An Alternate Story of the Knight Sabers
2034 Year of the Tiger
Neo No Armour Against Fate (Section 4 of 5)
Fearful Symmetry (2 of 8)
by Shawn Hagen(1999;2005)
Based on situations and characters created by Suzuki Toshimichi.
"You look confused," Domino said to Haruko. They sat in Domino's private office, one on each side of Domino's desk. In front of them were their NAVIs, papers, and a laptop computer hooked up to Domino's desktop system.
"I thought we were supposed to make Genom larger. We handle corporate acquisitions."
"We also handle the ultimate disposition of those acquisitions. In this case we are getting rid of some."
"Why?"
"There are a few reasons. When we took over Donaldson Incorporated we acquired a holding company called Kinkade Resources."
Haruko nodded. "I remember. That was how we got that MRAStech stock."
"Correct. Kinkade Resources held a number of other companies, including Victoria Broadcasting. Victoria Broadcasting is the fourth largest producer of media content in Australia."
"Isn't that of use?"
"Not really. It could be, but there is a problem. VB owns Sunset Pictures. Sunset Pictures is the largest producer of pornography in Australia."
"Pardon?"
"They actually do very good work, high quality I suppose you could call it."
Haruko looked at Domino for a moment, then let out a small giggle. Domino turned to look at her and smiled slightly. She remembered she did not want to be friends with the woman, with anyone she worked with, but that seemed harder to manage than she had hoped. "Well, high quality or not, we do not need it."
"Why not just sell of Sunset Pictures and keep the rest?"
"Its part of the grooming necessary."
"Grooming?"
"Yes. Picture Genom as if it was a tree, a carefully manicured tree, formed in a perfect globe around the main trunk. Mind you, this is not a perfect metaphor nor does it hold true for other aspects."
Haruko nodded.
"Now, the branches of this tree are covered in thorns, so trying to do damage to the branches or the trunk is very difficult. It is near perfectly defended. The tree grows though, and some branches begin to extend beyond the rest, alone.
"It would be possible to grasp one of these stray branches, carefully so as to avoid the thorns, and by pulling, tear it free, perhaps doing damage to the main trunk as well. Like gardeners we snip that branch off, cutting it back."
"What if the end of that branch were important?"
"We have other options of course. One of which is to cover it with more thorns, making getting a safe grip on it more difficult. We can then weave it back into the main body of the tree."
"I see, I guess."
"It will make sense in time."
"So we are going to snip Victoria Broadcasting free?"
"That is the plan."
"So do we just sell it off?"
"What do you think?" Domino asked her, leaning back in her chair.
Haruko was a little taken aback by that question. It was as if she suddenly given much more responsibility. She though about if for a moment. "Well, I guess we should move our own people into the positions of power, then sell it all off in pieces, its worth more that way, right?"
Domino nodded. "We are a little like a corporate chop shop in that manner, and normally that would be the best way to do it."
"What is the best way in this case?" Haruko asked.
"As I mentioned, Victoria Broadcasting is the fourth largest media producer. The first is the Australian Broadcasting Service, the second is the Australian Television Network and the third the Sydney Television Service."
Domino paused and looked to Haruko to make sure she was following. Haruko nodded, showing she understood.
"Currently ATN and STS are competing fiercely for market share. If one manages to actually win, the resulting company could be a threat to ABS."
"So we help one by selling them Victoria Broadcasting?"
"Yes. STS I would think. They actually have some stock to offer in trade that we could make use of. Once they have control of VB the tensions between them and ATN should heat up. That will make ABS very nervous."
Haruko said nothing for a moment, thinking over that Domino had said. "Do you mean to take advantage of that by helping ABS?"
"Yes."
"I can't believe it," Haruko said, smiling. "It is so elegant."
"Some might call it diabolical."
Haruko shook her head. "I don't think so."
"I'm glad. You will be handling this aspect of the job."
"Me?"
"Yes. You are up to it."
"But..."
"You are up to this," Domino interrupted, rudely. "I would not put you in charge of this if I did not think you could do it. I don't set people up to fail Tetsu-kun."
"Hai Odotte-sama!"
Domino smiled. "Good. Now I'll give you all the help you need, if you need it. You will not be alone. This is an important deal, but not terribly important. It is a good job for you."
Haruko nodded. "Thank you for your trust in me."
"You have earned it. Now, we still have other work to take care of. Do you have that report on MRAStech I asked you to prepare."
"Hai," Haruko said as she shifted through a pile of paper in front of her.
Domino and Haruko finished up late. Domino sent the office lady home a little after ten. After Haruko had left Domino put a few things in order and then left her own office. She did not leave the Tower though, instead she went to the executive lounge.
It was almost empty. Two junior executives, Seiji Amazawa and Hiroshi Nagame, were seated at a table near the back, talking softly. Domino knew that Seiji worked for Katherine Madigan, one of her site security specialists. Hiroshi was attached to the R&D section. Interesting to see them together, but it was not something she had to worry about.
Anyone working for Madigan was bound to be loyal to Genom, and Hiroshi was an almost no one when it came to things of importance. Either it was a friendly chat, or Seiji was making sure that Hiroshi was not up to anything he should not be.
Domino had seen it before.
"Good evening Odotte-sama," the barman, a woman named Mikari Yoshida, said to Domino.
"Evening," Domino said as she took a seat at the bar. "I'd like some shouchuu with pink lemonade."
Much to the woman's credit she did not say anything about the odd order. She took a tall glass from beneath the bar, placed it in front of Domino, then produced a bottle of the 'Japanese whisky' and poured some into the glass, waiting for Domino to indicate that she should stop. Domino held up her hand after she had poured about two ounces into the glass.
Mikari placed the bottle down and then went to one of the refrigerators, opened it and began to look through it. After a few seconds she produced a can of pink lemonadethe executive lounge was well stocked. She poured the lemonade into the glass, then used a straw to mix it. "Here you are," she said, putting the drink in front of Domino.
"Thanks," Domino said as she picked up the glass and took a sip.
"Would you like fresh pink lemonade to be kept here?" Mikari asked her.
"Yes, that would be a good idea," Domino told her.
She nodded then went off to make a note of it.
Domino smiled as she took another sip of her drink. The Executive Lounge pampered the upper executives as much as they might want. A small perk of the job. Pink lemonade and shouchuu was something Domino had been introduced to by one of her one-night stands. She enjoyed and thought it might be the perfect drink on a hot summer's day, with a pitcher of it by her side, or perhaps while soaking in an onsen.
It was not a very mature drink, but Domino was fairly certain she could get away with it. After all, everyone had his or her own little foibles.
She had not come to the lounge to drink though. She had come there to think in some place other than her office.
The events with Knight-hakase, then with Rathen, and most recently the attempt to steal Andrews-hakase from Genom. They had to be connected, Andrews-hakase had said as much, but what he had told her did not answer all of her questions. It did not even come close.
He had fallen in with some anti-Genom people he had heard of when he had been working for Largo; he had gone to them for protection. It was an acceptable answer, one that Domino could understand.
He, Andrews, had helped them cut some boomers free of the OMS with minimal loss in function. He had given them information on Genom, and when the time had come he had been willing to defect, in essence, because he was afraid of what Genom might do to him if he was found out.
All believable. So why was Domino sure that it was more complicated than that?
Andrews' information, while useful, had ended in dead-ends. Names like Lecoix, people already dead. It was of little use.
Part of her was sure that Andrews had told her all he knew, certain he could not lie to her. What if he had though? Part of Domino thought about torturing him, truly hurting him, breaking him and killing him to get all that she wanted. She might have, Quincy would let her, but for the fact she thought she wanted him hurt, wanted him dead, for personal reasons.
He had had a part in her creation. The thought that she might kill him was a heady one. How many humans had wanted to kill their creators, had said 'God is dead' in a desperate hope that it was true? Domino had an advantage that they did not. Her creators were corporeal beings.
She could kill Andrews easily enough. The Third Generation design team would be a little more difficult, but not beyond her abilities. Stingray was already dead. The entire thought process appealed to her, for a moment, then it was gone. She shook her head and smiled.
Domino had been sitting in the lounge for some time. Seiji and Hiroshi had left, Mikari had been relieved by Kentaro Ichinosei, and Domino had sat there, nursing several drinks over that time.
"It's getting late, isn't it Odotte-sama," Kentaro said softly, so softly that Domino could have politely ignored him, which was the point.
"A little," Domino said, picking up her glass and finishing off the last of the pink lemonade and shouchuu.
"Another?" he asked her, reaching for a fresh glass.
"No," she shook her head and got off the stool, acting as if she was a little unsteady on her feet. She had been drinking, and it was late. "I think I'll be going now. Oyasumi(goodnight)."
"Have a good evening Odotte-sama," Kentaro said formally, bowing.
Domino nodded, then turned and walked towards the exit. She did have a meeting early in the morning, and a little sleep would probably be in order.
For a moment she thought of going back to her condo, but decided it was too far. Instead she took the elevator down a few levels to where her Tower apartment was. It was not much, a windowless box made up of three rooms. It was not meant to be much though. It was just a place to sleep, and perhaps keep a few changes of clothing.
Thursday March 23rd, 5:13am
Nene rubbed at her eyes then reached for the box of donuts by her knee. It was empty. She was a little bothered by the fact she could not remember eating them all and wished she had been able to take more time to savour the last one.
At her feet Neko meowed for attention. Nene reached down and gave it a scratch between the ears. Neko seemed to enjoy it, though Nene had no idea if it really did.
She leaned back in her chair, letting the keyboard slide from the top of her knees down into her lap. She reached up and massaged the back of her neck. She looked at the clock in the corner of her computer screen, not quite believing it.
After she had finished putting her new computer together she had of course wanted to test it and Sylia had wanted more information about what was going on in Genom. It had made her course of action pretty clear.
Her new computer performed wonderfully, better than she had hoped really. All that processing power, it gave her an incredible amount of speed. Still, she had not tried to penetrate the most secure areas of the Genom computer core. She was almost certain that she could do it, but Genom was not like any other target.
Nene had contented herself with staying mostly on the periphery of the system. There was a lot of useful information to be found there, a lot could be learned if one looked at it the right way. Looking at it the right way was something that Sylia had taught her to do, and something Nene had become quite adept at.
She had lists of equipment requests, personnel transfers, funding patterns, and more. Put together and they told her things. Genom had recently been putting more resources into internal security and restructuring, if Nene was reading things right. A threat, from the inside, or from a person or organisation outside that understood how Genom operated, was a likely reason.
It was hard to say when it started, but it had been increasing since the night Prometheus Bound had launched their attack. It looked as if Genom was trying to locate whomever had provided the backing for that. Part of it traced to G&B, which probably explained part of the company's fate.
Nene yawned again as she saved and encrypted some files, deleted some others and basically cleaned everything up. She was going to have to be at work soon. Sleep would be nice, but she thought there was a good chance that if she went to bed now she would not be able to get up later.
She picked up a cup and swished the tepid coffee in about before drinking it. It tasted horrible, but likely because of that it woke her up a little more.
Nene tapped a few keys then shifted her chair about to look at one of the secondary screens. On it was being displayed an interpretative log of her intrusion into Genom's computer system.
When Nene had been eight she had first been introduced to the Gibsonesque world of hacking. Since that day she had desperately wanted to jack directly into the world of the computer. Man/Machine interfaces had appeared but they had either offered no real benefit, or they had been very dangerouslike the MFS system Gibson had used to control his Griffon.
She kept up with the field of research, hoping that someone would finally get it right. A research team in Bangkokfunded by Genomwas reporting promising results. Nene had her fingers crossedfiguratively.
Still, she knew it would be at least a few years before she could hope to have such an interface system implanted. As a stopgap measure, for her own entertainment, she had created a simulation program. It took the log of her activities and created a representation of what Nene thought things would be like if she ever were to jack directly into the system.
On the screen she watched as her icon began the run. Nene had constructed the computer representation of herself to look exactly like herself. Well, maybe the icon was a little taller and her chest a little bigger, but just a little. There were also the very cute tiger earsshe was so glad the year had changedon her head, and the very un-cute claws she sported from her fingertips.
Nene watched as the icon slid through the three perimeter walls of the Genom system. The first was a hard, the second harder than the first and the third fairly easy. A beginner mistake would be to assume that it was smooth sailing after the third wall, which is no doubt what Genom wanted people to think.
Beyond the third wall was what Nene had dubbed rover space. It was filled with white globes, each moving about, approaching anything in the area to examine it. Of course that was just how Nene pictured it. It was all just code really.
Her computer self whispered the right codes to each of the rovers, and when that did not work simply destroyed them. The rovers were an effective system. They drifted into each other, exchanging information, getting better at uncovering unlawful entries each time. It made it a bit of a task to get through rover space. Not beyond Nene though.
She watched as her other self approached the thorn wall, a very effective barrier. Not easy to get though at all. Her other self made a series of hand gestures, her claws leaving trails of light in their wake. Then she spoke the words of power and a passageway began to form through the thorn wall. A password, one Sylia had given her.
Nene might have cut her way though if she had to, but that might have been noisy.
She watched for a few more minutes as her other self moved through the corridors of the data structure, searching out the things she wanted. Occasionally she would remove a piece of paper from within her clothes and fold it into some origami creation or another, then leave it to watch the area.
Nene was particularly proud of that effect. It looked really nice, especially when the origami animals came to life.
She watched for a few more minutes but finally shut it down, and then she put her computer into sleep mode. She got up from her chair and then pushed it back before settling down, seiza style, in front of her computer. She pulled Neko into her lap and began to stroke its fur.
Sitting on top of the tower was a miniature hamaya, a wooden plaque with a tiger painted on it tied to the arrow. She had picked up the evil destroying arrow when she had visited the shrines on New Years. There were also two good luck charms hanging from the main tower, one for the Meiji Shrine and one from the Ise-Jingu Grand Shrine. Both had bells on them and Nene reached out to make them ring. Tied to the modem cable was a charm for safe travel and one for easy delivery.
Nene smiled, making the bells ring again. Her computer, she thought, was a little like a Shinto shrine. The true item of power was hidden away, only to be viewed by those who had ritually prepared themselves, for the power was dangerous. Yes, she liked the image.
Her whimsical thoughts were interrupted by another yawn. "My apologoes, o pasocon-sama," Nene said as she got to her feet, letting Neko drop to the floor. "I'm going to take a shower. Goodnight."
No one in the meeting room looked happy to be involved in an early morning meeting, which was exactly why Domino had called it. Since Quincy had dropped the problem into her lap, no doubt with a small amount of amusement, she had been dealing with it and the people involved for a few days now. It was one of the reasons she had increased Haruko's area of responsibility.
She was not really angry, but that such a minor and ultimately unimportant project was beginning to affect her other work was annoying. She had decided to put an end to it.
She smiled at all of them as she took her seat at the head of the conference table. Domino was not so much a morning person as she was an 'any time of the day' person. None of those sitting at the table were so blessed.
"I've read your proposals, listened to your plans and considered all the information you have given me over the last few days," she told them, still smiling.
"And have you reached a decision Odotte-san?" Shingo Akanori asked her. He was one of the top Market Analysts in Genom, an older man, near retirement, and resentful of anyone who fast-tracked. He and six other senior Genom executives had been working to make their project a reality for more than six months. Domino had only been put in charge three days before.
"Yes. The answer is no."
"No?" Shingo looked at her as if he thought he might have heard wrong or thought she was making a joke.
"Odotte-san, surely you can't dismiss the proposal that easily," Naoki Nakamura said.
"You didn't have the time to fully consider it," David Anderson told her.
"I am dismissing your proposal and I had more than ample time to consider it. Genom will not reintroduce the 33-S sexaroid boomer."
"But the profits," Shingo told her. "This project has the potential for enormous profits."
"Yes, for a time, then we will lose money over it."
"What?" David asked her.
"The 33-S was flawed, in a way, from the very beginning. Ignoring the use of C-class boomer components, we still have to deal with a unit that will eventually rebel from it's basic programming in all but the most extreme situations."
"What do you mean? They are just machines," John Yamashi said.
"In the same way you and I are just machines, perhaps," Domino said, "but the 33-S was not just a standard boomer. Most of them achieved human level sentience and sapience shortly after activation. Their basic programming was to become what the person with them wanted. They read body language, considered everything said, generated a number of possible outcomes and within a very short time were able to become what the other person wanted. It was almost like telepathy."
"What is the problem with that?" Shingo demanded.
"A 33-S will react to the strongest personality around them. Over time their own personality begins to develop and becomes fairly strong. Eventually they become individuals, no longer content to be a slave race. They want to be free and that is what they will strive for. This is the problem we will have if we re-introduce the 33-S."
"Surely we could do something about this," John said. "Make them less intelligent, something."
"And sell a substandard product?" Domino looked at him critically.
"Of course not," Shingo said quickly. "But there should be something we can do."
"No. What made the 33-S so superior at what it did is what will cause us problems in the future. A few thousand boomers suddenly deciding they no longer wish to be slaves is not something that I for one wish to consider. Also," she decided it was time to given them something, "Genom is introducing the 33-C Mark 2 companion model within a year."
"A 33-C?" Shingo asked. It was the first he had heard of it.
"An improved model, three basic skeletal frames, and you will be able to have sex with it." She looked pointedly at Shingo. The man had not been happy when his 33-S had been taken away from him.
"Will it function like the 33-S?" David asked.
"No, it would pose the same problem if it did. While these will not be as sophisticated as the 33-Ss were they will be more useful for other tasks such as bodyguard duty. And while they will not be able to judge one's tastes as well as the 33-S, all they will need is a little instruction on what one likes and does not like."
"Will they be as believable as the 33-Ss were?" Naoki asked her. "It was nearly impossible to tell a 33-S from a real person and not just the sexual aspect. If I sit down and talk to one of these Mark 2s will I be able to tell the difference?"
"Yes, eventually, but like all boomers, with time it will learn, become more human I guess you could say. The Endoskeleton class' use of organic material for part their brains ensures this will happen unless steps are taken to prevent it. I think most of our clients will be pleased with the new 33-Cs."
"And what was this about 3 skeleton types," John asked her, sounding interested.
"We will use three mass produced skeletons, female of course. One taller than average by about 10cm, one about average height and one shorter than average by about 8cm."
"What about male skeletons?" Naoki asked.
"Possible, but it is still being considered. We have to decide if there is a large enough market for male boomers one can have sex with. The Mark 3B C-class boomers were given basic male anatomy, which could function as part of their human aspect. We have not seen an increase in sales of the model though. Of course that model wasn't what most would consider a pleasing sexual partner due to its weight and basic lack of social graces. There is still market research that has to be done. If it appears we can sell a male model, we can retool the line that produces the tallest of the female skeletons."
"And what about combat features?" Shingo asked, realising he was not going to get the 33-Ss reintroduced.
Domino hid a smile. She had dealt with the problem in a way that did not step on too many toes. These men and women would now happily consider the new Mark 2s. Domino was not worried about offending anyone, but she chose to avoid it when possible. She had enough enemies in the company as it was.
Mackie looked the new motoslave over. It was in its motoroid form, standing in the repair cradle. Sylia had finished putting it together over the last few days; Mackie was currently linking the weapons system into the computer.
The design had more in common with the Typhoon II, though it also shared some aspects with the Tempest, Nene's new Motoslave. Much like her hardsuit, the new motoslave was designed around Sylia's fighting and command style. It was stronger, faster and much more versatile than her old motoslave as well as possessing a more devastating weapons systemthough it could be fitted with precision weapons as well.
And Sylia was programming an improved AI system for it. The new ones, the ones she had put in the Typhoon II, the Tempest and the Tornado were very close to true boomer work. He had looked over the basic outline for the newest system and was quite impressed. They could probably be better than anything Genom currently had out, but she would limit them. She had no desire to make the motoroids sentient. She wanted to be able to turn them off. It was almost a crime in a way.
The AI work was not his speciality though. He had inherited their father's mechanical genius but Sylia had that and his talent with AI systems. Unfortunately for all their brilliance there was little they could do if they did not want to be working for Genom.
Mackie began to pull the armour from the frame of the motoroid. As he did so he wondered what he might do in the future. Go to university, obviously. But what he would study and what he would do were still mysteries to him.
He wondered if he would find University as boring as he had found both Junior and Senior high school. He had put up with Junior, it was compulsory and his and Sylia's guardians would not have let him skip out. Sylia had not stopped him from leaving SHS; she had just made sure he wrote the necessary equivalency tests every month so he could graduate.
Of course university had girls, which was much more than he could say about that private all boys SHS he had attended. One of the finest schools in the country and one of the dullest as far as he was concerned.
But, girls or no, he still had no idea what it was he would do. There were so many fields open to him, but he was uncomfortable with some of them. He could easily get an Engineering Masters and design power suits. No matter what applications he designed them for, he knew that his work would end up being used in combat. He was not sure if he was comfortable with that.
Medicine was another option. There was a lot of work that could be done in the cybernetics field alone. Again that led to the possibility of his work being used for combat purposes.
Mackie was not entirely sure why that bothered him. Maybe it was because his father's work had been so extensively used for combat and Mackie knew that was not what he had wanted.
"How does it look?" Sylia asked as she came into the room.
"I don't think we'll have any problems," he told her. "We still have to give it a test run."
"Perhaps next week. If I can arrange it I'd like to take all four of the new units to some place where we can give them all a thorough run through. Perhaps up in Hokkaido's mountains," she said thoughtfully. "But we can worry about that later. Are you ready for tomorrow night?"
"I picked up my tuxedo yesterday," he told her.
Sylia nodded. "I envy you that. Formal is so much easier for men."
"Well, there are a number of styles of tuxedoes out there," Mackie said. "It took a little time to pick one out."
"How long?"
"Maybe ten minutes."
"That long," Sylia said, smiling. "Obviously the complexity of male fashion escapes me. Do you need any help with that." She indicated the motoslave.
"No, I'm almost finished. Have you decided on a name yet?"
"Lacking any other storm names that start with a 'T' I have decided simply to name this one the Hurricane II. Not very imaginative, but it is good enough."
"Hurricane II it is then," Mackie said, entering the name into the small computer on the repair cradle."
"Since you have everything in order I'll leave you to your work. If you could, drop by the Silky Doll in an hour or two and see if Azuki-san needs any help."
"Right," Mackie said.
Satisfied she had taken care of everything, Sylia turned and left the room. She still had to pick up her dress for the next evening. Unlike Mackie it had taken her nearly two days to pick the right style, and then she had had to get it altered.
It probably would have been easier to wear a kimono, she thought as she tapped the call button for the elevator.
Nene's late night escapades were dragging heavily on her. She knew it was going to be a long day. She was just dragging herself into her office space, a pile of reports in her hands when Leon called to her.
"Nene-chan, anything new?" he asked her.
"Not since yesterday," she told him, forcing herself not to yawn. "I've heard some rumours about a bunch of old models that were stolen from a recycling yard, but nothing solid.
"Keep up on it. I know it is kind of boring work, but we have to do it."
"I don't mind," Nene said as she walked over to her desk, placing the files down. "It's a nice change."
Leon nodded. "It's an easier type of boomer work than I am used to. Things have been pretty quiet, other than that blow up Chang-san was involved with." Leon paused. "Have you found out anything new about Genom?"
"Nothing special," Nene lied. "Why?"
"Genom is worried, I can feel it. I've never seen Genom worried before."
"Never?"
"Genom is too big to be worried about anything except something that can threaten them. Anything that can threaten Genom worries me," Leon leaned up against the wall.
"Better the enemy you know?"
"Genom and me are old friends now," Leon smiled. "I understand them."
"I hope you two will be very happy together," Nene smiled.
"Sergeant Romanova, since your promotion I think you have gotten an attitude," he smiled.
"McNichol! You bastard! I want to talk to you," someone screamed from behind them.
Both turned to see Asako Yamano stalking towards them. The set of her face, with the scar, made her look quite fearsome.
"What did you do this time Leon-san?" Nene asked softly.
"I gave her a present," he said.
"Okay Captain, what the hell is this?" she waved a disk under his nose.
"That is a large storage MMSD," he said.
"Yes, and the damn thing is almost full of some of the most incriminating evidence I ever saw against Genom. There is enough here to close four different cases I have been working on, nailing Genom big time and the real movers in the company, not just the little ones they have thrown to the lions in the past."
"Well that is lucky for you then," he smiled.
"Damn it McNichol, where the hell is a warrant for this?"
"If I had a warrant I would have used it myself. I thought it might give you some leads," he flashed her his best smile.
"McNichol!" she screamed as she hurled the disk to the floor then reached up and grabbed the lapels of his leather jacket. She was smaller than him but it did not seem to matter. Asako had never let anyone forget she had once been one of the number one operatives on the Tac Teams. "When I go to court and the Genom lawyers ask me why I looked into those leads and I have to tell them that I had a disk full of illegally obtained information what do you think they will do?"
"Don't tell them," Leon said.
"Ass hole." She slammed him against the wall. It did not really hurt but it did surprise Leon a little. "I will not perjure myself in a court. This data is useless to me. It just tortures me. Don't try to do me any favours McNichol." She released his lapels and stormed away.
"Well, that didn't go well. Next time flowers," Leon said.
"She was very angry," Nene stated the obvious.
"I should have expected that. Asako does everything by the book. You have to like that."
"I'm glad she wasn't mad at me," Nene told him.
"Don't let her find out you got that information for me or that will change very quickly," he warned.
Find the control in the chaos. That was what Kikuchi-sensei had told her. It was like a Zen Koan to Linna. Oh, she understood what Andrea wanted from her; she just was not sure how she had meant it.
Susanowo was the god of the storm. He was nature's destructive side, rushing in on the winds of the typhoon. She had to represent that random destruction, but at the same time she had to be in complete control of herself. She had to represent destruction in dance, but it still had to be dance, the audience had to know they were watching something beautiful.
So Linna moved about the stage, through the steps choreographed by Andrea, trying to find the control in the chaos.
Given a choice she'd rather be fighting boomers.
"I'd almost say you are trying to hard," Miki said from where she sat near-by. "Or maybe not hard enough."
Linna let out a breath and dropped down beside Miki, shifting into a stretch to keep her muscles loose. "That sums it up I think. You have it easy. You get to be Amaterasu. All you have to be is perfect."
Miki laughed softly. "Well, being perfect is terribly easy."
Linna laughed as well. "Easier than being perfect and imperfect at the exact same time."
"Isn't it kind of like a fight?"
"What?" Linna asked her.
"Well, you practice all your moves and stuff, getting each one perfect, but when you actually fight you just kind of go with it. Its no longer so pretty, but it all still works."
Linna gave it a moment's thought. "Yes, I guess it is."
"So don't worry about the imperfect part of it right now. Just get the perfect stuff down first."
Linna nodded. "That will probably work." She turned towards Miki. "Thank you."
Miki smiled. "We're all in this together after all."
"Right," Linna said as she got to her feet. "Let me see if I can get this to work." She took her place on the stage and began to move through the steps, just working on getting it all right and sharp. She'd add the chaos later.
"No, you're giving the weight to the wrong places," Priss told Takeshi as she walked over to him. "I need you to punch it up here and here," she told him, pointing to the lyric sheet in front of him.
"I don't get it," Takeshi told her.
"Listen," Priss said. "She was a lover or a liar, I don't know what," she sang, tapping the drumhead on 'lover' and 'liar'.
"Okay, maybe I get it," he said, taking out a pen to make some marks on the lyric sheet. "This would probably be easier if I could read music."
"Since when to drummers have to be able to read music?" Norio said, smiling broadly.
"Since when do drummers have to be able to read period?" Yuuko added.
"We drummers get no respect," Takeshi said good-naturedly as he played his own rim-shot.
"Enough jerking around. I want to get a feel for this one. From the top." Priss moved to the centre of the roomher soon to be recording studioand started on the opening chords for the song.
The others came in, nearly perfect. Priss nodded to Norio then began to sing:
"One to many times you've said farewell,
and it stops having any meaning.
One too many times you've been through hell,
and you start carrying it with you."
Priss moved back slightly, stepping away from where the mike would be if she were on stage. She had to be careful with her stage mannerisms in the studio. There was not a lot of room there. She, Norio and Yuuko played for several seconds, a musical pause, making sure that they were all at the right place. Priss began to sing again:
"Houses are burning, streets are wet,
screams of tires or victims, I don't know yet.
And every time that it happens you try not to cry,
you just harden your heart as you say goodbye."
"One too many times you've said farewell,
and it stops having any meaning.
One too many times you've been through hell,
and you start carrying it with you."
Norio took over, launching into a solo. It gave Priss a little time to rest her voice. Yuuko also got a little of the spotlight, picking out the low notes with her bass guitar. Takeshi didn't see much in the way of solos in most of Priss' writing, and this song was no exception. Just part of the burden of being a drummer.
Priss moved forward again.
"He was an angel in leather with a soul from the past,
and a sense of honour that destroyed him at the last.
She was the mother I lost to nature's wrath,
crushed when she got in progress's path."
"One too many times you've said farewell,
and it stops having any meaning.
One too many times you've been through hell,
and you start carrying it with you."
"She was a lover or a liar, I don't know what," Priss looked back and nodded at Takeshi;
"and her death was by far the cruellest cut.
And her sister died with my blood on her hands,
In anger and sorrow I made my stand."
"One too many times you've said farewell,
and you start to fail to say hello.
One too many times you've been through hell,
and you start being comfortable there."
The instruments were stilled; it took a moment for the last of the sound to fade. Priss looked about, then nodded. "That's what we want."
"So what do you call that?" Yuuko asked. "'Song from Quake Devastated Tokyo'?"
"'Too many times', but, I'll admit, your title has something to it," Priss told Yuuko.
"Can't we do a happy song?"
"Like what?" Priss asked her bassist.
"Well, there is some good shoujo anime music this season. Really up."
"Do I look like a voice actress?" Priss asked her.
"Well, maybe if I'm wearing dark sunglasses."
"Tell you what Nishizaki-kun, write something happy and good and we'll see what we can do."
"Yay!" Yuuko said.
"Yeah, great," Norio said. "Can we take a break now Priss?"
Priss nodded after a moment as she put her guitar into its stand. "Okay, let's take thirty minutes."
Takeshi stood up as he put his drum sticks aside. "So Priss, when are you going to have a big house warming bash?"
"Why, so you can come here and drink all my booze?"
"Is there any other reason?" the drummer asked.
"What do you say we have a small get together here, tomorrow?" Norio asked as he put his guitar aside.
"How small?" Priss asked him.
"Maybe a few hundred people."
Priss sighed. "How many have you already invited?" she asked as she looked between her drummer and guitarist.
"Not many," Norio told her.
"Fifty," Takeshi suggested.
"A hundred," Norio tossed out.
"About one hundred and twenty six," Yuuko said, "but they know unless they hear from us there is nothing happening."
"All right, but only because I could use a party." She walked towards the exit then turned and looked back at her band. "You have some calls to make I think."
"Party?" Miako asked as she looked through her camera's range finder.
"My band wants to have some fun," Priss told her as she brushed the hair out of her eyes.
"Don't do that."
"Do what?"
"Clear the hair from your eyes. I want a kind of wildness to it."
Priss rolled her eyes, but let her hair blow back in front of her eyes. Miako nodded and snapped the picture. They were standing outside of Priss' home, Priss by a pile of rubble that used to be some building or another. She had asked Miako to take some pictures of her. Her agent had suggested she might want to get some professional work done.
Priss was not sure what the point was, but had called Miako to take them.
"So, you going to show up?"
"Sure, probably," Miako said as she snapped another picture.
"Just wanted you to know that there was an invitation."
"Is the anti-drug girl going to be there? The one with the headband?"
"Linna? Maybe."
"She looks like she could be fun to play with."
"I'd avoid it if I were you," Priss said as she pulled her jacket tight against a sudden wind. "She could probably hurt you."
"I suppose I should worry about that. You doing anything tonight?"
"No. Why?"
"Want to go out riding. It will be cold, but the streets will be dry. A bunch of people going out to do a bit of racing. You know I'm not much up on bikes, but it will be fun all around."
Priss thought about it for a moment, then nodded. "Sounds interesting," she said. What it sounded like was irresponsible, but Priss had felt like she was being too responsible of late. A little stupidity could be just what she needed.
Sylia turned as much as she could and still keep her eyes on the mirror. Azuki Toda stood nearby, telling Sylia she looked wonderful. After picking up her dress, and taking care of a few things, Sylia had come back to the Silky Doll to pick up the right lingerie for the dress. She also decided to get Azuki's opinion.
Azuki was one of Sylia's employees, very good at her job with an expert sense of fashion. She of course knew nothing about Sylia's other work. Sylia was glad about that. It was nice to be able to speak to someone who knew nothing of the secret side of Sylia's life.
Sylia looked at herself in the mirror, frowning slightly. "I think the colour is too dark," she said referring to the blue-black of her dress.
"No," Azuki said, shaking her head. "I think it is perfect, it brings out the deeper colours of your hair."
Sylia stepped back from, the mirror, turning slightly, looking at her reflection's hair. "Perhaps."
The dress was fairly simple, yet elegant for it. It was basically a tight sheath of silk, covering her from just below the tops of her breasts down to her ankles. There were no shoulder straps, but small skin adhesive strips kept the dress in place. Her shoulders and part of her upper chest were covered by a half cape of sorts. It was also kept in place with skin adhesive strips.
It fit rather tight, though not uncomfortably so. Sylia had needed to choose her undergarments with extreme care to make sure that the lines would not show.
It was a nice dress, she was certain of that, but the colour still did not seem right.
Azuki, noting the look of dissatisfaction on Sylia's face spoke up. "Some light jewellery, perhaps silver, would look very nice with that."
Sylia thought about it for a moment, then nodded. Silver, or platinum or white gold. "I have a necklace with a small ruby on it," Sylia said.
"I think that would set it off nicely,"
Looking at her reflection, imagining the necklace around her throat, the white-gold chain only showing where it came out form under the cape, the red gem flashing just below her neck, Sylia nodded. "Yes, it is just what it needed. Thank you Azuki-san."
Azuki shook her head. "I'm just being helpful Stingray-san."
"Thank you anyway. Now please, help me get out of this," Sylia said as she walked towards one of the dressing rooms.
A few minutes later the gown was safely back in its garment bag and Sylia had changed back into her skirt and jacket combination.
While Azuki was straightening everything out, getting ready to close, Sylia was looking over the records of the day's sales. It had been a slow day as things went, the most expensive purchase would have been the ultra-fine, syntha-silk panties and strapless brassiere that Sylia had picked up, had she paid for them.
She looked over at Azuki who was refolding the contents of one of the shelves. Sylia liked the woman, she was a good worker and she had an excellent sense of fashion. Something Sylia appreciated.
It would be difficult to get clothing advice from any of the other women that she spent time with, which was really just the other Knight Sabers. Nene of course gravitated towards cute fashions without even really being aware of it. Priss, who Sylia suspected knew more about fashion than she would ever let on, would not take kindly to being asked such questions. Linna's tastes tended to go more towards relaxed clothing that one could move easily in. Perfectly sensible for a dancer, or a fighter.
So Sylia went to Azuki and a few of the other women who worked part time in the store when she needed a little help with clothing. Of course, Sylia thought to herself as she turned to the long term sales records, she did not often need help with deciding what to wear and what looked good on her.
Priss downshifted, slowing her bike, leaning into the curve. As she came out of it she twisted the throttle and shot out in front of the man on the big 1200 Genom Ookami. She waited until her engine was screaming then shifted up and twisted the throttle again. Her bike's engine was not as big as the Ookami, only 750cc, but she knew how to use it.
It was dark, evening coming early even though the days were getting longer. The streets were dry, for the most part, but the bikes were moving fast. She had not done anything like it in almost three years, back in her gang days.
She remembered riding with Sylvie. It had been nothing like this. She and Miako needed something to spice up their time together. They needed to take chances.
Her thoughts were quickly forced back on the impromptu race by a Kawasaki Ninja pulling up beside her, attempting to pass. She shifted up again, gunning her engine, pulling ahead once more. Her tires slipped slightly on a patch of slick ground but she kept in controlpartly in thanks to her smart tires. In her rear-view mirror she saw the Kawasaki go down. It did not look too bad; the rider managed to take it down under control. Maybe.
Just like old times, Priss thought, not sure if she was happy about that.
Several minutes later, just as they were heading out of Roppongi, heading towards Shibuya, Priss heard the sirens. It was about time, she thought. She looked into her rear-view mirror, seeing the flashing lights, they were some distance behind but closing.
She hit her brakes, turning at the same time, bringing her bike around 180 degrees with the quick manoeuvre. She drove back the way she had come, weaving in-between the other motorcycles, looking for the red and white Little Wolf that Miako was driving. She spotted it near the rear of the pack. Lifting her right hand she waved, hoping the get her attention. After several seconds she turned sharply to her right, heading down one of the side streets. She was glad to note that Miako followed her.
The two bikes whipped down the street, causing some of the walkers on the street to leap to the side. A number of curses and shouts followed after them, but Priss did not waste time being concerned about it. She had to figure out how to outrun the police. On her own it would be easy, but with Miako it was going to take some work. It had been some time since she had ridden the shortcuts, but she still knew where they were.
She found herself actually enjoying herself. The race had been stupid and juvenile, but things were getting interesting. If she were caught they would pull her license for sure. It added the necessary element of risk.
Checking her rear-view mirror to make sure Miako was close, and noting the flashing red light of a police bike, she turned into an alley, scattering empty cigarette packs in her wake.
Nene was a little surprised by Kaoru's car. The Mitsubishi Diamate was one of the high-end models and she would have thought it beyond his salary. It was a nice car though, and the seats did recline quite a bit.
Dinner had been enjoyable, the restaurant nice and now they were relaxing a bit-though relaxing might be the wrong word. She actually would have liked to go home to play with her computer some more, but she did feel guilty about cancelling their dinner the previous night. And all things considered, the kissing was not too bad.
Kaoru's hands moved down her back, stopping at the waistband of her skirt. At that point most of the buttons on her blouse were undone and it seemed the fastenings of her skirt were to follow. Nene shivered slightly as she felt the zipper slide down, the waistband of her skirt becoming loose.
Nene lifted her hips, letting Kaoru shift around as he slid her skirt down to her knees. It was a tight squeeze, and Nene had to shift back, but Kaoru managed to move between her legs. He leaned forward, careful not to let any of his weight fall on her, and gently kissed along her lower ribs.
Nene blinked, shivering again, glad that Kaoru had darkened the windows to opaqueness. Even so she felt rather exposed, being half-naked in a car.
Kaoru shifted his soft kisses down, giving her navel a quick lick before beginning to kiss along the lacy band along the top of her panties. Nene moaned softly, knowing where it was going to go. For several seconds she said nothing but suddenly pushed away from him, turning to the side, crossing her legs as best she could. "No," she said.
Kaoru stiffened. Nene thought he might get mad, then he relaxed and shifted about, moving to take the diver's seat again. He was breathing heavily and Nene could see the obvious state of his arousal. She suddenly felt a little guilty.
"Not going to make this easy are you Romanova-san." He smiled.
"Just that in a car, it's not very romantic." Nene turned and lifted her hips again; this time so she could pull her skirt up. She also was still feeling the effects of the late night before and wanted to be completely awake before she did anything.
"There are a number of love hotels in the immediate area," he told her.
"Is that why you picked it," Nene laughed as she began to tuck her blouse back into her skirt.
"One of the reasons. Do you want me to take you home now?"
"I do have to work tomorrow," Nene said. "It's not that I did not enjoy tonight, I did, but things got a little too fast." She pulled the zipper of her skirt up.
"Oh well, I can take it slow if I have to," he raised his seat and put his seat belt on.
"Kaoru-san, I love you," Nene said playfully.
"One of these days you will have to prove it." He smiled and started the car.
"You don't have to prove love," Nene told him.
"That's not a statement I would argue with."
"Smart man."
Her father was in the living room when she came in. Makoto looked up from his paper and smiled at his daughter.
"Nene-chan, fun evening?"
"Hai Papa. I had a lot of fun," she told him.
"One of these days I'd like to meet more of your friends."
"I'm afraid if I bring them over that mama will give them a grilling. I still feel sorry for Priss-san."
Makoto laughed softly at that.
"Where is mama?"
"Sleeping. She was busy in the operating theatre all day," he told her, a grimace of distaste on his face. Makoto disliked the thought of blood and surgery more than his daughter did.
"Ready for the big night?" Nene asked him. She herself was looking forward to the next night's ceremony. It was another reason she had cut her evening with Kaoru short.
"It is more your kaasan's night than mine, she's the one involved in the related work."
"Ever thought of doing AI work Papa?"
"Never. You have to have your head in an entirely different place to work in that field and succeed. I'm happy with what I do."
"I think it is kind of exciting to be invited to a ceremony like this."
"Well, it may be interesting," Makoto said, not sounding to enthused.
"Maybe boring?"
"Do you understand a lot about boomers?"
"No."
"Then it will be boring little girl." He reached over ruffled her hair.
"Tousan!" Nene said, pulling back so he would not make a bigger mess of her hair.
"Where the hell are we?" Miako asked.
"Somewhere in Roppongi," Priss said, pulling her jacket tighter around her.
"I haven't been lost in Roppongi in a long time," Miako laughed.
"I didn't say we were lost."
"Where did you learn to drive like that?"
"Around," she said. Out running the THP cop had not proven to be too much of a task. Whoever she or he had been, the officer had not been too up on the layout of the city.
"Well, wandering around Roppongi beats being ticketed by the cops," Miako laughed.
"Let's try that place out," Priss said, wanting to get out of the cold.
A neon sign that was one of the brightest in the area proclaimed the place Priss had chosen as 'Bar Isn't It?'
The place was packed, a lot of foreigners, not that it was easy to tell who was foreign in Japan, especially MegaTokyo, as of late. Still the buzz of conversation was predominantly English. Roppongi was a great bastion of Western civilisation looking for a good time.
Priss and Miako managed to get a space near the bar, with a little use of elbows and in one case, knees. It was rude but neither was feeling particularly diplomatic. They ordered the 500yen cocktails and then leaned back, watching everything, getting into the flow of the place.
It was hot; Priss opened her leather jacket and undid the top buttons of her blouse as she was beginning to sweat. Miako pulled her jacket off and tied it around her waist with a bit of work. She then pulled off the T-shirt she was wearing leaving her only in her black camisole. No one noticed; many people were dressed much more provocatively.
Eventually they got into the ebb and flow and made their way out onto the crowded dance floor, or at least the short stairs that led down to it. The music was boring, the sort of stuff you heard almost anywhere you went. Priss did not care for it.
A few people recognised Priss, and some recognised Miako as well. Miako went off to a dark corner with two big guys and Priss was pretty sure she was buying drugs. Miako's wide eyed, wired look when she came back confirmed it.
Some time later Priss wondered why she was not enjoying herself. It had not been all that long ago that spending the entire night in one of Roppongi's bars was what she considered a perfect evening. It was not that she was no longer up to it. She did not feel tired at all.
Damn it, she thought. She ordered another drink, and, after tossing it back, fought her way out onto the dance floor, looking for Miako. She was going to enjoy the evening no matter what happened.
She did, but it all felt forced to her.
Friday, March 24th, 5:32am
Priss poked at the soba in the bowl in front of her with her hashi. It was early in the morning, the sky beginning to lighten. The taxicabs were beginning to move along the streets, honking to clear the sleepy people from their paths. Crowds were moving towards the train ekis(stations), heading home, then most likely to offices and jobs and schools. She herself had a rehearsal with the rest of the band sometime that afternoon.
She suddenly wondered about the rider of the Ninja. She assumed he had taken his bike down safely, but she really did not know.
"Let's go," she dropped her hashi and got to her feet.
"Yeah, this night's dead and gone," Miako agreed.
Priss nodded, knowing how she felt. Until she actually got some sleep she would still consider it to be Thursday.
They made their way back to their bikes, unlocked them and started them up. Priss was a little drunk, but only a little. Miako was still stoned on whatever she had taken back in the bar, but it did not effect her driving.
Once they passed a police car, but the occupants did not seem too interested in the two bikers. After they made it to Miako's loft-it was closer than Priss' factory-they collapsed into the bed. Both were too tired to do anything and soon they were asleep, arms and legs tangled together.
"Walk stealthily where under the arch of heaven"
-Japanese proverb
