Chapter XII
"A gentleman never dances so well as the dancing master,
and an ordinary fiddler makes better musique for a shilling
than a gentleman will do after spending forty..."
-- The Diary of Samuel Pepys, January 27, 1664
The inside of Reika's car was a bedlam of voices. He had been able to convince Reika and Arisu to take him down to Shinjuko without having to reveal his exact destination or reason, with Reika trusting Taro and Arisu trusting Reika. But eventually he had to tell them that they were going to a memory-restoration station hidden on the third floor of the Pleasure Palace, and that's when the denials began.
It is very hard to recognize that you have missing memories when you can't remember having or losing them. Neither of them knew of Juri Kato's death, and the drug cocktail from the night before ensured that they were very hazy about what happened after they encountered the Men in Black. In the end, Reika was convinced that Arisu needed the memory restoration, since she kept insisting that she had just celebrated her twenty-fifth birthday the week before. Plus, she was convinced her young life was utterly devoid of meaning and there was little reason to look forward to a twenty-sixth birthday.
The vision most people have of the future often includes a cure to traffic, but sadly, that dream has never been realized. The railway, first built three quarters of a century ago, was still at ground level in several places despite dozens of citizen petitions and rallies over the decades. And the roads still intersected it at three places in Shinjuko, most notably at the station. So it was that Reika's car was waiting at the railway crossing for the 17:15 to depart.
Figuring this was a good a time as any, Taro got out his HandiNavi. "5-P, are you active?" he asked the unit.
"Fully operational, Taro," his own voice answered him. "What can I do for you?"
"Where can I find a fully-operational version of Masami Eiri's undelete program?"
"There is one copy sitting on the public server of the Tachibana Central Committee."
"I'd like you to send that program to all five of my e-mail addresses, without leaving any traces whatsoever."
"Done."
"What was that all about?" asked Reika over her shoulder.
"That," Taro smiled, "was the crowning achievement of my adult life."
"Huh?" asked Arisu.
"Well, I could tell you all about it, but I'd have to do it again once you got your memories replaced, so we'll just leave it at that for now."
Just then Reika shouted in alarm. While they were talking, a pair of black limousines had surrounded the car. A shaded window rolled down to reveal a man in a black trench coat wielding a machine gun. At his orders, Reika pulled out of line and drove off of the road onto the gravel that ran alongside the tracks. The second limousine followed to prevent escape.
Once out of sight of witnesses, the rear two vehicles stopped and the lead limousine turned around so that the car was bathed in the glare of two pairs of spotlights. Four men in matching black trench coats emerged from each limo, all of them armed. The men surrounded the car and ordered its occupants to exit slowly. Once this had been done and the three had been inspected for any weapons, the passenger-side door of the lead limousine opened and out stepped a short, plain woman wearing a white trench coat and wide-brimmed hat. She was followed by the driver, the same man Taro had seen with Mika Iwakura the night before. All of them were wearing sunglasses, which gave them the advantage with the setting sun and the halogen spotlights in everyone's eyes.
The woman walked up to each of her captives and examined them closely, a wide grin distorting a tight face that had probably been treated to plastic surgery once too often. "Reika Yamamoto, Taro Okada, and Arisu Mizuki," she said as she ticked them off on her fingers. "Once upon a time, it was Reika Yamamoto, Arisu Mizuki, and Juri Kato, but then Ms. Kato discovered something Tachibana didn't want known, so she was erased."
"Excuse me," asked Taro politely, "do you mind telling us who you are?"
"I represent the Corporate Security Guard of the Big Eight Corporations. My name is of no importance to you, although my title as Director will soon teach you the meaning of fear!" With a bit of an effort, Taro resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the melodramatics.
Reika was confused. "I thought Central Security Service serves the Big Eight."
The woman shook her fist at Reika. "The CCS represents the evil corporation Tachibana! CSG protects the Big Eight under the benevolent leadership of Instant Foods. The Big Eight only follow the dictates of Tachibana because it serves their interests, but now you three will provide me, err, provide the Big Eight, with the tool that will break Tachibana and make the Big Eight supreme! Now..."
The Director did not get a chance to finish this particular rant, as the 17:15 train suddenly lurched forward with a scream from its whistle. Suffering from an inexplicable fear of trains that stretched back to middle school, the woman in white practically leaped into the arms of her bodyguard/secretary. Taro, Reika, and several of the men with guns sighed in unison at this unprofessional display.
Recovering from her shock, the woman straightened up, brushed off her coat, adjusted her hat, and turned to face her captives once again. "Now, then..."
She got no further, for at that moment a dozen black cars drove into the commuter parking lot on the opposite side of the train tracks. The cars pulled simultaneously into equally spaced parking spaces. Twelve engines died as one, then twenty-four headlights turned off together, then twenty-four doors opened in a single movement, and twenty-four men wearing twenty-four identical black suits and twenty-four identical pairs of Navishades emerged. They were all roughly the same height and build, and all had the same semi-military haircuts. The men walked forward in unison, not marched, because that would have been easy. As they approached, the men drew closer and closer together, until they formed a phalanx, six across and four deep. They came to perfect formation just as they stopped a few feet from the railway tracks. At that precise moment Mika Iwakura stepped forward from their ranks, dressed in an elaborate red suit, and stopped in dress position as her squadron fell into attention behind her. There was no possible way she could have gotten to that position without being seen by one of the witnesses, and yet she pulled it off. The eight CSG men all made unfavorable conclusions about how cool their jobs were. No one seemed to notice that two of the Men in Black in the back row were nursing rather large clipboard-shaped bruises on the backs of their heads. They suspected that their boss had spared their lives at the auditorium only because she didn't want any gaps in her phalanx.
The CSG Director dashed forward to her side of the tracks and shook her other fist at her rival. "Mika Iwakura!" she cried in a strained voice. "It appears I have the upper hand! I have your precious captives, and there's nothing you can do about it!"
Mika addressed the Director with a steely gaze. "Now, now, Stacy, no need to get yourself worked up," she stated in a patronizing tone. The Director shook all over with rage. Mika had never addressed her by her real name, but instead took pleasure in giving her the most painful nicknames imaginable. This one stemmed from the time when her mother had given her a Moonbase Stacy doll instead of Moonbase Barbie at her tenth birthday. And everyone was watching me open it, Mom! How could you humiliate me like that! I hate you!!!
"Earth to Stacy!" called out Mika, causing the Director to return to the present day. "You need to stop taking things so personally. Oh, and another thing: that wardrobe is so Twentieth Century it's making me nostalgic. And as for you," she added, addressing her former employee in an even tone, "you're a dead man. But don't expect it to happen immediately. I find the fear of anticipation to be even more agonizing to my victims than the actual act, as I'm sure you remember witnessing on several occasions." She then turned to leave.
"Wait!" cried the Director. "I've got Juri Kato's prize, the universal undelete! Don't you at least want to fight for it?"
Mika stopped suddenly and stood with her back to the tracks for several moments before turning to reveal that she was laughing uproariously. "Douglas!" she cried. "Is this your doing?"
The bodyguard smiled wickedly. The Director looked wildly between the two of them. "Wait! What's going on here?" she asked desperately.
Mika advanced to the tracks, a large smile on her face as she rubbed her chin in thought. "Let me get this straight," she stated, "you told her that Monday's hacker attack was a success, right? And that she had entrusted the undelete program she successfully stole to Yamamoto or Mizuki?"
"Actually," replied Douglas, "I said she gave it to Professor Okada."
"Professor Okada!" cried Mika. "Oh, that's rich! So, Stacy and the Dick Tracey's capture them, turn them over to the Big Eight, who then find out they know absolutely nothing, and she gets the blame when Tachibana exposes them for violation of human liberties!"
"Something like that," admitted Douglas sheepishly.
"Hey, wait a second, I thought she tried to kill you!" interrupted the Director, whose brain was about two minutes behind by this point.
Mika ignored her. "That is so brilliant!" she cried. "I love it! All is forgiven, Douglas!"
Douglas calmly removed his trench coat and gun belt and placed them in the Director's arms. "Just for your information," he told her, "the coat was a little tight in the shoulders."
"But, but..." the Director sputtered, as Douglas crossed the tracks and linked arms with his resumed employer. The two walked into the ranks of the Men in Black, their eyes only on each other. The men instantly disbursed to their cars and drove away, making Mika's exit just as awe-inspiring as her entrance.
"But, but!" The Director turned around and looked around her, her bewilderment changing to rage. "Well, what are you bozos still standing around here for? Go home, the lot of you!"
"Excuse me, madam," offered Taro.
"Whaaaat?" she whined in reply.
"I believe I still have something of value to offer your organization."
