Somewhere, in a place hidden and inaccessible to mere humans, Ikkyu was sitting in a room. The room was made of cold metal and wraparound windows gave him a breathtaking view of the blue sky, with white wisps of cloud floating around him.
The monk didn't take notice of any of this, however. He leaned over the bench he was crouched on, staring intently at the floor. It was covered in paper and photographs of all sorts. A confusing mess to lesser minds, but Ikkyu was more than able to make sense and process the scrambled amounts of information he was absorbing.
Ah, it was difficult work being a genius. Escaping from Dokusensha with his genetic samples had been child's play compared to this. Nearby were several long tubes, each one large enough to hold an adult human and filled with bubbling green fluid. Two of them were already growing bodies, their infant faces hidden by oxygen masks. His earlier attempts to infuse his creations with new powers had resulted in resounding failures. He hadn't been able to figure out Dokusensha's secret to… 'unnatural' abilities until recently.
Soon after that, Ikkyu had had his first success and the result was now standing right behind him.
A woman with purple hair and encased in a leather bodysuit leaned over Ikkyu's shoulder, massaging tense muscles with talented hands. Ikkyu looked back and smiled, relaxing at her touch.
"Decisions, decisions," murmured the woman. Her voice had a silky purr in it; Ikkyu could listen to it talk of nothing for hours on end.
"I think I've found one for you, love," Ikkyu said. He drew his blade and stabbed a paper with the tip, lifting it into the air.
The woman walked around Ikkyu, the fingers of one hand ghosting idle patters around his neck as she passed through the bench. Her other hand reached out and plucked off the paper. Printed on it was a name and some information; attached to it was a black-and-white photograph.
"Not very pretty," the woman said dismissively. She sat down on the bench next to Ikkyu, leaning her back against his shoulder and stretching languidly. "Grew up in Japan but returned to attend and graduate from Cambridge, political science. So she's educated."
"Returned to Japan, died of an aneurysm shortly afterwards, buried in a small churchyard in the countryside, quiet funeral," Ikkyu finished. He turned so the woman leaned back against his chest, her head resting on his shoulder.
"Poor bitch," the woman yawned.
"But lucky for us," Ikkyu said. He ran a hand over the woman's silky hair. "Nobody really knew the 'poor bitch' and she died far away from anyone who should know her. It'll be a simply matter to go to England and get a job. Nobody will question a month-long absence in another country."
"So I'll take her identity," the woman said, giving the paper one more lazy look.
"And then the Library will 'discover' you," Ikkyu said. He gave a predatory smile. "Then the real work begins, my dear Mata Hari."
"No," the woman answered, turning so she could see her lover's face clearly. She returned Ikkyu's smile. "I'm your dear Nancy Makuhari."
"My mistake." The two shared a brief kiss. "My dear Nancy."
I was trying to write something slightly different from what I normally write - something with more substance. I'm quite pleased with the result.
Thursday, July 28, 2005