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 (6 of 8)
by Shawn Hagen(1999;2005)
Based on situations and characters created by Suzuki Toshimichi.
Priss showed up late. There was dried blood on her clothes. Sylia did not ask her why she was late.
"What have you found out?" Sylia asked, starting with Nene.
"Nothing really useful. Genom has not made any official statements, but I think they are making inquiries through their unofficial contacts in various organisations. It is all very subtle."
"Is there anyone in the ADP who might give Andrews-hakase help?"
"Probably, but there are some who would not. I have not seen any sign of it."
Sylia nodded and looked over at Priss.
"I talked to some people I knew, then went some places where people can disappear. I think Genom got there firstpeople were scared and not interested in speaking." Priss pulled her jacket away revealing a bloody rip in her shirt. "I don't think we will find him in that sort of place."
"Are you all right?" Sylia asked her.
"It's just a scratch," Priss told her.
Sylia nodded. "I suppose I should not be surprised. If Andrews-hakase planned to hide, I suspect he took much of what Genom was capable into account. It will make him very difficult to find."
"A friend of mine told me the best way to hide was to take over someone else's life," Nene said.
"Don't be stupid," Priss told her.
"I'm not being stupid," Nene snapped.
"She's not," Sylia said, ending the shouting match before it began. "The easiest way to find someone who has gone to ground is to ask people if they have seen anyone new in their area. If you can enter an area so no one notices it makes it very hard to be found."
"So what, he disguises himself as someone else?"
"He could," Sylia told her. "But he need not do so. It might be as simple into moving into an apartment after getting rid of the old tenant."
"But the original tenant," Nene said, not wanting to think too much about the how one might get rid of the tenant in question, "would have to be someone who did not leave their apartment very often."
"Yes. Such people are not too difficult to find in the city this size, but you would still have to be careful. There are few people who completely cut themselves off like that. I suppose we could start looking for them."
"How are you going to look for them?" Priss asked.
"There are records of sorts that can be helpful."
"He might not have chosen such a person."
Sylia nodded.
"I have an idea."
"Amazing," Nene said softly, picking up her teacup.
Priss ignored the jibe. "I'll need some money," she told Sylia.
"How much?"
"Half a million yen should be enough."
Sylia thought about for a moment, then nodded. "Fine. Anything else?"
"No, that should be enough."
"Might I ask what you plan to do?"
"I'm going to check out District 24, talk to some people. An old friend of mine once told me it was the place to disappear in the city, and the place is full of shut-ins."
"District 24?" Nene asked, almost choking on her tea. "That place is dangerous."
"It is a difficult place to get any information out of," Sylia said, not sounding as concerned as Nene.
"I know someone," Priss told her.
Sylia nodded and got to her feet. "I'll get the money."
Priss stood, as did Nene, following Sylia towards her office. Priss entered with her while Nene stood just outside looking in. Sylia opened a cabinet, revealing a safe. She knelt down and entered the combination code.
"Only six numbers?" Nene asked, having listened to the beeps.
"Each of the keys reads the patterns on my finger tips," Sylia told her as she pulled open the door. "You have to use the right fingers on the right keys."
Nene nodded, "That would make it difficult to crack."
"I thought so," Sylia told her. "Old or new bills?" she asked Priss.
"Old might be better."
Sylia removed a bundle of slightly worn bills. She pulled the paper band from around them and flipped through the stack of ten thousand yen bills. "Here," she held out half the bundle towards Priss.
"Great," Priss said, taking the money. She flipped through it while Sylia closed the safe door, and then the cabinet. "Can I get an envelope."
"Of course," Sylia said, walking to her desk, She went through the drawers until she found a large manila envelope, which she then held out to Priss.
"Perfect," Priss said as she took the envelope. She then slid the bills into the envelope before folding it closed around the money.
"Let me know how it goes," Sylia told her.
"I will," Priss said as she slid the money into her jacket pocket. "Later." She walked towards the office door.
"Don't forget to bring a receipt back," Nene said as Priss passed by her.
"Shut up little girl," Priss said as she lightly slapped Nene across the top of her head.
"Ouch," Nene said loudly. "That hurt!"
"Ah, I'm sorry," Priss said insincerely as she walked away.
"You're an idiot," Nene said, but not so loudly that Priss might hear her.
"Nene-san," Sylia said, standing right beside her.
"Hai?" Nene was a little surprised to find Sylia that close.
"Come with me," she said, walking from her office, turning down the hall towards the elevator.
Nene followed after Sylia, wondering what she wanted. Sylia pressed the elevator call button, the door slid open a moment later. Sylia stepped inside the car, Nene a step behind.
"Do you think Priss-san will be all right?" Nene asked as Sylia pressed the button for the second basement.
"I don't see why she shouldn't be," Sylia told her.
"It's just that District 24 is dangerous. The ADP does not like going in there, when they do it is with full combat vehicles."
"District 24 is dangerous, but Priss-san will not be in any danger." The Elevator doors opened. "It is an environment that she is used to." Sylia stepped from the car.
"I sometimes wonder if Priss is as tough as she thinks she is," Nene said.
"I suspect that Priss-san might wonder that herself," Sylia said quietly.
"What?" Nene asked, not sure what Sylia had said.
"Nothing," Sylia said, opening the door to the office she used down there. "There it is."
"What?" Nene asked, looking about. Then she saw it. Lying on the desk, looking as if it was asleep, was the boomer cat. "It's working?" Nene asked.
"Wake up," Sylia called.
The cat's eyelids opened, revealing the yellow green eyes. The cat got up, yawned, stretched out and then licked a paw before leaping down onto the floor and walking over to Sylia.
Sylia shook her head, smiling slightly. "I'm almost certain it takes a certain sense of pride out of such actions."
"Really?" Nene asked excitedly, looking down at the cat. "It's that smart?"
"No doubt," Sylia said. She looked down at the cat. "Listen." The cat looked up at her, giving her all of its attention. "This is Romanova Nene-san, your new master. Understand?"
The cat let out a single meow.
"Does that mean yes?" Nene asked.
"I suspect so."
The cat shifted its attention to Nene, then walked over to her, circling around her ankles and purring loudly.
"So cute," Nene said, kneeling down to pick the cat up-it was heavier than last time she had held it.
"What are you going to call it?" Sylia asked.
Nene gently stroked the fur between the cat's ears. "I don't know. Johnson-san called it Lucky."
"A good name I suppose."
"I'm not sure. I think I'll call it Neko," Nene said.
"That's not so much a name as a description."
"I like it, ne Neko-chan," Nene said.
The cat let out a meow.
Terrence sat back in his chair, staring out of the hotel room window. The sun had nearly set and the lights were coming on. Somewhere out there was Yoshiro Andrews. While he could not be sure he was almost certain that Genom was also looking for him. That told him that Yoshiro had not betrayed him.
He had gathered up what was left of his resources, and had set them trying to find Yoshiro. His employers needed Yoshiro, needed his knowledge. He had no choice but to find the man. It was going to prove difficult, he was sure, but he had set things up as best he could.
Terrence stood, moving smoothly with no signs of the injuries he had taken the night before. He turned and walked towards his bedroom door. He had to speak with his people, move onto the next stage of their plan.
When he opened the door her was presented with an impossible scene.
It was not so much at that all four of them were down, likely dead, but that it had happened so quietly. Though the walls of the suite were thick, he had not thought that four people could die without him hearing it.
Standing, her back to him, was the slight form of a teenaged girl. Her long blonde hair was flecked with blood. She was standing over the body of his second in command. It looked as if the man's head had been turned completely around.
"Someone wishes to speak with you," she said, still not turning to face him.
"Who are you?" Terrence asked, keeping his voice calm.
"That's not important Lecoix-san. I hope you will come without a problem."
Terrence flexed his right arm slightly. From his wrist slid a 20 centimetre long blade. It was normally stored between his ulna and radial bones. Such a quiet weapon. "I don't think I have a choice."
"I'm glad you see it that way," she said. Even as she was speaking Terrence launched himself forward, silently covering the distance between them. He lifted the blade up, getting ready to drive it down into her unprotected back.
Then she was gone. Just like that.
Before he could do anything he felt someone behind him, and a hand grasped his wrist. It all happened so fast. His arm being twisted behind his back, his body slammed down onto the desk, a wet, meaty ripping sound that he could not place.
Then a blade was driven down into the desk, just in front of his eyes. It looked so familiar, but he was not sure where he had seen it. Blood ran down the metal of the long knife, pooling on the desk. That was when he recognised it. It had been ripped from his arm. Suddenly he felt the pain.
Akiko held him there, staring down at him. "As you said, you don't have a choice."
Terrence gritted his teeth against the pain and wondered what sort of monster this girl was.
Priss had to slow down on the beat up road. District 24 was not a place that had seen much in the way of reconstruction after the quake. The residents had done some work, mostly getting power lines and cables back up.
The only reason that District 24 survived was because of the power generator; the locals called it KaminarimonThunders Gate. It had been built as an experimental, deep, geothermal generator, designed to survive an earthquake. An unparalleled success by all accounts, and completely useless with the advent of cheap fusion.
Still, the residents of the district were quite pleased with it.
Mamoru had known the area well, and he had made sure that the rest of his people had also known it. No better place to hide he had often said.
Priss slowed her bike down even more as she began to enter the main streets, crowded with people and vehicles.
Most of MegaTokyo thought that District 24 was home to the poor, the destitute, those with nothing else. It was partly true, but only partly. There were those in the district who were well off, some who were rich. They had drifted into 24 for the simple reason that there was no where else for them. Perhaps they were fugitives. Perhaps the rest of the world just did not make sense to them.
Priss stopped the bike at an intersection, waiting for an old truck to slowly rumble by. She watched the people around her, matching the predatory stares that were being directed at her. It was among the best ways to avoid problems.
The truck exited the intersection and Priss drove on, heading deeper and deeper into the district. There was a sense of decay in the air, of despair. Almost every building showed signs of quake damage. The repairs that had been made had mostly been made with trash, recycled items. And then there were the people, many of them sporting obvious cyberneticsa fashion that had fallen out of favour in other places.
She saw a lot of young people, often standing by a corner, selling themselves more than likely. Priss doubted that many of them were as young as they looked. More likely they were under the effects of Growth Restraint pills. The eternal teenagers or children that had drifted down into District 24; it was not as if they could hope to get a regular job.
She drove past a pillar of TVs, set up like an altar around which monks sat, their straw hats pulled down low over their eyes. Priss slowed to avoid brushing against a tall man with dead eyes. She sped up, just before a group of well-dressed women, and their bodyguards, crossed the streets. Priss noticed that all the women had solid black eyes and they all looked very similar to one another.
She was getting close to her destination, and the roads were getting crowded. She pulled off the road, into an open space where cars and several other bikes were parked.
Priss shut off her bike and locked it up, then walked over to a small bundle of rags by the entrance. She pulled several creased bills from within her jacket and dropped them onto the ground.
From within the rags a hand shot out, thin, and pale, snatching the falling bills from the air, and one from the ground. Nothing was said, Priss just turned and walked down the street, pushing through the crowds. She was not worried about her bike. She had paid for its protection, and that meant a lot down in District 24.
Now that she was among the throng of humanity in the district she got a much better look at them. There were more cybernetics to see, as well as tattoos and ritual scarring. Clothing of all types, from different eras of history, and not just Japan's, could be seen down there.
Priss stepped aside to let a figure in full samurai armour, including a demonic menpo(mask), by. It was just good sense to give someone wearing the daisho room to pass. The people of the area respected intelligence, and picking stupid fights was often a good way to get killed. Ironically, it was also a way to avoid getting killed, in some cases.
Then there was the smell. It was quite strong. Unwashed humanity mixed with the spices of cooking food, and a thousand chemical smells, from perfumes to ozone. It was not really a bad smell, but a distinct one. What there was none of was the scent of flowers and green things. Nothing grew in District 24.
There were a lot of beggars in the area, and Priss dropped five hundred yen coins into their begging bowls. It was good to show that you had money, it meant you could protect it, but never good to show too much. Mamoru had told her that. She could almost picture him walking beside her, a disdainful look on his face, as if nothing could touch him. She could hear him, across time, telling her a little of this and a little of that.
Priss smiled slightly as she pushed through a group of people watching a street performer. Funny place to be to start remembering the good times. It made sense though. Nothing bad had ever happened to them in District 24. It was a surprisingly safe place, as long as you knew the rules, and were smart.
The smiled faded as she passed a dead body lying in an alley. A young man propped up against a pile of trash, his eyes milky with death, the needle of the syringe that had killed him still in the vein. People just passed by, leaving the dead to themselves. It was doubtful that anyone would claim the body. The organs of a drug addict would be of poor quality.
A surprisingly safe place, as long as you did not give into despair.
Priss continued along, not really looking at anything. She naturally fell into a relaxed stance, a disdainful look on her face, matching Mamoru without knowing it.
It was not long after that she came to her destination.
Club 666.
Its sign was the headless body of a pig, neon, or something like it, lettering worked into its side. It stood on a lighted panel, and tubes as well as cords ran into its neck. There was chain around its rear leg, as if it might run off. Priss had heard that it was still alive, as was the head, but she doubted that. The pig had probably long since died and been replaced or cybernetic parts placed in it to keep it standing.
She walked passed the disturbing sign and up to the front doors. The bouncer looked her over with a critical eye. She did the same. Club 666 had one basic policy. No slummers or posers allowed. It was Club for the real people of the area, and only them.
"Ten thousand yen cover," he said after a moment, noting the quality of her clothing.
Priss pulled a bill from the sleeve of her jacket. "Here's five thousand," she said, pressing the bill into his open hand. "Be happy with it." She walked by him, not looking back. He did not stop her from entering the club. He might have had she paid the entire ten thousand.
The interior of the club was dark, but bright at the same time. The neon signs and displays that were so prevalent in the area were not missing from the club, but they flashed, and were placed in such a way to throw a lot of shadows.
The dance floor was packed with people, much like those she had seen outside. They danced with a wild abandon of those who did not care. It was an intoxicating scene and Priss was hard pressed not to join them. There was power in not caring.
The music was loud, not much to it, but the drummer could keep a beat. It was music that could be danced to. The band was a rough looking group of teenagers, well, they looked like teenagers. In District 24 it was not as if you could be sure of anything. She stopped where she was, looking up at the stage, watching as the musicians shouted their lyrics out to an uncaring audience. Words did not matter to the dancers, only the beat.
She quietly wished the band luck, then pushed on.
It took her a little while, but she finally spotted the woman she was looking for, sitting in one of the mostly dark corners. Priss walked towards her, seeing things in the bright flashes of light that would illuminate that area every now and then.
She had not changed much since the last time Priss had seen her. That had been in the very club, to tell her that Mamoru had died. She had not seemed to care and Priss had shouted at her for it. Priss was not worried that she might hold that against her now. She was not that kind of person.
She was wearing a dark cocktail dress, maybe red, and black stockings. Her short black hair was spiky, and she wore a pair of sunglasses. As Priss got closer she saw how pale the woman's skin was, as if she had not seen the sun in some time. She probably had not.
She did not look as if she had noticed Priss, but when Priss got close she lifted a hand, her cybernetic one, and waved at Priss, then indicated the chair across from her.
"If it isn't Priss," she said. "Long time." It was quieter there so she did not have to shout to be heard.
"Yeah, a long time," Priss replied, taking a seat across from her. "How's it been Ritsuko?"
"Same as always Priss. It never changes down here. That's why I like it. How about you?"
"I'm doing all right," Priss told her. "My music career might actually be going somewhere."
"So you made a career out of it."
"You always said I would."
"I said a lot of things," Ritsuko said, smiling. "I was right about half the time, if that."
"Ever think about Mamoru?" she asked.
"Now and then."
"And you don't miss him?"
"No. It's pointless."
"Pointless?"
"He never really loved me, or you, or Kano, or any of us, not in the way we wanted him to," Ritsuko told her.
"Maybe."
"So do you miss him dear Priss?"
"Maybe, I'm not sure any longer."
"Moved on, or just realised that you never did miss him. You were just angry that someone else had died on you?"
"I missed him," Priss told her, "And I was angry."
"Still angry?"
"Maybe."
Ritsuko smiled. "So what's happening in the real world?"
"I thought you'd keep up."
"Can't. Not any longer. This place has become the sum total of my existence. If I actually tried to find out what was going on outside, well, that might be bad."
"And yet you ask me."
"I never trusted any of your reports. They were always too full of emotion to be useful."
It was Priss' turn to smile. "Things are like they have always been. Genom is nearly finished the rebuilding of the city. Another year and it will be like the quake never took place. Except for here."
"Do you think this place will never change?"
"I think time stands still here, or at least does not flow in the same way."
"That could be true, but we are not immune to the rest of the world. There is an ugly rumour circulating that says someone in the real world is thinking of shutting down Kaminarimon."
"Do you think it is true?"
"I don't know. It sounds like something someone in the real world would try, doesn't it?" Ritsuko said.
"Maybe, if they wanted this place. Why would they?"
"That's what I am asking myself."
"I don't think you have to worry," Priss told her.
"Why's that?"
"They need this place. It saves them from having to deal with people who have problems, just let them sink down here. And it gives them a pressure valve. I saw six or seven people, in those full cloaks, with their bodyguards, looking for those services that they can only get here. That is why they won't do anything. They need you."
"And I thought this place bred cynics."
Priss laughed at that.
"So, what brings you down to West Hell today?"
"I need a favour, can we..."
"Oi, Ritsuko-chan, who's your pretty friend," someone said, interrupting Priss.
Priss looked into the lenses of Ritsuko's glasses and saw the two men behind them. Hard to say in such a reflection, but they looked big. Ritsuko seemed unconcerned.
"Go away Genji," she said flatly.
"That 's not very nice," the one called Genji said, coming around the table. He was big, head shaved, muscles all over. He walked over to Ritsuko and reached down, cupping her chin in his big hand. "Why don't you like me."
"The list is endless," Ritsuko said simply.
"Come on Ritsuko. Can't you be nice to me and my brother? We want to be nice to you."
"Yeah Ritsuko," a voice said from behind Priss. "We just want to be friends with you and your friend." Priss felt a hand lay across her shoulder.
"You are making a mistake Genji," Ritsuko said, reaching for her drink. She moved her chin away from his hand.
"Take your hand off me," Priss said, not moving at all.
"My brother is just being friendly, isn't that right Maike?"
"Yeah, I just want to be friends," he said, gripping Priss' shoulder a little tighter.
"Take your hand off me," Priss said once more. "I won't ask again."
"I think your friend is anti-social," Genji said.
"Yeah, anti-social," Maike said, parroting his brother.
"This is going to get messy," Ritsuko said softly.
"What?" Genji asked.
Priss reached up, across her body, and grasped Maike's index and middle fingers and wrenched them back. Both came out of the socket with a wet pop. Maike was only beginning to register the pain and Genji only beginning to realise that something was wrong when Priss stood, keeping her hold on Maike's hand, forcing his arm up. Even as she stood she lashed out with her elbow, adding the strength of her legs with the action, slamming it into his underarm.
The force of the blow popped his arm neatly from the socket. Priss felt the stitches in her leather jacket rip.
Priss continued the action, twisting at her hip, letting her arm continue out, folding her fingers into a fist. Just before her hand slammed into Maike's face she tensed up her muscles, hitting him hard.
The big man went over, falling to the ground with an audible thump.
Genji screamed, reaching into his coat, pulling free a knife, leaping towards Priss.
Priss stepped to the sidea technique that Linna had taught herand reached out, grasping the inside of Genji's arm. She pulled, using his momentum to yank him off balance, sending him stumbling forward.
She used her own momentum to come about, slamming her elbow into the back of his head as he went by. She let herself continue to spin and lashed out with a sidekick, putting the blade of her foot into the small of his back. With her riding books on the kick was devastating.
Genji was lifted into the air, came down, bounced, and then slid, on his face, into several chairs.
"They never learn," Ritsuko commented quietly. "Of course they are rather thick-skulled."
Almost as if to prove this assessment, Maike stood up. His right arm hung limply at his side, but the pain of the dislocation did not seem to be affecting him.
He threw a punch at Priss that might have broken her neck had it connected. He had telegraphed it and Priss had plenty of time to step aside.
She fired off several jabs into his exposed left side. It was an awful lot like hitting a wall, but at least this wall seemed to feel it. She noticed in a far off way that the music had stopped, and the lights had come up.
Maike roared and snapped his elbow back towards her. Priss ducked, and watched as the attack spun him around so he ended up with his back to her. Well, if he was going to make it easy, Priss thought as she snapped a punch into his dislocated shoulder.
He screamed. Priss launched a kick up between his legs. Her foot connected with a cup, making a dull thud. Still, it was a solid hit and it lifted him a little off the ground, and no doubt hurt. Just not enough to put him down.
Priss moved back, wanting a little space between her and the big man. That brought her close to where Genji had slid. He was pushing himself up to his hands and knees. Priss kicked him in the ribs and he fell to the floor again. As she was having enough trouble with his brother, she did not need him up causing trouble.
Maike had turned and was running at her, but not full out. He was using a little more care this time. Still, Priss was able to avoid him easily enough. She fell back, avoiding his attacks using the minimum amount of energy necessary. She let him tire himself out. It was not as if he had the limitless energy of a boomer.
Finally he made a mistake, over extending himself in a desperate attempt to make contact. Priss took hold of his arm and gave it a pull. He could not stop himself from falling forward. Priss stepped around him, yanking his arm behind his back, putting his left hand against the opposite shoulder blade.
She shifted him about, and ran him towards the big fish tank with its man-faced fish. Even as she was doing it Priss realised that she was going too far. When the glass broke he would probably die, throat cut by the razor sharp shards. She could not help herself though. It was the effect of the place she was in. It brought back all the old feelings.
Priss was rather surprised when the glass held. Maike's face slammed into it, the blood from his nose exploding all over the glass. Priss drew him back, then slammed him against the glass again; suddenly curious as to if the glass or his head would break first.
She might have continued her experiment to its conclusion but on the third slam she spotted Genji's reflection in the aquarium glass.
Fairly certain that Maike was no longer in any shape to continue the fight she made as if to slam his head against the glass once more, but instead whipped him about, putting him between herself and the knife strike Genji had been aiming at her back.
Genji hastily aborted the attack, the action throwing him off balance. He was unprepared for Priss, who dropped Maike's heavy body and came in at him. She quickly disarmed him, then sent a reverse punch directly into his solar plexus. He dropped like a stone.
Priss was hardly finished. She began to kick him as he lay on the ground. Somehow he managed to curl up into a ball, his hands over his head in a desperate attempt to protect it.
Priss kicked him until she heard the snap of ribs. She suddenly stepped back, looking between Maike and Genji, both lying on the ground, groaning pitifully. Neither would be getting up soon.
Priss looked around, suddenly aware she had drawn a crowd. People were standing around, looking at her, and the two men, lying on the floor at her feet. There was a mixture of emotions on their faces; some looked as if they would like to be Priss' next opponent. Priss could see the bouncers moving through the crowd towards her.
She shifted into a fighting stance, ready to do what was needed when the sound began to fill the nearly silent club. It was wet, meaty sound, like someone slapping two raw steaks together.
Everyone looked towards the sound, even the bouncers.
Sitting in her shadowy niche the Queen was clapping, her fat hands slapping together. She was a large, obese woman, naked but for the necklaces she wore, and the helmet that covered the upper part of her head. Various tubes, perhaps cables, ran into her bloated, pale skin, providing nutrients and removing wastes.
She continued clapping for several seconds, then stopped. She lifted one of her hands, the fingers covered with rings, and pointed in Priss direction. "She entertains us."
The tense feeling in the club faded away. The Queen had spoken; no one would say anything against her. A moment later the lights faded and the band started playing again, as if nothing had happened.
The bouncers came up to where Priss was but did not touch her. They grabbed Maike and Genji and then dragged them off towards the exit.
After a moment Priss relaxed and shifted out of her fighting stance. She looked about, then down at the floor. She took her boot and ran it through a puddle of blood, smearing it across the concrete. She could hardly see it in the darkness. Priss shook her head, then walked back to where Ritsuko still sat.
"Have fun?" Ritsuko asked, smiling.
"That was not fun."
"Liar."
"What?"
"You are a liar. You enjoyed that. It was liberating."
"No." Priss shook her head.
"Yes you did. In the real world that little scuffle would have had you arrested for assault, perhaps even attempted murder. Here..." she stopped and looked off to the side. Priss looked as well. A waitress was wheeling a cart covered in bottles towards them. "Here it gets you free drinks."
"That's not how it is."
"Then how is it?"
Priss said nothing as the waitress parked the cart beside them. "With the Queen's compliments," she said, then turned and walked away.
"Pretty sweet isn't it," Ritsuko said, taking a bottle of beer from a cooler of ice.
"It is not like that," Priss repeated.
"Of course it is," Ritsuko said, flicking the cap off her beer with her cybernetic arm. "I suspect you've been looking for a fight since you got here. This place sings in your ears doesn't it? Reminds you of the days you could do what you wanted. Those were good days weren't they?"
"It is not like that!" Priss said, anger in her tone.
"Oh?" Ritsuko asked, her tone suddenly innocent. "Did I seem concerned over Genji and his brother?"
"No," Priss said, a little angry, a little confused. "That was part of the reason I had to do something."
"I didn't do anything because they are annoying, but harmless. You must have known that. You pushed it into a fight because you wanted it."
Priss opened her mouth to object, but she said nothing.
Ritsuko took a long pull from the bottle, then placed it on the table. "Your hands are bleeding."
Priss looked down at her hands. There were a number of small cuts and abrasions on her knuckles, and a deep cut across her index finger on her left hand. "Itai(ow)," she said, though it did not really hurt.
Reaching out to the cart Priss looked through the bottles until she found a bottle of water. She twisted the cap off and poured the water over her hands, letting the blood tinted water wash down onto the concrete.
When she looked up Ritsuko was holding out a handkerchiefgrey from too many washingstowards her. She held it in her cybernetic hand. Priss reached out and took it, then wrapped it around her left hand.
"So Priss, just why did you come here?"
Priss tied off the handkerchief then looked up at Ritsuko. "I need some help."
"What kind of help?"
"Information."
Ritsuko put her half-empty bottle of beer on the table. She looked over the bottles in the cart then grabbed the shouchuu(Japanese whisky). "Come on, let's go some place where we can talk." Ritsuko got to her feet, then grabbed her coat from the seat beside her. She slung the coat over her shoulder with one hand and kept hold of the bottle with the other.
Priss got up and followed her towards the rear of he club. They exited through a back door and stepped out into a dark alley. Ritsuko did not seemed concerned about the locale so Priss took a cue from her and maintained a relaxed pace as she followed the other woman into the darkness.
About a hundred meters down the twisting alley Ritsuko stopped and did something to part of the wall. Priss could not tell what she had done but there was a creak as a door opened into somewhere darker than the alley. "Come on," Ritsuko said, moving into the darkness. After a moment Priss followed. "Move a little further in, don't worry, it's pretty open," Ritsuko said from off to her side.
Priss did as she was told, and listened to the sound of the door closing behind her. For a moment she could see nothing, then there was soft, red glow from behind her. She turned and saw Ritsuko standing behind her, holding what looked like a wand in her hand; the red glow came from it.
"This is a secure room, more or less. We can talk here without worrying about being overheard. Let me just make sure that it is still secure." She moved about the room, waving the wand about. It was not a large room so it did not take her long to scan the entire thing. "Give me your cel phone."
Priss took her cel phone from her pocket and handed it to Ritsuko. Ritsuko took her NAVI from her jacket and then placed both units into a box, which she then closed. "I don't think either units have the power to get through the walls, but it never hurts to be sure."
"This seems extreme," Priss said.
"There are a lot of secrets down here," Ritsuko said, turning on a small light. It was the same soft red as the one on the wand, which she turned off. "Best to be safe. Give me a second." She took some glasses from a cabinet and handed one to Priss. She filled Priss' glass with shouchuu then her own. "Kampai(cheers)," she raised her glass.
Priss lifted her glass to Ritsuko's, they chimed together, sounding loud in the quiet room.
"So, tell me what you want." Ritsuko took a drink from her glass.
"I need to find someone."
"And you think this person is down here?"
"I suspect."
"Who?"
"This Doctor on the run from Genom."
"Got a name?"
"Do you need one?"
"It depends on what you want. What do you want?"
"I was thinking of something Mamoru said, and something a friend said. Remember how he said that he'd just move into an apartment owned by some shut-in if he ever needed to hide?"
"Yes. It was not much of a plan."
"Mamoru was not perfect. I was thinking that his plan had a solid base."
"The hard thing would be finding the right shut-in."
"What if you set up your own shut-in?"
Ritsuko nodded. "That could work, maybe. You bank roll someone who needs it, then keep an eye on them."
"Right, but no matter how cut off from human contact a person is, they do have to interact with people to one extent or another. Something should show up."
"So you want me to find anyone who might have been this Doctor's place holder?"
"Yes."
"I can do that. What exactly do you want me to do?"
"Find the places where we can look. Don't make any sort of contact yourself."
"All right, sounds straight-forward. It may be costly."
Priss reached into her jacket and handed the envelope over to Ritsuko. "I've put a number where you can reach me in here, if you find something or need more money."
"Sounds good," Ritsuko said, stuffing the envelope into her own pocket. "I take it you want me to keep things quiet?"
"Very quiet."
"I like quiet as well. It usually means things are safer."
"This could get very hot."
"I know. There are rumours down here. I know how to be careful."
"Needed to be said."
"Thanks. Let's go."
"Where?"
"Back to the club, for at least a few hours. If you just leave now it will stand out." She put her empty glass down and then opened the box she had put her NAVI and Priss' cel phone into. "Here," she said, handing Priss her phone back.
"Thanks."
Ritsuko nodded, then reached over and turned the light out, plunging the room into darkness. "Let your eyes adjust to the dark for a couple of seconds," Ritsuko said. Priss could hear her footsteps as she walked across the floor. After a few seconds she opened the door. It seemed well lit to Priss after the darkness of the room.
She stepped out into the alley, Ritsuko following, closing the door behind her.
Terrence was secured to a chair. It was the sort of chair that one might find in dentist's office. His right arm had been treated by the boomer in the room with him. The bleeding had been expertly stopped the wound sutured and packed, and a dressing put around it.
The boomer was one of those paramedic units that Genom had recently put out. It looked surprisingly human, with a female form. She finished putting the instruments into a sink for cleaning and then turned to face him. "I have some questions for you Mr. Lecoix," she said in a warm voice.
"I won't say anything," he told her. While he knew he should not say anything, the fact that a boomer was interrogating him angered him.
She looked at him for a moment, then turned and picked up a small bottle from a tray table beside the chair. She held it up in the air and began turning it back and forth. The black liquid within moved like syrup.
Next she picked up a syringe, used her teeth to remove the cap from the needle, then held the bottle up and slid the needle through the rubber seal. She depressed the plunger, filling the bottle with air before she pulled the plunger back, filling the barrel of the syringe with the black liquid. She then removed the needle from the bottle, put the bottle aside, and put the cap back on the needle.
"It's not a question as to whether you will say anything," she told him, setting the syringe aside. She picked up a rubber hose and tied it around his upper arm. "It's how much you will suffer before saying it. I don't want you to suffer," she told Terrence sincerely.
Terrence looked up at her, wondering just what sort of creatures Genom was using.
Domino was watching the interrogation session through a two-way mirror, watching as the paramedic boomer began her work. She did not think it would take too long.
"Why are you using a paramedic unit Odotte-san?" Akiko asked from beside her.
"Various reasons," Domino told her. "The fact is she does not want him to suffer, and that comes through, so even as she is hurting him, it is like she is his friend. It makes it much more difficult for him to hold out. She also really does not like doing this so when I erase this from her memory, she'll happily let it go."
"It's a little cruel," Akiko said.
"More than a little," Domino said. "Why are you here?"
"Pardon Odotte-san?" Akiko looked over at Domino.
"There is no need for you to watch this."
"I brought him here," she said simply. "Usually by this time I'd be put back into cryo-storage. I wanted to see the end effect."
Domino nodded and turned back towards the scene in the room. Terrence had begun to thrash about in his chair. The drug was starting to have its effect. The paramedic unit was wiping away the beads of perspiration that appeared on his forehead.
Questions were asked and were eventually answered; though the man suffered greatly for each one. The paramedic unit was pleading with him, begging him to answer them so she could stop hurting him.
Domino eventually ordered Akiko away, sending her up to the apartment she maintained in the Tower. She did not mind that Akiko showed remorse and wanted to see the effects of her work, it spoke well of her in many ways. Still, it did Domino no good if she tore herself up too much over it.
Finally Terrence had answered all the questions they had for him. He lay in the chair, gasping, looking wasted and empty. Domino entered the room and walked over to his side. His eyes were empty, seeing nothing. Domino looked up at the boomer.
"The brain damage is irreversible," she said.
"Put him out of his misery," Domino told her.
The boomer nodded and quickly produced a syringe full of a fast acting poison, heavily laced with opiates. A moment of exquisite pleasure before death. Domino watched as she administered the injection, watched as Terrence's body relaxed completely, his eyes rolled back as a smile formed on his face. Then he died.
Domino turned to look at the boomer. "Put yourself into rest mode and erase all records from four hours in the past until now. Internal records will show you spent all that time in rest mode."
The boomer walked over to a chair on the far side of the room and sat down. She closed her eyes, sagging forward a little.
Domino turned her attention back to the dead body lying in the chair. She had to get rid of that.
Akiko was sitting on the couch when Domino entered the apartment. She looked up at her.
"It's over," Domino told her. "He gave us everything he could."
Akiko nodded.
"I'm going to move you into an apartment not far from here. You'll live with another of my operatives, though she will tell you that she is not my operative. It is a fiction I let her have as it makes her feel better."
"I'm not sure I understand," Akiko said.
"Don't worry, she will probably explain it all to you. You two will be good for each other I think. She could use someone to look like a guardian and you need someone who has lived a life."
"Isn't there something I should be doing?"
Domino shook her head. "Not now. I promised you a life, and you'll get it," Domino told her, binding the sexaroid closer to her with her words.
"Thank you," Akiko said.
Domino nodded as she reached into her jacket pocket and pulled forth her NAVI.
She was about to enter Rebecca's number when Akiko spoke. "You're a 33-S, aren't you." It was not a question.
Domino stood there for a moment, hand poised over the keypad of her NAVI. She looked over at Akiko and said nothing for a time. "How did you know?" she finally asked.
"The way you move, the way you react, the sense of complete control you have over yourself."
"I never thought it would be that obvious," Domino said, a little surprised.
"Few others would notice it," Akiko told her. "It just stood out for me, I guess I'm used to looking for things like that," she said it almost apologetically. "You aren't in any danger are you?"
Domino smiled at that. Already Akiko was thinking of her safety. D had been right. Sexaroids had a hard time not conforming to what the strong personalities around them wanted. For Sheffield-hakase she had been a daughter. For Domino she was going to be a protector, and a top class operative. "You need not worry. It is not something I'd like to have made public, but it is not a threat."
"How?" Akiko asked, the one word saying everything.
"Maybe I'll tell you one day," Domino told her, then she turned her attention back to the NAVI and entered Rebecca's number. "Now it is time for you to meet your new roommate."
"Thank you for taking me to dinner," Linna said. The third night had gone very well and she was feeling quite happy.
"Not at all," Devon said to her.
Linna smiled at the older man and watched as he drank his coffee. "Why me?"
"Pardon," he asked as he put the cup aside.
"Why take me out? Why not anyone else?"
Devon said nothing for a moment. "You reminded me of Andrea when she was younger."
"Kikuchi-sensei?"
"Yes. You and her share a certain drive. I enjoy dance, but I love dancers."
The statement surprised Linna a little, her surprise must have shown because Devon laughed. "Not necessarily physical love, but sometimes," he told her. "I'm often drawn to creative people, they have a spark in them that I find very attractive. Perhaps because I always lacked it."
"Isn't business a creative art?" Linna asked him.
"Not the way I did it. I used old lessons and applied them. They worked well. If they had not, I don't think I could have altered them to make them work."
"I think everyone can have that spark you talk about," Linna told him.
"Artists often say that. Sometimes I think they miss the fact they have a rare gift."
"Or maybe people just point to a gift as a reason not to try."
Devon smiled. "You could be right. I've heard that a few times before."
"So maybe it is true."
"Maybe." He picked up his coffee cup again and took a drink.
Linna looked about the restaurant and noticed, as she had before, that she and Devon seemed to be attracting a lot of attention from certain people.
"Why do I feel like I'm on stage again?" Linna asked.
"Ignore them," Devon told her. "They're just curious."
"About what?"
"About whether you are to be my next mistress," he said simply.
"What?"
"I've never been one to deny myself the company of attractive women. Whether just for a quiet dinner, or for something romantic. It has given me something of a reputation among certain people in the city. They wonder if I'm going to marry one."
"Is that why you invited me to dinner?" Linna's tone was coloured with a little anger, but only a little. She was flattered as well.
"I invited you to dinner because you are a beautiful young woman and I wished to spend some time with you. If it progresses further I will not be disappointed. That is it."
"You certainly seem sure of yourself," Linna said, all traces of anger gone from her voice. What an interesting man he was.
"I never said it would progress further," he told her good-naturedly.
"I guess you didn't," Linna smiled. "So, are you looking for a new mistress?"
"Not really. I have two all ready. I would not refuse a third if she were to enter my life."
The statement was so off the cuff, not a hint of embarrassment or pride in his voice. It was just a fact. "Some people might call you a dirty old man," Linna said, laughing softly.
"They have," he told her. "They've also said I rob the cradle at any given opportunity."
"You seem very open about it."
"Secrets are a dangerous things for a man like me to have."
"It's refreshing really," Linna told him.
"I'm glad you don't disapprove of this dirty old man's behaviour."
"I don't really think you are a dirty old man."
"Thank you."
Linna looked around again. "I wonder if they think I'm just after you for your money?" she asked quietly.
"Does it matter if they do? We both know that you aren't."
"My friends might say different. I've acquired something of a reputation for being a gold digger."
"Oh? And are you?"
"Sometimes it seems that way."
"Tell me about it," he said.
Linna looked at him. "Is this just a way to get me into your bed?"
"We'll see eventually I guess."
Linna smiled again. "I survived the quake, so did my parents," Linna told him. "I was one of the lucky ones."
Devon picked up the coffee decanter from the table and filled Linna's cup.
"Thank you," Linna said, picking up the cup then taking a drink. "It was hard in some ways, but not too bad. We still had our house, and each other. We picked up our lives and were willing to go on. Things were looking pretty good until that night."
Devon said nothing, just waited for her to go on.
"It was one of the first rogue boomer incidents, and the police teams they had thrown together to deal with the problem were not really up to it. Mistakes were made, no one wanted it to happen, it just did." Linna thought back to that night, of the tracer rounds ripping through the air around her, of the crashing sound of the construction boomer as it tore a path through the house, of the smell of blood. "I lost my parents that night."
"I'm sorry," Devon said.
Linna nodded. "It hurt, for a time, but I was old enough to move on, after some mourning. Then dance was just away to escape the pain, but as the pain faded, dance meant more and more to me. It was then that I decided to make it my life.
"That sort of thing is expensive though. I had to work part time jobs while attending school, and a lot of the money had to help my family. I had moved in with one of my aunts who had lost her husband, and another of my aunts was living there as well. It was quite an extended family." Linna smiled. "A distant cousin from Brazil even came to help the family. He taught me capoeira."
"A difficult time," Devon said.
"For everyone. I expect even the rich."
"You are too kind."
Linna shrugged her shoulders. "What money I could keep went to paying dance and martial arts teachers. I often had to arrange for private lessons just to fit them into my schedule," Linna said, a touch of pride in her voice.
"You're a strong, young woman."
Linna blushed slightly. "I just did what I needed to do."
"You did more than that."
Linna did not answer that, she just continued with her story. "As busy as I was with all of that, I still had time for a social life. Well, made time. I dated, and soon realised something."
"What?"
"There were a lot of cute, lazy guys out there that wanted me to buy them things."
"Pardon?"
"Well, not really that bad, but they often needed to borrow money. I mean everyone needed to borrow money once in a while, but it was not as if I could afford to give them anything. They never seemed to understand that, it was always, 'But Linna-chan, you work three part time jobs. Can't you just spare a thousand-yen?'
"I'd say no, there would be hurt feelings, and in the end I just got tired of it. That was when I started looking for people who had money before I started dating them."
"So you did not want their money, you just wanted them to not ask for your money."
"Yes. Not many people could understand that though. And then there were the artists."
"The artists?"
"I got it into my head that I should be dating other artists, that we should somehow be sharing our creative impulses. I was young and stupid. I still am I guess."
"Money problems again?"
"Not really. The thing about artists is that they often need a lot of support. I had a hard time giving that seeing as I was putting a lot of my attention into my dance. It would make the relationship very difficult until I would finally end it.
"When people asked my why I had dumped so and so, well, I couldn't really say, 'Because they wanted my support and I did not want to give it to them.' That would have made me sound like a selfish person. So instead I told them it was because they would never make any money. Which still made me sound selfish, but not quite so bad."
"And from all this you get a reputation as someone only interested in money."
"Yes."
"Unfortunate."
"I know."
"Well. Just so we can get his out in the open, I will never need to borrow money from you, nor will I ask for support of any kind."
Linna smiled. "Well, things are finally looking up."
Domino sat in her office, looking over various reports, making sure everything was as it should be. Her official work continued well enough, she was quite pleased with the way that things were going. Unofficially things were not looking as good.
Terrence Lecoix had known a lot, but he was ultimately an errand boy. He had been hired by his employers, of whom he had said little, almost a year before. He had first been a hired employee, but after his near death during the Knight incident his loyalty to employers had increased greatly. Their saving his life had done that.
He had told her about his first meeting with Yoshiro, soon after Largo had been destroyed. As far as Terrence had been able to tell Yoshiro had given his employers some information and had rebuilt a number of boomers.
She turned her attention to the lab report she had received on the boomer AI chips. All skilfully altered, cutting their connection to the OMS with only a five to ten percent loss in function. Very good, all things considered. She was positive it was Yoshiro's work.
It would be something to talk about with Yoshiro, once she had brought him back. That was for later, she thought.
Terrence had given them a large number of leads, which were being and would be checked out, but Domino would not be surprised if they found nothing. From the sounds of things the man's employers were very good at covering their tracks.
The news from Canada was mixed. It was unlikely that anyone would be using Aphros Industries as a front any longer. The family that controlled the company was doing an adequate job cleaning house. A show of good faith in order to keep Hou Bang and Genom from hurting them any further.
Surveillance had paid off, partially at least. Genom teams had spotted several people who had jumped ship just before the cleansing started. For the most part they were just corrupt, hoping to get clear before the evidence of their petty crimes were discovered.
Two were different, as far as Domino could tell. They had managed to identify one, with about ninety percent certainty, as Michelle Danielson, once of the RCMP. She had retired a little more than a year before, citing personal reasons. No one had seen her since then.
The other was an unknown. A woman with long, dark hair, possibly beautiful. A complete unknown. An unknown for now at least.
She suspected that Miss Danielson might have some useful information, if she could be brought in. Too many 'ifs'. Domino did not like them.
"It is a fact that fish will not live where the water is too clear. But if there is duckweed or something, the fish will hide under its shadow and thrive. Thus, the lower classes will live in tranquillity if certain matters are a bit overlooked or left unheard"
- Yamamoto Tsunetomo
