An Alternate Story of the Knight Sabers
2034 Year of the Tiger
Neo No Armour Against Fate (Section 3 of 5)
Satisfaction For a Sin (2 of 8)
by Shawn Hagen(1999;2005)
Based on situations and characters created by Suzuki Toshimichi.
March 2nd, Thursday, 10:23am
Priss sat at the kitchen table, pages scattered across the tabletop, a battered laptop by her elbow. She had returned to Nene's house a little more than an hour before. After taking a shower, she had come down to the kitchen to write.
The kitchen's windows caught the morning sun, putting the table into a pool of light. Priss liked that. It was quiet, but for the almost silent hum of the refrigerator, and it was comfortable. Having lived for so long in institutional housing, then in various places like storage sheds and her trailer, she had forgotten what is was like to be in such a place. Hell, there was even a doll stand up for HinamatsuriGirl's Festival.
Nene could be so immature.
Priss reached over and typed on the keyboard for a moment. She hit enter and then listened as the music played out. With the small speakers, and the tinny sound, it was hard to be sure if the music was exactly what she wanted. She turned to the page and made a few changes. She could try it out later on the keyboard she had upstairs.
She was turning her attention back to the lyrics when she heard the sound of the front door opening.
"I'm back," she heard Ali call out. The woman's voice sounded tired.
Priss did not say anything, instead she got up and walked over to the coffee maker. When Ali looked into the kitchen she was filling a mug.
"Asagiri-san, good morning," Ali said.
"Morning," Priss said. "Here." She handed the mug to Ali.
Ali smiled. "Thanks," she took it then lifted it to her lips. She closed her eyes then inhaled the steam over it, then smiled. After taking a drink she looked at Priss. "A woman after my own heart. Your coffee could remove paint."
Priss smiled in spite of herself as she took her seat and shifted the lyrics sheet in front of her. "Just something I learned."
"I had a friend in University who made coffee like this," Ali told her as she walked to the refrigerator. "We lived on it during exams." Ali opened the fridge's door and looked in. "Been shopping again I see. I don't suppose I could get you to take money for the groceries this time?"
"I'm just being a polite guest," Priss told her.
Ali looked around the kitchen. It was cleaner than when she had left the night before. "Very polite," Ali said.
"So, you're not usually home this early," Priss said, more by way of making conversation. She was looking over the lyrics, scratching out words, putting in new ones.
"Got a call last night a little after midnight. They needed me for an emergency case." Ali sat down across from Priss.
"That would be brain surgery, right?" Priss looked up at Ali.
"Yes." She smiled. "I don't get a chance to do that very often these days."
Priss nodded, then looked back at her work, reading it over.
"How do you do that?" Ali asked.
"Do what?" Priss looked up again.
"Write like that, find the words you need?"
"I just do. How do you confidently work on people's brains?"
Ali nodded. "I guess I just do."
"There you go," Priss said, then went back to work. Ali finished drinking her coffee, then got up and retrieved a carton on milk from the refrigerator. After she filled her glass she returned to her seat.
Priss looked up after a few minutes, putting her pencil aside. "Can I ask you something?"
"I can't promise to answer," Ali told her.
"Why did you invite me to stay here?"
"I needed someone to buy my groceries and clean the kitchen. Nene-chan never does it," Ali said with a smile.
Priss found herself smiling again. "No, really?"
"Do you really want to know?" Ali asked, sounding serious.
Priss nodded.
Ali finished off the milk she was drinking, then got up and walked over to the sink. "Nene-chan has told me a little about you," Ali said as she turned on the water and rinsed out the glass. "Probably not as much as she knows, but enough for me." Ali turned the water off then leaned over to open her dishwasher. She stopped when she saw the dishes within were clean. "It gave me an idea about who you were." She closed the dishwasher then put the glass in the sink.
"Care to tell me who I am?"
"Maybe later." Ali walked over and took her seat again. "I think you have gone though a lot, and have lost a lot. I also think you have suffered through those losses alone." Ali stopped and looked at Priss, as if asking her is she wanted Ali to continue.
"Maybe," Priss said, shrugging her shoulders.
"I thought that maybe this time you would be better off not so alone. So I told Nene-chan to offer you a place to stay."
"Trying to save the world?" Priss asked.
"Just you right now," Ali said simply.
"What makes you think I want to be saved?"
"I don't know if you do, but you have to give me credit for trying."
Priss laughed through her nose. "You are full of yourself."
"Maybe. You spend a lot of time avoiding us."
"What?"
"You keep to yourself for the most part, yet you are very polite about it. Why so polite?"
"I understand the workings of polite society. I may not have a lot of time for it, but I can play that game."
"I think you are a decent person Asagiri-san, self-sufficient and tough, but decent. Give yourself more credit."
Priss looked at Ali for a moment. "No wonder Nene-san ran away."
Ali laughed. "Perhaps that is true. It would be sad if I did not learn from my mistakes, then again, you are more mature than Nene-chan was."
"It would be hard not to be."
"True, in some ways. If you want help, I'll try. If you don't want help, I'll still try."
"That might be a dangerous thing to do."
"I'll take my chances," Ali said as she got to her feet. "I'm going to pass out now. Thanks for the coffee."
Priss watched as Ali walked away. She waited until Ali was almost out of sight. "Romanova-san," Priss called. Ali looked back. "Thanks."
Ali nodded, then turned and disappeared around the corner.
Priss shook her head as she went back to her work. That woman was going to get to her if she was not careful.
March 1st, Wednesday, 23:02, Hamilton, Ontario, Canada
D was silent as she moved through the rafters of the huge factory. Below her, in the dim illumination of the emergency lights, were her opponents.
She stopped, hanging onto a support beam with one hand, dangling over a twenty-meter drop. Below her, travelling along a halted assembly line, were two guards. She watched them, picking out their mistakes, discounting them as threats for the time being.
From the pocket of her flak jacket she removed a small explosive device, then clipped it onto the beam just below her. She began squeezing the plastic casing, stopping when she felt the slight grinding that indicated it was armed.
D pulled herself up onto one of the thicker support beams, leaving the explosive behind. On all fours she moved at speed along the narrow pathway.
Sixty meters along she came to large open space. Stopping suddenly, she rocked back onto her heels, coiled her legs beneath herself and leapt up. Eight meters above her she grabbed hold of a crane railing and pulled herself onto it.
As she placed and armed another explosive D looked down on the main assembly floor beneath her. The guards moved between the completed bodies of the light tanks, searching for her. Not one of them had put on their night vision goggles. There was enough light down on the floor for them to see by, but they were missing so much.
Straightening, she took several steps back along the rail then ran towards the end and leapt. With the black body suit and black flak jacket she was no more than another shadow in the dark building. She easily cleared the space between the crane rail and a catwalk on the far wall. The metal of the catwalk rang out with a clanging sound that echoed through the area as she landed.
She pulled an SMG from under her jacket and waited, counting the seconds. Twelve later the first shot rang out from the floor. It was ten meters to her right. They were going to need help.
Reaching forward she twisted the flash and sound suppresser free from the end of the SMG's barrel. One handed, she squeezed off a burst of 10mm ammunition, taking one of the guards down with a head shot.
As the woman fell back her companions opened up on D's location. D dropped onto the catwalk, screwing the flash and sound suppresser back on. She had been hit three times but the rounds had not penetrated the armour weave of her jacket or her bodysuit.
From her perch she began to pick off the guards below with three round bursts. She had to kill five before they moved out of the light, using the cover around them. Slow learners, D thought, getting up and running towards an exit.
By now the guards on the floor would be radioing for backup. There would be at least three more minutes of confusion before they realised their attacker was gone. That should give her the time she needed.
Hitting the door of the exit hard, she snapped the locking bolt and almost tore it off its hinges. Sloppy, she thought, letting her momentum carry her over the railing of the stairs, landing one flight down. The door being broken like that would suggest a strong person. That would point to a boomer. She had to hope that most of the evidence would be destroyed. Damn, she thought, hating it that she had made such a mistake.
She charged down the stairs, taking them three at a time. She surprised two guards coming up. They were just bringing their weapons up when D fired, taking both out clean with head shotsand emptying her weapon. She jumped over their bodies, hardly breaking stride as she tossed the SMG away.
Two more flights down she reached a locked door. She stopped and removed a set of tools from a pouch on her belt. By now the guards would be getting help, they would be beginning to fan out, sending people up into the catwalk. She had a minute at most before they found the broken door, but she thought thirty seconds more likely.
The lock clicked open and D entered the factory's central computer facility. As she took a seat in front of one of the terminals D removed a radio detonator from her jacket pocket. Thirteen seconds she thought, turning on the computer.
She peeled back a flap of skin on the inside of her wrist and pulled two thin cables from her arm and plugged them into the computer. Twenty seconds, she thought, beginning to type.
Data began to scroll across the screen. Twenty-five seconds, D thought as she pushed two black MMSDs into the drives and started the download.
At thirty seconds she pressed the detonator button. The room shook slightly and she could hear the roar of the explosions. The military grade plastique packed quite a bit of power. The lights in the room dimmed and the computer crashed as power cables went.
The interface cables came free from the computer and retracted back into her wrist. D pulled both MMSDs from the drives, letting one fly from her hand. and bounced across the floor. As she ran from the room she pocketed the other disk.
She took another corridor that led away from the direction she had originally come. It sloped down for nearly fifty meters before turning upwards. She reached under her jacket and removed a silver and black Browning Super High Power.
The sounds of alarms were beginning to reach her; there would be fires in the factory, large ones in fact. She had set two charges near the fuel depot. The fires would not reach the area she was in, however.
The tunnel forked, she took the right one, charging up it. There was a faint, reddish light ahead of her, one of the emergency spotlights. She cocked the pistol and continued along the tunnel. The faint light was amplified by her eyes, showing her everything as clear as day. Two men, both with pistols, coming out to examine the area. She waited until she was close as possible then took both of them down. In the confined space the heavy pistol's discharge sounded like thunder.
She jumped over the dead bodies even as they were falling and ran towards a doorway.
A woman stepped out, an SMG in her hands. D took her down before she could fire, and then was by her, into the room. Two men, one standing, one on the floor, and a woman. The man on the floor had his arms wrapped around two children, girls. The dark room was lit by gunfire as D and the bodyguards began firing. The man with the shotgun went down, firing into the ceiling as he fell.
D felt a round hit her in the shoulder, piercing the armour weave of her jacket and the bodysuit beneath it to lodge in her shoulder. Twenty three percent drop in mobility, minor damage, D's housekeeping computer told her.
The man on the ground jerked forward as a round from D's pistol took him in the head. The girls, already screaming, probably did not know he was dead.
Another of the armour piercing rounds from the woman's pistol embedded itself in the concrete just beside D's head.
The woman fell back as two rounds hit her, one in the chest, one in the face.
D continued to run through the room, pushing open the door in the far wall and stumbling out into the night.
She ran along the walkway just above the waters of Hamilton Harbour then leapt in, sliding the pistol into the shoulder holster just before she hit the water. She dove deep and swam, heading away from the burning factory and the dead.
Industrial espionage was a young person's game. At thirty-three Angeline Deviers was a senior citizen. She had started out with a small group, monkey wrenching oil rigs in the Arctic Sea when she was seventeen. At 21 she had been liberating company assets, everything from prototype software to top notch researchers.
It had taken a lot out of her.
D knew that, it was why she had taken advantage of the woman's presence.
The alarms on the safe house were among the best available anywhere, they were so good they were not even on the market. They also happened to be made by a Genom subsidiary. Someone was leaking product. On the bright side that made bypassing them easy.
She moved through the house, making as much noise as a cat might, even less in factshe did not have to breathe.
She stopped by the half open door that led into the living room, listening to the moaning and cries. Angeline was high on heroin, being abused by two prostitutes and tied to a couchit was very unlikely that Miss Deviers would ever be aware anyone had been in her safe house.
D slipped past the door and climbed the stairs. It was sad in a way. Genom had made use of Angeline as one of its Black Op operatives, up until two years before when her heroin addiction became known.
The luggage in Angeline's room was not even locked. D opened a suitcase, moved the lingerie out of the way and placed the Browning back into its nest of silk and lace. It was clean and reloaded, one in the chamber, just as it had been when D had taken it earlier.
Angeline was sloppy and careless and she would likely get killed soon. D moved the clothing back into place then closed the suitcase.
Next she opened a briefcaseinside was a computer and a number of related items. D put one of the black MMSDs into a newly opened box of disks. There was a little space left, as if one more could fit. D closed the briefcase.
A minute later she was out on the streets of the Toronto suburb. Sunrise was some time away, she would have time to get to the CN Tower to view it, the sunrise. The sight as the dawn's light struck the still uncompleted structure of the new Genom Tower was beautiful.
March 2, 15:58, MegaTokyo
When Sylia stepped out of the elevator she was greeted by piano music. She shook her head and walked towards her living room. She was not at all surprised to see Priss seated at the piano, fingers flying across the keyboard. Fast music, with a hard beat, though Priss kept it soft enough that it was not filling the penthouse.
She stopped playing, picked up a pencil, and then began making changes to the music. "I didn't think you'd mind," Priss said, not looking back at Sylia.
"It's nice to see that someone plays the instrument."
"You don't play, do you?" Priss asked, putting the pencil aside, then looking over her shoulder at Sylia.
"I can, but not very well."
"So the piano is some holdover from lessons long ago?"
"Something like that."
Priss nodded and turned back to the keys. She paused for a moment, then placed her fingers on the key and started playing. A Mozart sonata. She kept it up for nearly a minute before stopping.
"I'm a little surprised," Sylia admitted.
"Music is music." Priss shrugged her shoulders.
"I suppose. So, why did you want to see me? I suspect you did not come over here just to use my piano."
Priss nodded as she closed the cover over the keys. She turned on the bench to face Sylia. "I want to find someplace to live."
"Life at Nene-san's house becoming difficult?"
"Not really." Priss smiled. "Still, I'm not planning on staying there forever."
"You want my help?"
"I figure you have a better understanding of real estate than most."
"True." Sylia paused, as if in thought. "I'm going to be selling a number of my properties in the city soon. If there is anything within those that you want, I'll sell it very cheap."
"You don't have to do that," Priss said, not liking what sounded like pity or charity.
"Actually, it will be of use. I'll be making a lot of money in this, a small loss will be useful."
"You'll have to explain to me how that works one day."
Sylia smiled. "Are you just looking for a place to live?" she asked, walking over to the couch and taking a seat.
"Well, I was also hoping to find a place that could serve as a rehearsal space, maybe where I could do a little recording."
"Business expenses," Sylia said.
"What?"
"Business expenses. If you use your place of residence as rehearsal space, and for recording, you can claim part of the overall cost as a tax write off."
Priss nodded after a moment.
"You told me that you are going to be receiving royalties from a movie, and its soundtrack?"
"Yes. I also got some contracts from Reika Chang's people. Vision wants to cover two of my songs."
"There are many options here," Sylia told her. "We can discuss them later. Since you are here, I need to talk to you."
"What?"
"Come along," Sylia said as she got to her feet. "I'll show you." She turned and walked out of the room. Priss followed close behind.
Sylia led Priss into the computer room. She reached over the chair and tapped a command out on the keyboard. Data began to run across the screen.
"What's all this?" Priss asked.
"Names of people that I might recruit, if Linna-san leaves."
"Think she will?"
"I can't even begin to guess," Sylia admitted.
Priss nodded. "So what do we do now?"
Sylia leaned forward and ejected an SD from one of the drives. "Take this," Sylia said, holding up the coin sized disk. "Read through what is there, make note of anyone you don't want me to consider."
Priss took the SD, holding it between her fingers. "What sort of information is on here?"
"Nothing special. Name, a picture, criminal record, if any, education record, employment record, and maybe a little more in some cases. It should be enough for you to make cuts."
"Is this how you found me?"
"More or less. Linna as well. Nene on the other hand found me, in a way."
"I'll take a look at it," Priss told her, shoving it into her pocket. The scratch resistant surface of the SDs could take a lot of punishment so Priss was not worried about it. "Anything else?"
"Not now."
"If we have to, do you think we can replace Linna?"
"We'll find out when the time comes," Sylia told Priss.
"I guess. I've got to go. I'm a little late for the today's rehearsal. Later," Priss said, turning to leave.
"Goodbye." Sylia watched her leave. She leaned over and shut the computer down.
March 4th, 16:32
Priss sat in the passenger seat of the sedan, scrolling through a computer file containing a list of addresses. She found herself tapping the cursor key in time to the swish of the windshield wipers. Beside her a real estate agent that Sylia had recommended drove the car.
He was looking more than a little angry. For the past three days she had made him take her around the city, looking for a new place to live. She had not found any place that she liked, always finding fault with the property he had shown her.
In the seat behind them was Kano Toda. Priss has asked him to come along as he had much more experience than she did when it came to real estate.
"What about this place?" Priss taped the screen of the palmtop computer, calling up more information.
"Which one?" the real estate agent asked hopefully. The two days he had spent with Priss had been too much for him. The sooner she found a place to live the better. "Oh, that one. You wouldn't be interested."
"It's huge," Priss said, looking at the dimensions given. "It's reasonably near the city centre and if this is the actual price I really want to see it," she told him.
"Let me see," Kano said to her.
"Here." She handed the palmtop over the seat to him.
"I see," Kano said after a moment. "The area has just been rezoned as residential, thanks to Genom's MegaTokyo project. The building itself is not residential."
"So I would have to tear it down and build there?" Priss was totally against the idea and her tone made that evident.
"No, not at all. But you would have to like living in an old factory."
"Probably beats the hell out of living in an old trailer. Let's go take a look at this place," she told the agent.
"I'm sure you would not like it."
"How about you let Asagiri-san decide that on her own," Kano said. "I'm sure that you would rather hold off on selling this piece of property so the price would get jacked up, as would your commission, but we are not interested in playing that game."
"Drive," Priss ordered.
"Fine," he said, sounding defeated.
Kano reached into his pocket and removed his NAVI. "I think I can get a copy of the building inspector's report," he told Priss.
Priss nodded. "It sounds like a good idea."
The building was another that Sylia had owned, all of them had been. Priss was more than a little impressed at Sylia's holdings.
Several minutes later the car was pulling into a small parking lot outside of the building Priss had chosen.
"Used to be a textile factory, then a plastic research firm before the quake," Kano said as he exited the car. He was reading information from his NAVI.
"Any problems with it, like broken walls or anything?"
"Structurally it is fine. Probably needs a bunch of minor work, especially if you want to be comfortable. It's insulated, that's a plus. The plastics firm did that."
"The roof leaks, the plumbing is bad and the floor is cracked in several places from the earthquake," the agent said as he led them towards a single door.
"Minor problems at best," Kano said.
"Expensive ones though."
"If Asagiri-san can afford to purchase this piece of real estate than she can also afford to fix up a few minor problems," he told the agent.
Priss was glad she had asked Kano to come along. His expertise was proving invaluable.
The agent produced a key ring and used the keys to unlock two dead bolts. He then tapped a code into a keypad just below the bottom most dead bolt. The door unlockedhe pushed it open and let Priss and Kano enter first.
It was dark inside. Priss could tell she was in a corridor that opened out into a large, dark space several meters farther down. There was a scent in the air, not really bad, but strong. It seemed to be a mix of dampness, perhaps mould, old chemicals and disuse. She wondered when the last time any windows had been opened to a cleansing breeze. She wondered if there were any windows.
"Just a moment," the agent said as he moved between them, reaching out and feeling along the wall. "Here it is." There was a sound of metal on metal, then a loud click as the lights came on. There were not many of them, but it was enough for them to see by.
"There is an office in there." He pointed to a door just to Priss' left. "That was for storage or a change room, and that's a bathroom." He indicated the other two doors. "And that," he indicated the large space, "is the main floor." He walked forward, Priss and Kano followed.
The factory floor was very large, Priss guessed nearly forty meters on each side. The floor was covered by old packing crates, broken machinery and there were a few puddles on the floor some were water, some were not. Off to there left were a number of doors and almost directly in front of her, on the opposite wall, was a staircase. It led up to a second floor that took up only a quarter of the ceiling space.
"Those were main offices, if the lights were on up there you would be able to see the windows that look down on the floor," the estate agent told her.
"What about those doors over there?" Kano waved his hand in the direction of the left wall.
"Storage space mostly. One of them leads into a big shower room."
"Does the central heating still work?" he asked. It had been another one of the odd things that the plastic company had added.
"Probably. I suspect the furnace has to be replaced but all the duct work is fine."
"Central heating? That will be expensive," Priss said.
"Electric furnace," Kano told her. "Electricity is not so bad since Genom got those fusion plants up. And this is Tokyo after all, you shouldn't have to run it at full power all that often. You could also limit most of the heating to wherever you are going to live."
"I guess." Priss started off towards the middle of the floor. Kano followed. The agent stayed behind, guessing they wanted to talk.
"Do you want this place?" Kano asked.
"Yes." Priss nodded after a moment.
"Can you afford it?"
Priss smiled slightly.
"I have some money coming in, from various places. Heard of Vision?"
"Who hasn't?"
"Her next album has covers of two of my songs."
He smiled. "Ah."
"I see you understand."
"So you will buy this with your windfall." He looked around the old factory.
"Not exactly." Priss was also looking around the area, in her mind seeing how everything would look.
"Meaning," he asked when Priss did not elaborate.
"I'll use the royalty checks as collateral to take out a loan. I will also declare this as my place of business, probably as a rehearsal space. That way the loan payments and interest on them are tax deductible."
He stared at her the same way he might stare at a cat that had just grown wings.
"I'm quite capable of taking good advice," Priss told him, sounding a little cross.
"Priss-san, you keep taking good advice like that and you might end up owning this world."
"I don't want the world," she told Kano, then she turned towards the agent. "All right let's get everything rolling, I'm taking this place," Priss yelled to the estate agent.
"Of course," he called back.
"Can you talk to him?" Priss asked Kano.
"This time." He smiled at her "You're going to get respectable you know?" he said as he started towards the agent.
"Living in an old factory? Not likely."
As Kano and the real estate agent talked business Priss wandered around the floor, looking at everything. She pulled musty tarps off of several machines; all of them looking a little beat up. She finally reached the low shape she had been heading towards. She grabbed the tarp and pulled it up.
There was a car underneath, a little messed up but looking to be in pretty good condition. It looked familiar to her, something in the design spoke of speed. She wondered what Miako might think of it? She could probably identify it.
She heard a long hiss and a high pitched growl. On the front seat was a cat and several kittens. The cat was growling at her. She let the tarp drop down to leave the mother and her kittens in peace.
"What about all this junk?" Priss called to the agent.
"It's yours. You can probably get a scrap company to haul it all off for you," he called back to her.
Priss nodded, smiling slightly.
Domino looked down at the screen of her laptop computer, considering the information scrolling across it, trying to decide if it affected her in any way. She reached back and pulled the single braid of her long black hair over her right shoulder and began to worry at the braids. There were a lot of things she had to keep an eye on, relating both to her own department, as well as questions of overall security.
The family that controlled Aphros Industries was in the process of removing David frost from his position as president and things were being shaken up. Hopefully they would learn things from the people who had run from that shake up.
As for the Rathen, talking to his wife and son had not revealed anything, other than he had started behaving very oddly and then had left. They had not even heard from him for over six months. They had yet to find his mistress and Domino suspected that she might have been killed.
So much to consider, and still few answers.
At the sound of the locking bolts sliding back she raised her head and shut the computer off. She stood straight and flipped the braid back over her shoulder. After taking a moment to pull the blazer of her school uniform straight, she ran from the kitchen, heading for the entry hall.
"Welcome home papa," she called out.
"Not tonight Domino-san," Devon said to her. He stood in the genkan, taking his coat off. His straight stature and precise movements belied his real age.
Domino moved forward and took his overcoat. Underneath he wore a dark grey suit made of thick wool.
"You looked tired," she told him as she hung up his coat.
"I am."
"What happened?" She knelt down and removed a pair of slippers from the cabinet by the door, then placed them on the floor.
"Friend's funeral."
During the time Domino had known Devon she had learned more of him, and his position in Genom. He owned seven percent of Genom's stock, a rather impressive amount, all things considered.
He gave Quincy his proxy to vote his shares, and it was believed that Quincy needed those shares. It gave Devon an aura of power within, and outside of, Genom.
Domino suspected Quincy did not need Devon's stock, that even without it he directly owned more than fifty percent of Genom's stock. It made sense that he made his position seem less secure than it really was. Few people realised just how powerful he was. If that was so, and Domino was certain it was, he had voted his own stock against himself a few times just to maintain the illusion.
"Close friend?" she asked.
"I had not talked to her in almost twenty years. It's just reminding me of how old I really am." He stepped out of the genkan and put the slippers on. "Aren't you going to tell me that I'm not that old?" he asked after several seconds.
"No."
He smiled slightly. "Not the toadying yes woman, are you?"
"You wouldn't want a toadying yes woman around you. Would you like a drink?" Domino walked towards the living room.
"Scotch, neat," Devon said as he followed after her.
Domino poured the drink and handed him the glass. "I'll go get dinner."
"Thank you."
She left him in the living room as she returned to the kitchen to finish preparing the meal.
Looking at the simple fare she wondered if it would be good enough. It was the sort of meal that Devon appreciated when she was playing his teenage daughter but not the sort of thing he preferred at other times. It will have to do, she thought.
Domino still was not sure why Mason hated Devon. The more she learned of Devon, the more charming and intelligent he seemed to her.
She had hoped that with the school uniform her relationship with the man might move into more intimate areas, but they had progressed no further than chaste kisses and touches. Sometimes Domino though it might drive her insane.
Devon always claimed he was too old. She knew that for a lie thoughhe had two mistresses. She felt jealous of them.
She took off her blazer and hung it on the back of one of the kitchen chairs before putting the food on the plates. Placing the plates on a tray she carried them into the living room.
"It looks delicious," he told her after Domino had placed his plate in front of him.
"It's nothing special."
They ate in silence for several minutes. Domino was not altogether pleased with the curry.
"What's happening at Genom these days?" he asked her.
"You have higher security clearance than me."
"In theory I would think. You are more current than I am."
"A few hours ago some hacker took a figurative axe to the ICE around the computer core. It was loud and sloppy."
"I take it said hacker is no longer a problem."
"A quick response team neutralised the threat."
"And the part that makes this important enough to mention?" Devon asked her.
"Another hacker was using the commotion to quietly slip into the system. Computer security caught it, shunted him into a decoy system and let him get away with obsolete data."
"Clever."
"Who?"
"Both the hacker and security. This one is being watched instead of neutralised of course." He stressed the euphemism ever so slightly.
"Of course."
"Is there more to this?"
"Just a nervous feeling that it might be more than a two pronged attack," Domino told him.
"You think there might have been yet another prong?"
"Yes, though security found nothing."
"Well?"
"I doubt security bothered to check all the legal access made at the same time."
"Clever. Is that how you would do it, or should I say did it?"
"I would never entertain the thought of illegally entering Genom's computers."
"Of course. You could check it out yourself," Devon suggested.
"The records could have been erased by now. It's too late."
"So just be extra vigilant."
"Easy to say. Computer security is not even my department."
"Everything is your department Odotte-kun."
"You know too much."
"Perhaps."
"I'll have to leave soon," Domino said, looking at her pink wristwatch.
"You didn't leave much time for me."
"You came home late."
"True."
"Maybe we will have more time next week, Papa."
"Go." he told her, "You are beginning to try my patience." He smiled.
"I'll just clear away the dishes."
"You could just call the maid."
"I don't get too many chances to be domestic."
"It doesn't really suit you."
"Sometimes it does. I'm just too much the high powered executive right now," she explained as she headed out of the room, the tray balanced on one hand.
"Is there a real you or is everything just a role?" he called after her.
Domino did not answer.
March 4th, 10:32, Dundas, Ontario, Canada
Morning sunlight streamed through the bay windows that looked out over the large backyard of the safe house. There was a garden out there but it was held in winter's grip so it slept, awaiting spring. The trees and shrubs were skeletal in appearanceall their leaves had been shed for the glory of autumn.
Natsumi Kosuke did not really see the winter locked landscape, her mind was on other things. The night before last her husband had been killed.
Aphros Securitywho had taken over from Stelco Securityhad presented her with a report early that morning. It was a case of industrial espionage gone bad. They were not quite sure what had happened since all the bodyguards were dead and her two little girls were still in a state of shock and not up to providing any real answers. She had been assured that the unfortunate incident had not been a direct attack against her.
She wondered whether to believe it. "Black is not your colour Kosuke-hakase," a woman said from behind her. "Don't turn around Kosuke-hakase, just listen," the voice warned before she could turn.
"Did you really believe Stelco and Aphros when they said that they could protect you and your family?" the woman asked.
"I had hoped." Natsumi was breathing quickly, feeling light headed.
"Foolish. You know we do not let our assets go that easily. Be back in Tokyo within the week."
"How do I know things aren't as Aphros said? You might just be taking advantage of this."
"We might. You are an intelligent person. Consider all the ramifications of what happened last night and make your own decision. Miki would be the next, by the way."
At that Natsumi spun, the threat to her children angering her. There was no one in the room. She thought she might have heard a door closing but she could not be sure. When she turned to look back out the window she was almost certain she spotted a shape disappearing into the trees.
There was a chance Genom, and she knew it was Genom, was bluffing. It would not be beyond them. She could not take the chance though. The simple fact was that Genom could protect her from Aphros but it was beyond Aphros to protect her from Genom. It was time to go back, to go home in a sick sort of way. She crossed the room and sat down heavily on the couch.
She was tired.
D smiled as she leapt over the stone wall and landed on the dirt trail behind the house. The security around the place had been very lax, nothing that had even slowed her down. Obviously it had been some time since Stelco had bothered to make improvements to the property's security.
She was pleased with the job; it had been the type of win/win situation that Genom always tried to set up.
The false leads she had placed had led Stelco and the police right to Angeline. D had tipped Angeline off just before the police had arrived, ensuring she had just enough time to get away but not enough time to take anything. It had also allowed the police to make a positive identification.
They had found the gun and matched the ballistic patterns. They had found the disk with its damning data on it. With Angeline's recent record of sloppy work that often led to excessive damage, it all seemed obvious what had happened. Aphros, who owned Stelco, might suspect Genom being behind it, but they would never be able to prove it. Which was the point of the exercise. Aphros had to be punished, and now they had been.
A clear message had also been sent to Kosuke-hakase as well. D was certain she would return to Genom. She was acting much like the psychological workup on her had predicted.
While Natsumi had cared about her husband, his death was not the sort of trigger that would push the doctor to act irrationally, an important consideration. The threats against her daughters would bring her back, though it would be dangerous to actually harm them. That might cause irrational behaviour on Natsumi's part.
Stelco, and of course their new owners, Aphros, had also lost most of their light armour plant and would no longer be able to meet the order for Amazonia. While the new nation had wanted the Stelco Fox II's they would no doubt be willing to purchase combat boomers instead. They needed the weapon systems soon. They could afford them. The Amazon had an abundant resource base.
Stelco Steel and Arms could have allowed Aphros to branch out beyond their aircraft production, and would have complimented it well. Now it was a liability, for a time. It hurt Aphros Industries, but not so bad as to be out of proportion of their crime. Genom was not interested in completely destroying Aphros, not yet at least.
There was also the added bonus that Angeline would not likely live much longer. She knew quite a few embarrassing secrets about Genom. Her death, in no way connected to Genom, would solve a potential problem.
While all that was good the final prize was what made D particularly proud, what gave her an extreme sense of satisfaction.
Angeline had realigned herself with a heavy industry company called Magtech. Genom market analysers had predicted a possibility of co-operation between Kyuusei and Magtech within two years. Now that date would likely be pushed back quite some time. A potential threat to Genom removed before it could ever come to fruition.
It had been pure luck that things had turned out that way. Angeline had just been the perfect scapegoat to pin things on. D knew she would never get such a perfect set up again. Not in a thousand years. It was almost disappointing. She had reached her pinnacle and still had so much time in front of her.
She shrugged her shoulders and set off towards where she had left her car parked. She was going to have to rush if she wanted to get to Pearson International and catch the SST to Vancouver. She had some work there as well.
March 5th, 11:23, MegaTokyo
The van was black, with tinted windows. The license plates were standard pattern. The vehicle was registered as belonging to woman in one of Tokyo's suburbs. It was one of the ADP's Shade Fleet. Sometimes the ADP did not like to advertise their presence.
Inside the van Nene was staring at the .454 automag that Leon was holding out to her.
"Why do I need a weapon Leon-san?" she asked.
"ADP regs. You have to be armed."
"Didn't you say that this was all going to be perfectly safe?"
"It will, but if you are not armed, and Toda-san finds out, he'll explode."
"Like you care about Toda-jichou will do."
"Just take the pistol," Leon told her.
Nene looked at the weapon, then reached out and took it. It was heavy; she remembered that from when she had used the weapon back in December. She looked it over, pulled back the action to make sure there was nothing in the chamber, then placed the pistol in her lap.
She picked up the shoulder holster and put it on, tightening the straps. Leon handed her two magazines that she slid into the holders opposite to the holster. The third magazine he handed her she slid into the pistol. She made sure the weapon was one safe, then put it into the holster.
"Now the flak jacket," he said, holding up what looked like a black, leather jacket.
"Flak jacket?"
"Regs," he said, smiling.
Nene nodded and took it from him. It was heavier than she had expected, but not excessively so. After sliding into it, she looked up at Leon. "Anything else?"
"No. Are you clear on the plan Nene-chan?"
"Bring down the security system, we enter on this side of the building, Daily-san comes in from the other."
"Good." He looked back at one of his men who was sitting at the back of the van, looking at a small screen in his lap. "Clear?"
"Looks like it."
"Okay," he reached out and opened the sliding, side door. "Go to it," he told Nene.
Nene picked up her bag and jumped from the van. Behind her the door slid closed, banging loudly. Nene jumped slightly then chided herself for being so nervous. It was all really simple after all.
She walked out of the small parking lot, crossing the street, making her way to the old warehouse that was the target. 'Walk casually', Leon had told her, so she tried. Just out on your way somewhere else, you just happen to have to pass this warehouse. Relax.
Ahead of her was the back door. Set on the wall, a little above shoulder level for her, was a small keypad. No cameras outside, no windows looking down on the door, but for one. That window was being watched by an ADP shooter, just in case.
When Nene reached the door she moved quickly in close to the door. At this point Leon had told her that the biggest threat she faced was that someone would come out of the door. 'Move fast, then get clear', he had said.
Reaching into her bag, Nene grabbed the tool kit within. She pulled it out, flipping it open at the same time. She pulled out a screwdriver and jammed it under the keypad plate. She pushed it up, then twisted it, popping the plate free.
She slid the screwdriver back into its place, removing a pair of wire clippers. Her motions were fast, but not rushed. After taking a look at the mess of wires she used a knife to strip some of the plastic off the wire and then put in a bypass. With that done, she reached in with the clippers and snipped the wire in two.
Motions still controlled, she replaced the wire cutters, then put the tool kit into her mouth, holding it between her teeth. She pulled her laptop from her bag, the clip leads were already attached, ready to go. Nene clipped the leads to the wires she had cut, the opened her computer and called up the programs she wanted.
The security system was hooked up to a monitoring computer. A good, if somewhat dated system, Nene noted. Working quickly she told the computer everything was fine, locked it into a loop, unlocked all the doors, and then shut the security system down.
She pulled the computer free, turned, gave a thumbs up in the direction of the vanthey would be watching herthen grabbed the bag and moved away from the door.
The van pulled from the parking lot, tires screeching. A few seconds later it skidded to a halt in front of the doors. The back doors opened and Leon and four members of his TAC squad leapt out. One of the squad approached the door, Leon and the others covering him. The door was opened and the man went in, another member following closely behind.
On the other side of the building Daily and his people were doing the same.
Leon motioned to Nene as he went in. Nene sighed and followed after him, pulling the bag up on her shoulder. Just before she entered she drew the .454 from her holster, pulled back the slide, and then entered the building.
Her mother would kill her if she learned of this.
Nene sat in front of the computer, her fingers flying across the keyboard. She would occasionally stop, turning to look at the bandage wrapped around her left arm. A shallow graze-Teflon coated bulletwhich did not require anything other than a bandage. The paramedics had given her some aspirin for the pain. After a moment she would shake her head and go back to her work.
When Leon walked into the room a few minutes later she was almost finished.
"What have you got?" Leon asked, dropping into the chair in front of the desk.
"Sales records, inventory, information like that. I haven't broken all the encryption yet, but that is what it looks like. It will probably take a week or two with a powerful computer to break it all, though we still may find the keys around here."
Leon nodded. "It's not as if we need it, not with all the hard evidence we have," Leon waved a hand at the bullet riddled window behind him, indicating the storage area beyond. "There are enough weapons in there to equip a small army."
"It looks old," Nene said, remembering the files she had decrypted.
"It is. Scrounged stuff more than likely. Old M-16s, a pile of AKMs, Uzis, a bunch of MP-5s and some other stuff I can't name. We've also got a bunch of rebuilt boomers, mostly C-Class, but a few hardier types."
Nene nodded, saying nothing.
"Does you arm hurt?"
"Not really," Nene shook her head. "It stings a little, but that is fading. The paramedics told me that it would heal without a scar."
"Scared you, right?"
"Yes. I thought this was going to be easy," Nene said, a note of accusation in her tone."
"I was hoping it would be. I figured these people were dealing illegally in boomer parts. I had no idea they were gunrunners. Oh, the woman you shot..."
"Is she..." Nene interrupted him.
"She'll be fine, but she is going to be in the hospital for a week or two. Nice shooting, centre of mass."
"I was trying to hit her in the arm," Nene told him.
"This was better."
"If you say so."
Leon smiled. "Look at it this way. You came out of here with minor wound, a scratch really, and you acted intelligently under fire. Full points all around."
"So I should be proud of this?" Nene asked incredulously.
"Maybe not proud, but not guilty either."
"I think I'm going to have to throw up soon."
"Stress reaction, now that you have time to think about it."
Nene nodded and got to her feet. "Excuse me," she said, walking quickly from the room.
Leon watched her go, smiling slightly. He had been there, to a lesser extent, and he had seen others in the same circumstances. It was all part of combat. He got up from the chair, pulling his jacket straight. He still had work to do, but he'd have to take his people and Daily's out for a drink later. Some sake would probably help Nene.
Twist, slash, jump, duck, parry, Linna felt a vibration run through her arm as her sword met the other. Spin about, and away, drop back into a fighting stance, wait. Across from her, her opponent had moved into almost exactly the same stance. Wait three beats, then, the shrill note of the flute launched them both at each other.
Linna went high, Mako went low, the two twisted around each other's blades, all part of a meticulously choreographed fight. Mako wore a loose kimono; her face made up in bright colours. Linna wore a body glove of black silk, a demon mask on her face.
They came at each other again, the blade met once again, ringing out. The second time that the blades were to meet. It added a certain thrill to the dance, but also an element of danger. Kikuchi-sensei had kept such contact to a minimum.
Linna spun back, a tight, controlled spin that hard to maintain. She kept her katana tucked in close to her, making sure if would not flail about. Mako moved after her, her katana slashing the air where she had just been.
Then Linna stopped her retreat and went on the attack. It was time for Mako to spin away. The entire fight scene was one of the flashiest sequences in the entire performance. It was very difficult, and both Linna and Mako dominated the stage for the entire routine. Linna did not get much stage time before or after it, but she had her chance to shine.
They moved into the closing moments of the fight. Mako attacked, Linna parried, the blades rang out, and Linna fell back. To the audience Linna's stumble would look ungainly, but the truth was she had spent a lot of time getting that stumble perfect. The audience might not appreciate it, but Linna did, and that was part of Kikuchi-sensei's plan.
Beaten, Linna fled from the stage, leaving Mako victorious.
She walked into the wings, taking her katananot a real one of courseand sliding it into its sheath. She pulled her mask off, wiping the perspiration from her forehead with the back of her hand. A girla student from a nearby school who wanted to learn how to dancehanded Linna a towel. Linna thanked her, then used the towel to wipe her face off.
"Yamazaki-san," one of Kikuchi-sensei's assistants called out.
"Hai," Linna turned towards the woman.
"Kikuchi-sensei would like to remind you that you lose that fight. It will be hard to believe that if your parry is so perfect."
Linna nodded. "Understood."
The woman nodded, then moved off, listening to instructions Kikuchi-sensei sent over the radio receiver in the woman's ear.
Linna took a seat near the rear of the wings, putting the towel around her shoulders. It was hard to not make that parry perfect. Her vision was somewhat restricted by the mask she wore, and while she trusted her own abilities to keep Mako safe, she was not entirely confident in Mako's abilities to do the same for her.
She sighed and leaned back in the chair. It was hard, but all things considered, she would not trade it for the world.
Cultural Notes:
Hinamatsuri, Girls Festival, takes place on the third of March. During this time old dolls are displayed on these rather large stands and young girls are presented with special dolls that represent ancient figures from the Imperial court.
Tech Notes:
Browning Super High Power: One of the many large frame pistols that have become popular since 2026, supposedly as Boomer killers. The Browning SHP uses a special 10mm ammunition manufactured by only a few companies under special license from Browning Arms. It features a wide ejection port and as such suffers from fewer feeding jams than other pistols of its type.
Most experts agree that the weapon, while very powerful, is of little use in serious combat. Still it had become a very popular weapon since 2029 when Derrick Rig began to use the weapon for his tough cop character 'Yoshiko Magnum' in his ultra-violent action movies (written by Adam Warren).
Browning Super High Power
Type: Heavy Pistol
Conceal: 4 Ammo: 10(c)
Mode: SA
Damage: 12M
Weight: 2.5
Availability: 4/3 days
Cost: 80000 yen
St. Index: 2
Legal: 6P-E RC: -
if using the special ammunition which costs 5000 yen for ten rounds. Only available as standard rounds.
Note: The rounds made by Browning Arms for this weapon are quite powerful, so much so in fact that pistol is gas operated, with a roller-locked system. This adds a certain level of excess complexity to the weapon and is one of the reasons that it is not seen as a useful weapon for combatit requires too much maintenance.
Furthermore, the heavy round imposes a +3 recoil modifier for the second shot and an average strength roll to avoid a further +1 to the target number. All in all it is not a weapon most professionals would choose.
Stelco Arms Fox II light battle tank: The Stelco Arms company came to the fore of armour production with the release of the Iron Grizzly, Heavy Battle Tank in 2015. This model sold very well for several years until Genom Combat boomers hit the scene. After that the Iron Grizzly, like many other tanks, was well on its way to obsolescence.
Stelco Arms released the Fox, a light two-man tank that proved effective in many situations and superior to Boomers. This superiority lasted a little over six months.
The Fox II is built with a light frame. It has a unique system of propulsion, eight legs to a side. These legs give it unparalleled manoeuvrability compared to other armoured vehicles and give it a fighting chance against combat boomers.
The project was plagued with problems until Natsumi Kosuke joined the project team. She worked the bugs out the control programs, giving Stelco Arms a viable and much sought after product.
On each leg is a small wheel, which allows the Fox II to use wheeled movement while on roads. This is both a little faster and offers a smoother ride.
Fox II
Handling: 2(4/8)
Speed: 80 (100)
Acceleration: 5 (8)
Body: 6
Armour: RESTRICTED INFORMATION
Signature: 5
Auto Navigation: 3 Pilot: -
Sensor: 6
Cargo: 25
Load: 700
Availability: NA
Street Index: NA
Note: The number in brackets are for when the Fox II uses its wheeled movement.
The Fox II's weapons consist of a man, gauss cannon that...Restricted Information.
The secondary weapon is a mini-gun mounted on the rear of the tank's turret, linked up to the Fox II's sensor system. This weapon can be used to engage incoming missile and rocket fire as well as low flying aircraft. While an effective system, the high rate of fire quickly expends its ammunition. (use the Vanquisher mini-gun for stats).
"In this uncertain world, ours should be the path of discipline"
-Shiba Yoshimasa
