that again, never be part of them.
"That's a lie…. That's a lie…" André sank to the floor, his arms clutching tightly around him. "That's a lie…"
I'm your frère, neuf-trois-sept-neuf, I'll look after you….
André watched him taking off his mask, showing his ruff red hair and the devilishly twinkle in his blue eyes. A thin stream of blood dripped down the unshaved chin. He wiped it away with the back of his hand. He smiled like he enjoyed the taste of blood in his mouth. Walking forward, he placed both palms on André's face; his fingers fingered the smooth curves of the Eurasian features.
Comme toujours, tu es beaux…André could remember him bending his head and shoving his tongue into his mouth. He remembered resisting him but Frère was much stronger than him. With little effort, he was pushed onto the floor. Frère forcefully kissed again and again, not allowing one moment for André to catch his breath. His fingers artlessly unbuttoned the first one, then at the second. He swiftly pinned both his wrists with one hand while the other unbuttoned the rest and fondled his chest.
Comme toujours, tu es beaux…
Then, for no reason, Frère stopped and turned his attention at the door. His fingers pressed against his own lips. André remembered hearing the footsteps of someone walking down the staircase in a slow and unsteady way. Frère got up, put on his tribal mask and roughly told him to leave and lay low for a few days. Within seconds, he was gone like he had always been doing. Appearing in and out of André's life as and when he pleased.
Comme toujours, tu es beaux…
When he's away, André felt the peace and the security that he needed so badly. The sense of belonging somewhere without having the fear of being found out. Now, Frère was like the throwing stone in the still pond, causing ripples to spread out, tearing up every flow of his life. Every time, he found a haven, Frère would be the one to shatter it to pieces.
Neuf-trois-sept-neuf…
"No, I'm not neuf-trois-sept-neuf. I'm André Masson…"
Neuf-trois-sept-neuf…
You must remember. These people are with them. They will never accept us. They will gladly send us back there
Neuf-trois-sept-neuf…
Neuf-trois-sept-neuf… Neuf-trois-sept-neuf…"NO!! I'M ANDRÉ MASSON!!!"
He screamed, smashing his fist into a wall mirror. The broken pieces of glass dropped to the ground, shattering into finer bits smeared with blood. Light from the ceiling reflected its rays upon the remaining segments of glass that survived the fall. All of them were reflecting André's fragment images bursting into tears of torment and loneliness.
À Suivre