PLEASE READ BEFORE CONTINUING
The way this fic is narrated is different than the usual style. People seem to have gotten the hang of it well, but I've had a few complaints and I realize that I can be confusing at some times so here it is broken down as best as I can do.
The story in this fanfic is being told by Vivika a year after the events occurred. The events occurred one year after real folk blues part 2, so to sum it up, Vivika is looking back from 2 years post series on what happened one year post series.
Thus, from the narator's POV, everything in this story has already happened which is why it sometimes goes "I rember…" or "looking back on it…" or "if I had known what would happened next…" or something like that.
Get it? If you don't, well, SORRY!
Oh and BTW, I don't own Cowboy Bebop. If you thought I did, then that's just sad…
2—The Grave Next Door
The morning after Marla brought home that sword. Marla, Faye and I took breakfast at the bistro/coffee house across the street from Hearst's apartment building, and the day had started off generally rocky for those two.
I'd been sitting our usual table, with an extra chair for Faye already waiting, when she and Marla entered, bearing their loud argument for all the café to hear.
"Don't carry that thing around!" Faye insisted, referring to the katana Marla now sported with the sheath strapped across her back. "People will think you're crazy!"
"So far, you're the only one," Marla retorted, and then she pulled out the chair across from me and sat down.
Faye looked to me for help, but I knew better than to try and talk Marla out of something for it's just a waist of breath. And actually, to be honest, I couldn't bring myself to agree with Faye.
Even in these times of guns in plain view in holsters, and hidden in guarders, and knives stored in boots or belts—these times when a sword ~should~ look ridiculous—Marla was able to pull it off: carrying that weapon around, I mean.
I hate to say it, really I do, but that sword looked very natural across her shoulders. Even as she sauntered around this way and that, looking more unlike a warrior than one might think possible, it still seemed to me as if she'd always carried a katana. She had that kind of confidence.
I think Faye noticed it too, how the sword attached itself to my boss, and it was probably for that reason that Faye grew to loathe Marla Hearst—and yet at the same time look at the woman as if she were a child needing to be disciplined. Faye grew very authoritative towards her from then on, although Marla hardly ever listened or noticed.
"Well I don't care what you say—it's intriguing!" Marla went on as Faye slammed herself down into the chair between us, crossing her arms and legs. "Nobody ever caught the Dragon Slayer, nor do they know who he was, and here I am with an opportunity to find out and get into the history books—I'm not passing this up!" she proclaimed this with evident hubris, but I'm sure she really will end up in the textbooks one of these days. "It's too fascinating a mystery to just let go—classic who dun it. If this were I book I'd have skipped to the end by now."
Knowing all too well the signs of my boss beginning a tangent, I leaned over to Faye and inquired, "Dragon Slayer?" so I'd at least understand what all the fuss was over.
"The man who brought down the Red Dragons, single handed," Faye replied. Then, she added as if it were an afterthought: "supposedly."
"…And there's just too much paperwork involved in searching the DNA library," Marla was saying. She'd unsheathed the sword once more and set it on the table, bloody end uncomfortably close to my scone, and Faye scooted her chair back a little. The katana attracted the sidelong, nervous glances from other café patrons and kept the little ditzy waitress from offering our table refills on our coffee. "And it's not like we can really know if the blood is the Slayer's, so I figure if we get started as soon as we're done eating, we'll be in Tharsis before lunch."
Faye rolled her eyes at Marla and began to chew on a piece of French bread, still eyeing the sword; letting the blade's image imprint itself into her irises so she saw nothing else.
"What's in Tharsis?" I asked, taking a bite of scone and talking with my mouth full.
"The scene of the crime, duh," Marla smiled, but I couldn't tell if it was at me or the croissant she eyed. "Seems a good enough place to look."
Faye and I exchanged looks and then turned our stare to Marla, who was chewing quietly while scanning the morning paper. Faye, eyes narrowed, decided to take her chances and inquired as to what my boss was looking for exactly.
Marla grinned almost deviously. "The Red Dragons of course," she answered with that sly smile, and then returned her eyes to the paper ignoring our wide eyes and open mouths.
I suppose I didn't truly comprehend at the time the magnitude of her proposal. If on that day, I'd known what the repercussions would be, what we would have to pay, I wouldn't have gone to Tharsis. On the other hand, if someone had walked into that café right then and told me what was to be my future, I wouldn't have believed it. I would have said I was too dull a person for that kind of a fortune.
I didn't understand the danger of a Syndicate, for Marla had never associated with one before, and I suppose I must have, on some level, believed I was invincible.
I've mentioned before that Marla has her hand in practically all of Martian business. Were she to fall, the stock market would join her on the ground, and it is also common knowledge that she does not have a will, so were she to die her death would cause a free-for-all on her money, stocks, deeds, and files.
With that knowledge you can of course assume that it is in practically everyone's best interest that Marla stay alive (and happy, for she has the power for rather drastic revenge should she want it). So although I knew the violent tendencies of Syndicates, I felt secure in the knowledge that nobody would try to hurt my boss, and that the protection of her close acquaintance would keep us out of harm's way.
It never even occurred to me that there were others who cared as little about repercussions as she did.
Getting back to where I was, when Marla announced her plans to meet the Red Dragons my reaction was surprise. However, looking back on it after all the events resulting from her decision, my reaction ~should~ have been on a far greater scale.
Faye's response was far more realistic. She understood the dangers of the Syndicates. I don't know how she knew, and in hindsight I don't want to know because it must have been horrible, but Faye ~knew~ you should never poke your nose around the mafia's business.
She jumped up so fast it had her reaction to that katana beat, and she slammed her hands down on the table causing said sword to clang against the plates. "What do you—how can you possib—Marla—wha—WHAT THE HELL!?!?"
Aside from wincing a little when Faye yelled, Marla's demeanor didn't falter. She piled Sweet and Low into her coffee, made a pyramid out of the creamers, and all the while explaining her plans as if she were planning a day at the beach.
"Relax! I've got a plan…how are you on your current events?" my boss asked, and then when on before either Faye or I could reply. "Well if you've kept updated you do know that just meeting the Red Dragons is—"
"Impossible," Faye bit out, righting her chair and slamming herself back in it.
"Exactly."
I normally keep up pretty well with current events, but Syndicate news isn't my forte. "Why's that?" I had to ask.
Her reply sounded distracted for Marla, having run out of Sweet and Low, seemed to have reached a crossroads as to whether or not to destroy the creamer pyramid for coffee's sake. "Well you know, last year some kind of coup d'état happened in the Red Dragons and no sooner does that happen then Mr. Dragon Slayer comes along and ousts the new guy along with a building full of his people, and faster than you can say 'Bang'," she slammed her hand on the table for effect, "the Dragons split."
I frowned, unable to see where this was going. "Well if they dissolved—"
"No," Faye corrected me, "she doesn't mean split as in left, she means split in two."
"Shaas rii," Marla confirmed with a mouth full of croissant which she swallowed before going on. "That guy who did the coup—well there were a lot of people loyal to him and they got themselves a new leader and are still at large."
Faye nodded slightly, her eyes on the sword yet again. "They changed their name to the Gold Serpent Circle."
"What about the ones who didn't want that new guy leader?" I asked. "The ones that supported what the Dragon Slayer did?"
Faye's face was still directed at the katana, but her eyes had shifted to me and she frowned in a way that made me feel like a child.
Marla answered for her. "Disappeared," she prompted, popping the last piece of pastry into her mouth. "They're in hiding—gaining power but laying low until they have enough of it."
"I see…" I said, but I didn't really see. I was completely blind. "So how are you going to meet with them?"
Faye looked to Marla as I asked this, apparently just as curious. My boss merely shrugged and said, "Well I figure I'll pay a visit to the Circle first and see where my connections take me." She took a sip of her coffee-with-attitude and made a face. "But what I'm after most right now is some names…"
Then she stood up, lifting the katana from the tabletop and returning it to its sheath across her back. "Well come on! No time like the present!" and with that, she bounced out the door, Faye not far behind, and I in reluctant chase.
~~
Trimalchio, where we were, is only an hour or so from Tharsis by car and ten minutes by zipcraft. Marla chose the car, and I won't talk about the ride over except that road trips with Marla Hearst almost always include her singing "Toucha-Toucha-Toucha-Touch Me" from something called The Rocky Horror Picture Show, and me being paid 500 woolongs to sing the boy's part of "Summer Nights" from Grease.
Nuff said.
"Jerry, hi—what are you doing right this second?" while we drove around Tharsis in the lunchtime traffic, Marla called up some lawyer friend, which was her Tharsis contact for information on some of the more seedy aspects of the city. "Well your salad's not gonna get any colder so gimme five minutes, kay hun?"
They conversed for awhile, Marla making her inquiries and if I know Jerry he beat around the bush as long as humanly possible before telling her to go to the Standard Oil Company of Mars's downtown office where she could talk to somebody named Byres.
"Oh keep your 'Be Careful's-- I'll be fine!" my boss insisted with a smile. "Thanks a bunch I'll—Vivika, turn left at that light—I'll see you at Harry's party, buh-bye Jer."
~~
Everybody has a little bit of a masochist in them. It's that thing inside you that makes you break your diet for the love of chocolate, it makes you eat steak after a heart attack, it makes smoke cigarettes and it makes you buy lottery tickets.
It even makes you walk into a building full of men with guns controlled by a competitive sect of the Chinese Mafia.
Okay, so that last one didn't really fit in with the rest, but be that as it may there we were: standing outside the Standard Oil office feeding the meter.
When we walked into the lobby of the building, I felt eyes on us. It was sort of like that ancient Earth television show, So-and-So's Angels (I can't remember the guy's name; it may have been Charlie). The way the three of us walked in almost a coordinated fashion, high heels and flattering clothes, but it was probably the knowledge that we could and were walking into a building belonging to powerful people that added an egotistical boost to our strides.
I'm sure I didn't look as impressive as Marla, or especially Faye. I genuinely admired the way Faye carried herself: with confidence, power, and a warning of danger yet still holding onto a playfulness so she wasn't completely stand-offish.
I remember watching her walk and thinking: so this is how the women of the worlds get everything they want.
Marla didn't need to look so commanding, for she was already overflowing with confidence for the one pure reason she knew she'd walk out satisfied.
I don't know how I looked exactly. Probably like a secretary or a librarian or something, but I was feeling rather good about myself right then so I'm sure I wasn't completely hunched over or anything. At any rate, it's not important.
My boss walked up to the receptionist's desk and leaned over the counter, Faye and I on either side of her as if we were there for backup like some odd prison gang. The young receptionist looked up and smiled pleasantly at us, and one could tell by the genuineness of the act that she'd only just recently been hired.
"Hello ladies, how may I help you today?" she asked good naturedly.
"I'd like to see Mr. Byres," said Marla, smiling that upper-hand smile with no partition of the lips. The receptionist looked confused, and I can see why. Anybody important enough to have meetings with important people usually already knows where to find them, and doesn't need to ask a receptionist.
"I-Ah, yes…do you have an appointment, Ms….?"
"Hearst, and no I don't." She was still smiling. So was Faye, with a similar kind of smirk, seeming to find it entertaining.
I didn't mention this earlier, but when we walked in there were two men in dark casual suits conversing near the counter. When we approached they looked up to stare at us. At first I thought it was because we were a group of non-ugly women, Faye and Marla having their beauty and me having been told I'm cute, but one of those guys looked rather suspicious of us (the other one just looked horny).
However, as soon as Marla said her name, the men's eyes widened in a funny flash of recognition I've seen numerous times. As soon as the receptionist started to explain to my boss that she needed an appointment, one man rushed up with a gigantic fake smile and interrupted her.
"Ms. Hearst!" he exclaimed as if he'd known her ages ago, like one might shout at old acquaintances seen at a reunions. Marla's smile didn't change, and Faye's grew wider, for both had seen something like this coming and I'll admit I'd seen it too. "I'm afraid Barbara just hasn't gotten the swing of things around here—terribly sorry for the mix up—I'll take you to see Mr. Byres immediately," he turned to the perverted-looking fellow he'd been conversing with. "Gill, could you remind Barbara about our company policy?"
We were ushered into an elevator, but before the doors closed I heard the start of that other man's speech to the confused receptionist. A speech that began with a line I heard often when I went places with Marla: "Don't you know who that woman is?!"
~~~
While we walked down the hall to Byres's office, I couldn't help but lean over to Faye and ask, "So who is this guy, anyway?"
Faye looked over to that man who was escorting us, a Mr. Something-that-begins-with-a-K, who was rambling on about the history of the company. "Him? He's probably some lower Syndicate agent they stick out for PR."
"No," I whispered back, hoping Mr. K couldn't talk and eavesdrop at the same time. "This Byres guy, what is he, the leader of the Serpent Circle or something?"
Faye's face grew serious in a flash, but she shook her head. "Doubt it. I don't think even Marla can just barge in and get audience with a Syndicate leader."
I was honestly surprised by this statement, and I probably looked it for Faye went on, catching my arm and forcing my pace to slow with hers.
"Syndicate leaders are the type of men you don't just see," she told me. Her eyes were forceful, as if she found it very important that I understood what she had to say. "If they want you, they'll find you. They'll ~get~ you. It's that simple, and for them, it's that easy."
I didn't like that look in her eyes. There was something on fire beneath the pupils, burning enough to make me return to my original topic for mere want of a subject change. "So who's Byres then?" I asked.
Faye shrugged, and to my relief turned away from me to face foreword again and return her normal pace. "He's obviously got some power in the Circle, so he could be part of the leader's team—you know, somebody he trusts to run things."
"Ah," I said, and nodded. What else could I say or do?
When we met Byres, he was just coming out of his office. He was around Faye's height, blond, and with a face swollen from all the fake smiling he had to put himself though. I could tell he hadn't been trained to be a businessman, just from that odd off-green suit he wore. He looked to be the type who used to work out, and my best guess was that his job used to be more physical before the change of power when the Red Dragons broke.
He looked annoyed to see unplanned visitors, and our guide had to introduce us quickly before he might try and shoo Marla away.
"This is Ms. Gatsby, Ms. Chen, and," I watched K catch Byres's eye, "Of course you know Ms. Marla Hearst from Trimalchio." Mr. Byres's face changed all at once and we were invited into his office with all sorts of pleasantness.
The first sign of danger happened here, but I didn't realize it at the time. Marla walked in first, and sat primly on the black leather sofa, helping herself to the coffee on the table. I followed close behind and made for the seat next to my boss, turning my head to look back as I sat down.
I saw Faye stalk coolly through the door-- eyes nearly all the way closed, cigarette dangling from her lips, hands relaxed against her hips, and wearing a supermodel type 'let's get this over with' kind of expression.
And Byres was staring at her.
It was only for a moment, but it wasn't the kind of stare men usually give woman like Faye. This stare wasn't perverse or admiring, this stare glinted with hateful recognition. Byres's eyes widened as she passed by, as if she'd done something to surprise him, and then his eyebrows furrowed and he squinted, glaring coldly.
By the time Marla said, "I'm glad I could reach you," the expression was gone—replaced by the face of a businessman. I merely pegged him for a woman hater and pushed the look to the back of my mind.
Mr. Byres walked over to the chair across from my boss, his cane tapping along with each stride. I noticed the slight limp he had, meaning that he needed the cane and it wasn't just some ridiculous show for a wannabe tycoon.
"This is certainly unexpected," he said, taking his seat. "But not unwelcome. Our Tharsis office as well as our Ganymede branch have hoped to get into the Trimalchio market for a long time since you run it so smoothly—I can assume, of course, that this is a business visit?"
Marla's smile widened, but it kept its cool confidence. Sly. She had a whole deck of trump cards to pull and she'd bring them out of her sleeve one by one. Like Faye used to tell me: 'They can't say you're cheating when you're making up the rules'.
"Of course it's business," she assured him. "I would never just pop in to visit someone I never met before." That was a lie, but I don't think she realized it.
"But before we get into all this negotiating crap—mind if I take off my jacket? Thanks—I was just hoping to have a little chat with you."
I saw what she was doing, and I noticed Faye shift in her chair as she saw it as well. My boss had just started to take control. And now the jacket was coming off—the long coat which had hidden that conspicuous sword we all came here regarding.
"A chat?" Byres repeated, holding his grin but anyone could tell he suspected her of something. "What about?"
"Oh…the weather," Marla lifted the sheath's strap over her head, bringing Byres's attention to the katana. "Sports…" she stood up, and in one fluid motion unsheathed the gleaming blade and thrust it into the coffee table. "And a mutual friend of ours."
We all caught that flash of shock, and possibly panic, in the Syndicate businessman's face in those few seconds it took the splinters from the ruined table to settle. And then he was composed again as he looked up at Marla. I recognized the look: he was trying to guess her game plan, which nobody has ever done for the reason I believe to be that she makes it up on the spot.
My boss leaned on the sword's hilt, smiling her smile and meeting Byres eye for eye. I had drawn back from her, for although I'd expected some kind of show from her I hadn't expected this. Faye too looked caught off guard. She'd stood up as soon as the blade was exposed, and her hand thrust into her pocket where her gun lay. Byres's bodyguards had drawn their pistols already; they stood awaiting a reason to shoot. At the time this was the most danger I'd ever been in, and I was terrified. Now I laugh at the woman I was, for I saw so much worse after I walked out of that office.
Byres and Marla appeared to be having a staring contest. I'm sure neither blinked. It reminded me of an old western or samurai flick, where the opponents just stare for minutes on end, seizing each other up.
I wondered if he would believe she actually knew the sword's former owner—obviously she knew the weapon carried some weight, and now she was testing how much. In the silence, I waited for Byres to call her bluff and ask her to prove that they shared a 'mutual friend' they could relate to that katana.
But when Mr. Byres finally did speak, it was only to ask in a voice smoothly stating his wish to talk with Ms. Hearst in private.
Faye, who had yet to sit down and remove her hand from her concealed weapon, sent Marla a warning frown, but my boss paid no attention to the disapproval and instead turned to me. "That's no problem; you guys can get some lunch, just be back in an hour or so."
Stupefied and numb, all I could really say was: "Sure, what do you want?"
"I'm thinking Thai food. Something spicy."
And with those instructions, Faye and I left Marla with the Syndicate man, armed with a bloody katana many times more threatening than even her influence.
~~
Faye waited until we got to the car to start screaming. She then waited until the car rounded the corner before adding angry, animated gestures to her rant. Luckily she sat on the passenger side, else we might have crashed for all she really cared about her surroundings.
"I DON'T BELIEVE THAT FUCKING IDIOT!"
"Uh-huh," was all I could say. There'd been an accident on the road we were driving down and I had to concentrate on not hitting the cop redirecting traffic or the tow truck right next to him.
My lack of attention didn't seem to bother Faye. I remember her as the type who'd probably, it seemed to me, yell about what bothered her even if there was nobody there to listen, and I had a feeling that my being there as a sounding board only made her want to vent more.
"Has she ever done something like this before?" she asked me.
"What, like taking control of meetings in scary, weird ways? Sure, often."
"I mean on this level…"
"The Syndicate level?"
"Yeah."
I pursed my lips, running all the odd scenarios my boss had created through my mind. "Nothing on this level, no," I finally answered. "But all her ideas that seem crazy at the time either end up doing no harm at all or making her a few millions, so don't worry about it."
I tried to reassure Faye that it would all end up all right. To tell you the truth, I'd been scared that she'd leave. She wasn't the first woman Marla had picked up off some random place to befriend and drag around in our odd little posse. She wasn't the first, and I'm sure she won't be the last. All the others had run off in fear of the crazy schemes my boss would come up with and what trouble they might bring.
Frankly, I was lonely, and Faye seemed to be the most resilient of Marla's alternating favorites so I'd hoped she would stick around for a while.
"She doesn't know what she got herself into…" Faye was murmuring, almost if not probably more to herself than to me. "Has to pretend that she knew that man…that she was friends with him…nobody's going to believe her, she'll get herself killed and probably me too."
Meanwhile, I'd spotted a Thai place out of the corner of my eye. "Friends with who?" I asked offhandedly. I actually hadn't been that curious, just making conversation and all. It hadn't struck me then that Faye knew more than she was letting on, but by the time I found out it was well too late. "That sword guy Marla's pretending to know? Don't sweat it, she's a good faker—do you even like Thai food? Personally I'm getting pizza at that place next door--" but when I opened the car door to step out, Faye suddenly grabbed my arm and pulled me back.
"You don't get it do you?" she asked me seriously. I'm not used to being asked serious questions, since the person I interact most with is my boss, and this vague inquiry threw me off more than slightly.
"What?" I asked, feeling it would be best to play innocent. I thought: maybe she'll let me go if I act stupid; I don't want to deal with whatever is making her look so troubled.
But I was worried. Faye had far more life experience than I did, and she obviously sensed some danger in Marla's haphazard antics, and so I was worried.
Her grip on my arm tightened. "The Circle—Fuck, ~any~ Syndicate, just pick one! It's too dangerous to get involved in, especially voluntarily."
I didn't know what to say to her. "I-I'm sure it'll be all right," I rambled. "I mean, Marla's rich and all so if worse comes to worse she can bribe them to leave us alone."
Faye's mouth opened and closed, eyes squinted open and shut, and she removed her hand from my arm only to slap her forehead with it in frustration. "Never mind," she breathed, drained now of her normal enthusiasm. She opened the door and stepped out of the car. "I need some air," was the only explanation she gave me when she began to stride quickly down the sidewalk.
"Want me to order you anything?" I called out to her, jutting a thumb at the restaurants I stood in front of.
"Surprise me," she shouted back, and rounded the corner out of sight.
~~
I ordered the food and asked to have it ready in a half hour, figuring in meantime I could track down Faye and we could eat before having to go back to pick up Marla. However, the finding Faye portion of my plan was easier said than done.
I turned the corner that she'd turned and saw no sign of her. I'd assumed she'd been to Tharsis before (who hasn't?) and probably had some goal in mind as to where she wanted to end up. So I did that thing that people do when they're looking for someone or something and I asked myself, "If I were Faye, where would I go?"
Of course, I didn't know the answer to that. I didn't know Faye very well at all. I knew that her past must have been a horribly interesting one, which was why I didn't ask about it, especially after her comments about "dying twice" and things like that. I knew she liked gambling, and I knew she liked to drink. That was the extent of my knowledge of Faye Valentine/Gatsby at that time.
And based on that, the very last place I expected to see her was at church.
It's not how it sounds.
I was walking towards a karaoke bar, not sure if that was Faye's thing or not but noticing its large 'liquor' sign, and on the way I passed the most decrepit building I'd ever laid my eyes on. (It's actually quite a sight. I recommend taking a look next time you're in the area, it's on the corner of Broadway and Maine, East Tharsis.)
It was a chapel, or more likely the remains of one. The spire of a belfry—built for show, because no church uses actual bells anymore—and a roofless group of walls were all that remained of what was probably once a very nice gothic-style cathedral.
I'd stopped short on the street in front of it, merely to admire the sheer eeriness that was the building. The church ruins looked grey and dead, as if God had never blessed the place even in its prime, and yet the mere sight of the shattered and half-shattered stained glass drew me in to look closer at the only spots of color left on that piece of property.
I'd rounded to the back of the chapel before I'd even become aware of myself. My neck had been crammed back the whole time I'd been walking, staring up and trying to see if anything still lay in that tower. When I finally brought my eyes back to earth, I realized I'd wondered into the graveyard behind the building.
The cemetery looked in far better shape than the cathedral. I guessed the local disenfranchised buried their dead in this place, to judge by the number of newer wooden cross-set stakes compared to the older, and few newer, marble tombstones.
It was rather sad—and I mean sadder than a graveyard usually is.
I turned right, then spun left, making a complete rotation before I really got my bearings and even then was only half sure which way the street was from there. I'd just been about to pick a random direction and hope it lead me back to where I was, when I saw Faye.
I remember her as a black spot against the decaying brown of the graveyard. She was crouched low while balancing on her heels, her long dark coat in folds around her knees. She sat in that position very still and quiet, her eyes perfectly level with name etched into the headstone she faced.
Finally, with a slight shake of her head, she stood up and brushed herself off. That was when I chose to approach her.
"Faye!" I called, probably a little too loudly for a place where one should be reverent.
Her head shot up as if I'd surprised her, but she showed little reaction other than that.
"I didn't expect to see you here," I noted cheerily as possible, considering the setting, and jogged up to where she stood silently watching me, expressionless.
I suddenly felt very aware of how tactless I must have seemed. I mean, you don't just run up, shouting to people in a cemetery of all places. Afraid that Marla had rubbed off on me too much, I attempted a hurried apology.
"I-I'm sorry," I slurred the words together in a rush. "I didn't mean to interrupt you if while you were paying respects or—"
"I was looking for someone."
It's hard to describe it, the way Faye was when she said that sentence. Her face set still quietly stern, but with little expression and no emotion, not even in those green eyes of hers that were usually on fire. Her voice was quiet too, and very…I suppose nostalgic is the only word.
"Oh, you couldn't find the right grave?" I asked, taking her meaning incorrectly. "Want me to help you look?"
She looked over at me and gave an attempt at a small smile. Then she took a step foreword and pointed at one of the headstones. "Mao Yenrai," she said, reading off the name.
"Friend of yours?" I asked, but she shook her head.
"I was at his funeral....in a manner of speaking…" she replied quietly. Then, louder and facing me she asked, "Do you know who he was?"
This I was the one to shake my head.
"He used to be the leader of the Red Dragon Syndicate."
I was only minorly surprised by this news, for at the time Syndicates still meant so little to me. But nevertheless, my eyes strayed to the dates of his birth and death, and although he hadn't been young, I noticed that he hadn't been old enough to have died a natural death.
I began to shift from one foot to the other uncomfortably, as Faye took a few more steps.
She walked up to the tombstone next to Mao's, a lovely polished piece of granite, and tapped the top with a creamy white finger. "He should be right here," she said to the air. "Next to her."
"The person you're looking for?"
She nodded.
I moved so I was behind Faye to see what she saw. The headstone she tapped belonged to a woman I never learned enough about to satisfy me. I heard her mentioned many times, and she seemed so interesting a topic for all the events she apparently effected, but she's not the type of person you just bring up in a conversation. She the type you're not supposed to talk about, but want to. The name was kind of taboo, as if it would set off a bomb when uttered—you had to whisper it, and never say it in a hateful tone.
But I didn't know that at the time. At the time, it was just a name to me. The name of a woman I'd never met but whose life—or more likely the aftermath of her life and death--would soon effect my own even while she lay in her coffin.
"Julia Buchanan?" I read aloud. "Was she in the Red Dragons too?" I looked at the dates of her birth and death. She'd died far too young.
Faye shrugged. "I don't know who she was exactly…" she tapped the headstone again, and then moved away from it as if she'd done something to be ashamed of.
"He should be right here," she repeated softly. It was then that I noticed there was a large space, an empty plot, between Julia and Mao. "Next to her."
"Maybe you're remembering it wrong," I offered.
Faye shook her head quickly, dismissing me. "I haven't been here before."
"Then how do you know…" I allowed myself to trail off there, knowing that it didn't matter if I finished the thought or not. Faye was trapped inside herself for the time being. She allowed her voice to travel in my direction, probably so she wouldn't feel crazy for talking to herself, but in truth her eyes saw only the dry earth under which a coffin should but didn't lie.
She focused on that empty spot where a grave marker should be, and that fire began to return to her eyes. It glowed like a spark might; a spark with ambition, but a spark nonetheless. Sorrow, anger, that nostalgia—the emotions showed, but just barely, for she tried so hard to look indifferent and mostly succeeded.
"If he's not here…" Faye spoke again. "Then I don't know where to find him." There was a pause. "Unless he didn't…" she trailed off and I watched her fists clench until the knuckles turned white.
"Bastard," she suddenly hissed so quietly that I barely heard it. "Just like you to disappear. Fine. Hide in the ground; I don't care where you're really lying, here is where I say goodbye." I'm sure I hadn't been meant to hear that, but hear it I did, and I thought of if constantly after meeting Spike Spiegel.
Then she turned on her heel, back to the empty plot and stalked off in a quick walk. She grabbed my arm as she passed me and I could barely keep up with her steps. I felt like a child being led off by an overstressed soccer mom, and it probably looked rather embarrassing, but at the time I didn't mind being led off like that for all I really wanted was to get out of that cemetery.
~~
When we reached the main road, headed in the direction of the Thai restaurant and pizzeria, my comm. rang. It was Marla, and she once again sounded extremely excited although I'd assumed it was for some unjustifiable reason.
"Viv! Faye!" she called, her face tiny on the vidscreen. I said hi and Faye leaned over my shoulder and into the camera's view. My boss had a wide, 'I told you so' kind of smile that I didn't like but felt curious about.
"I did it!" proclaimed Marla Hearst. "I got the name—oh and you'll never guess all I've found out!"
"What did you find out?" I asked to humor her. Obviously her meeting was over, and I still had to get the food. I'd figured that if I could keep her talking long enough, hopefully she wouldn't rush me about getting lunch. Okay and I'll admit it. I was a little curious too.
"Well first off, that sword. I found out who it belonged to."
"Good for you," grumbled Faye with no enthusiasm whatsoever.
"Vicious!" Marla cried, and I told her not to call people names. "No, I wasn't saying Faye's vicious—that's the guy's name! The katana fellow; and did you know? He was the guy—THE guy who did that final takeover of the Red Dragons before the slayer killed him!"
She sounded so excited, and I'll admit it was an interesting bit of news that would come in handy later, but at the time all I was really wondering was why a mother would name their child Vicious. Then of course I figured a parent wouldn't do that and I began to wonder how bad a name had to be to want to change it to Vicious.
They were all very unimportant thoughts I won't go any further describing.
"How'd you get this information?" Faye asked, interrupting Marla's gushing over her precious sword and my idiot private musings.
My boss waved her hand nonchalantly. "Just some insider trading, bond selling and all, no biggie," she explained. "Standard Oil wanted some shares in that Tritanium mill I bought last year, so I shifted some stuff around for them. Byres was very agreeable once I brought out the credit card."
"Were you able to keep up the ruse?" Faye demanded. "Does he still believe you and Vicious were 'mutual friends', or whatever?"
"Sure, sure," my boss returned with the same hand wave as before. "I got him to believe that I was making business deals with Vicious before the Dragons split, and that all I wanted was to finish out the agreement. Safe as pie, you didn't have to worry about a little white lie—oops, that shouldn't have rhymed, probably sounded corny." And with that, she began to giggle at her own expense. But then she stopped, and that overly proud smile returned.
"And you know what else I got?" Marla asked us in that way that meant we weren't really supposed to guess. "I got the slayer's name: Spike Spiegel."
Faye's bottom lip disappeared under her top row of teeth for a moment as she made a miffed sort of noise. "Spike Spiegel," she reiterated. "And who is he?"
My boss frowned, "The DRAGONSLAYER, I just said so!" she huffed, but the smile came back in a mere fraction of a second. "I haven't had time to do much checking yet, but this dude is famous in the more notorious circles. On our neck of the woods however, he was a Cowboy."
"A bounty hunter?" I asked, because even though I don't think there are actual cowboys left you can never really be sure.
"Yeah, bounty hunter," Marla confirmed. "Anyway, we find him, we find answers."
Faye and I exchanged glances. "What are the questions?" we asked at once.
Hearst blinked a couple times, surprised we all weren't thinking on the same wavelength. "Why, I want do know about the battle of course!" she held up the katana so Faye and I could see it on the little screen. "I still have to check the DNA database and see if the bloodstain's actually this Spiegel's—I mean, for all we know Vicious coulda just gone around hitting people randomly, but I'm hoping it's something more interesting."
One of Faye's eyebrows twitched dramatically, and she continued to frown in such a way that her failing attempt at composure was obvious and rather funny.
"More interesting?" she repeated. "How's that?"
"Well—a duel of course!" Marla announced as if it were obvious.
It didn't look good for Faye's self control, so I took the next 'question you'll regret asking later'. And that question was: "What makes you think there as a duel?"
Marla was sheathing the sword again. It was out of view of the screen but I could hear its awful metallic ring. "Well how does one person—ONE person—bring down a crime ring? I mean, there were probably a lot of people he had to take down, why would he do that all by himself?"
"Maybe he was stupid," Faye offered in a bitter voice.
"Well fine, maybe Spiegel was stupid, but I've got other theories." She didn't wait for me to ask, she just kept talking. "Such as this: I think that Vicious was very important in keeping the Red Dragons together, I mean, why else would they split after he died? So I'm thinking that this Spike person, if he really wants to take down the Red Dragons and he doesn't have any backup—"
"What if he didn't want backup?" Faye interrupted. "Men can be stubborn asses, you know."
Marla let out a laugh. "Too true!" she cried. "But there's a fine line between stubborn and suicidal."
"A ~very~ fine line," Faye muttered, but my boss didn't hear.
"So my theory is that if he's got as much brains as a dog he at least knows he can't take down the whole organization by himself—so he goes for the guy in charge," Marla finally wound down her explanation. "You know, like a duel to the death."
Faye rolled her eyes and sent me a look.
"But didn't the Dragon slayer die too?" I reminded my boss. "I mean, it can happen, but both people usually don't die in a duel."
Marla shrugged. "The Gold Serpent Circle seems to think Spiegel is alive," she said matter-o-factly. "They're looking for him."
I looked up at Faye, but she rather scared me right then so I turned back to my boss and asked, "If a Syndicate can't find the guy who must be on the top of their most wanted list, what makes you think you can?"
Smiling her businesswoman smile, Marla said, "I've got a plan," and I distinctly remember thinking: Aw shit.
But she did have a plan. A good plan—well, good in the fact that it was effective, but horrible in the way that if backfired. Marla may have wanted to find out more about Spike Spiegel, but I had had no interest. Still, whether I wanted to or not, in less than an hour from the time my boss hung up I would meet the man that ultimately sent Faye and I from hell to heaven and back to earth completely lost.
Not all the pieces of the puzzle that was Spike, Faye, the Syndicates and the Bebop fit together at once for I never, until the end, had all the pieces in my hands. Still, our adventure began there, on that street corner in front of the chapel ruins.
A large, black car rounded the corner with a screech and before I'd seen a thing Faye grabbed my arm and pulled me down. Before the word "Duck!" was out of her lips, a round of bullets flew over where our heads had been.
And with that, I was shoved out of my world and forced into the world that Faye and Spike begrudgedly called home.
~~
Gah, this chapter was so…political… and LONG dammit—sorry bout that, it had to be what it had to be. I looked for stuff to cut out, but what wasn't important to the plot was important to the characterization, and what wasn't important to the characterization was something hopefully amusing enough to help people bare with the political stuff. It's a vicious circle you see, no CB character pun intended.
It so happens to be a problem of mine that I can't bring myself to say "and one thing led to another and they ended up at [insert setting here]" I just can't do that! I have to go for the how and the why and I know it takes up more pages but it would have very much bothered me if they'd gotten Spike's name from a random person who just happens to be there or something so easy.
This chapter was pretty much about plot presentation, but I made sure to ad character development scenes. I want this story to be more emotionally directed, but I want there to be a plot as well because a persons actions are relative to their situation, and I plan on writing in some interesting (hopefully) situations. So bare with me on a boring chapter like this, you'll see later on that it was necessary.
On a higher note, SPIKE IS IN THE NEXT CHAPTER-YAY!! All the cast is gonna show up eventually, but Spike comes first of course. And on more good news, once Spike shows up I can finally fading Marla back into the role of secondary character (she's important to the plot line and all, but nobody really cares—a lot of people hate her actually)
IF YOU WERE CONFUSED ABOUT THIS CHAPTER
Ok so the ending to this chapter was a little cryptic on some level I suppose. Remember, all of these events have already happened and Vivika is just recounting them. I wrote a longer notice about this at the top. Basically at the end of this chapter a car rounded the corner and somebody started shooting at Vivika and Faye.
Anywho, this author's note has gone on for WAY too long so I'll leave you alone and please review!
The way this fic is narrated is different than the usual style. People seem to have gotten the hang of it well, but I've had a few complaints and I realize that I can be confusing at some times so here it is broken down as best as I can do.
The story in this fanfic is being told by Vivika a year after the events occurred. The events occurred one year after real folk blues part 2, so to sum it up, Vivika is looking back from 2 years post series on what happened one year post series.
Thus, from the narator's POV, everything in this story has already happened which is why it sometimes goes "I rember…" or "looking back on it…" or "if I had known what would happened next…" or something like that.
Get it? If you don't, well, SORRY!
Oh and BTW, I don't own Cowboy Bebop. If you thought I did, then that's just sad…
2—The Grave Next Door
The morning after Marla brought home that sword. Marla, Faye and I took breakfast at the bistro/coffee house across the street from Hearst's apartment building, and the day had started off generally rocky for those two.
I'd been sitting our usual table, with an extra chair for Faye already waiting, when she and Marla entered, bearing their loud argument for all the café to hear.
"Don't carry that thing around!" Faye insisted, referring to the katana Marla now sported with the sheath strapped across her back. "People will think you're crazy!"
"So far, you're the only one," Marla retorted, and then she pulled out the chair across from me and sat down.
Faye looked to me for help, but I knew better than to try and talk Marla out of something for it's just a waist of breath. And actually, to be honest, I couldn't bring myself to agree with Faye.
Even in these times of guns in plain view in holsters, and hidden in guarders, and knives stored in boots or belts—these times when a sword ~should~ look ridiculous—Marla was able to pull it off: carrying that weapon around, I mean.
I hate to say it, really I do, but that sword looked very natural across her shoulders. Even as she sauntered around this way and that, looking more unlike a warrior than one might think possible, it still seemed to me as if she'd always carried a katana. She had that kind of confidence.
I think Faye noticed it too, how the sword attached itself to my boss, and it was probably for that reason that Faye grew to loathe Marla Hearst—and yet at the same time look at the woman as if she were a child needing to be disciplined. Faye grew very authoritative towards her from then on, although Marla hardly ever listened or noticed.
"Well I don't care what you say—it's intriguing!" Marla went on as Faye slammed herself down into the chair between us, crossing her arms and legs. "Nobody ever caught the Dragon Slayer, nor do they know who he was, and here I am with an opportunity to find out and get into the history books—I'm not passing this up!" she proclaimed this with evident hubris, but I'm sure she really will end up in the textbooks one of these days. "It's too fascinating a mystery to just let go—classic who dun it. If this were I book I'd have skipped to the end by now."
Knowing all too well the signs of my boss beginning a tangent, I leaned over to Faye and inquired, "Dragon Slayer?" so I'd at least understand what all the fuss was over.
"The man who brought down the Red Dragons, single handed," Faye replied. Then, she added as if it were an afterthought: "supposedly."
"…And there's just too much paperwork involved in searching the DNA library," Marla was saying. She'd unsheathed the sword once more and set it on the table, bloody end uncomfortably close to my scone, and Faye scooted her chair back a little. The katana attracted the sidelong, nervous glances from other café patrons and kept the little ditzy waitress from offering our table refills on our coffee. "And it's not like we can really know if the blood is the Slayer's, so I figure if we get started as soon as we're done eating, we'll be in Tharsis before lunch."
Faye rolled her eyes at Marla and began to chew on a piece of French bread, still eyeing the sword; letting the blade's image imprint itself into her irises so she saw nothing else.
"What's in Tharsis?" I asked, taking a bite of scone and talking with my mouth full.
"The scene of the crime, duh," Marla smiled, but I couldn't tell if it was at me or the croissant she eyed. "Seems a good enough place to look."
Faye and I exchanged looks and then turned our stare to Marla, who was chewing quietly while scanning the morning paper. Faye, eyes narrowed, decided to take her chances and inquired as to what my boss was looking for exactly.
Marla grinned almost deviously. "The Red Dragons of course," she answered with that sly smile, and then returned her eyes to the paper ignoring our wide eyes and open mouths.
I suppose I didn't truly comprehend at the time the magnitude of her proposal. If on that day, I'd known what the repercussions would be, what we would have to pay, I wouldn't have gone to Tharsis. On the other hand, if someone had walked into that café right then and told me what was to be my future, I wouldn't have believed it. I would have said I was too dull a person for that kind of a fortune.
I didn't understand the danger of a Syndicate, for Marla had never associated with one before, and I suppose I must have, on some level, believed I was invincible.
I've mentioned before that Marla has her hand in practically all of Martian business. Were she to fall, the stock market would join her on the ground, and it is also common knowledge that she does not have a will, so were she to die her death would cause a free-for-all on her money, stocks, deeds, and files.
With that knowledge you can of course assume that it is in practically everyone's best interest that Marla stay alive (and happy, for she has the power for rather drastic revenge should she want it). So although I knew the violent tendencies of Syndicates, I felt secure in the knowledge that nobody would try to hurt my boss, and that the protection of her close acquaintance would keep us out of harm's way.
It never even occurred to me that there were others who cared as little about repercussions as she did.
Getting back to where I was, when Marla announced her plans to meet the Red Dragons my reaction was surprise. However, looking back on it after all the events resulting from her decision, my reaction ~should~ have been on a far greater scale.
Faye's response was far more realistic. She understood the dangers of the Syndicates. I don't know how she knew, and in hindsight I don't want to know because it must have been horrible, but Faye ~knew~ you should never poke your nose around the mafia's business.
She jumped up so fast it had her reaction to that katana beat, and she slammed her hands down on the table causing said sword to clang against the plates. "What do you—how can you possib—Marla—wha—WHAT THE HELL!?!?"
Aside from wincing a little when Faye yelled, Marla's demeanor didn't falter. She piled Sweet and Low into her coffee, made a pyramid out of the creamers, and all the while explaining her plans as if she were planning a day at the beach.
"Relax! I've got a plan…how are you on your current events?" my boss asked, and then when on before either Faye or I could reply. "Well if you've kept updated you do know that just meeting the Red Dragons is—"
"Impossible," Faye bit out, righting her chair and slamming herself back in it.
"Exactly."
I normally keep up pretty well with current events, but Syndicate news isn't my forte. "Why's that?" I had to ask.
Her reply sounded distracted for Marla, having run out of Sweet and Low, seemed to have reached a crossroads as to whether or not to destroy the creamer pyramid for coffee's sake. "Well you know, last year some kind of coup d'état happened in the Red Dragons and no sooner does that happen then Mr. Dragon Slayer comes along and ousts the new guy along with a building full of his people, and faster than you can say 'Bang'," she slammed her hand on the table for effect, "the Dragons split."
I frowned, unable to see where this was going. "Well if they dissolved—"
"No," Faye corrected me, "she doesn't mean split as in left, she means split in two."
"Shaas rii," Marla confirmed with a mouth full of croissant which she swallowed before going on. "That guy who did the coup—well there were a lot of people loyal to him and they got themselves a new leader and are still at large."
Faye nodded slightly, her eyes on the sword yet again. "They changed their name to the Gold Serpent Circle."
"What about the ones who didn't want that new guy leader?" I asked. "The ones that supported what the Dragon Slayer did?"
Faye's face was still directed at the katana, but her eyes had shifted to me and she frowned in a way that made me feel like a child.
Marla answered for her. "Disappeared," she prompted, popping the last piece of pastry into her mouth. "They're in hiding—gaining power but laying low until they have enough of it."
"I see…" I said, but I didn't really see. I was completely blind. "So how are you going to meet with them?"
Faye looked to Marla as I asked this, apparently just as curious. My boss merely shrugged and said, "Well I figure I'll pay a visit to the Circle first and see where my connections take me." She took a sip of her coffee-with-attitude and made a face. "But what I'm after most right now is some names…"
Then she stood up, lifting the katana from the tabletop and returning it to its sheath across her back. "Well come on! No time like the present!" and with that, she bounced out the door, Faye not far behind, and I in reluctant chase.
~~
Trimalchio, where we were, is only an hour or so from Tharsis by car and ten minutes by zipcraft. Marla chose the car, and I won't talk about the ride over except that road trips with Marla Hearst almost always include her singing "Toucha-Toucha-Toucha-Touch Me" from something called The Rocky Horror Picture Show, and me being paid 500 woolongs to sing the boy's part of "Summer Nights" from Grease.
Nuff said.
"Jerry, hi—what are you doing right this second?" while we drove around Tharsis in the lunchtime traffic, Marla called up some lawyer friend, which was her Tharsis contact for information on some of the more seedy aspects of the city. "Well your salad's not gonna get any colder so gimme five minutes, kay hun?"
They conversed for awhile, Marla making her inquiries and if I know Jerry he beat around the bush as long as humanly possible before telling her to go to the Standard Oil Company of Mars's downtown office where she could talk to somebody named Byres.
"Oh keep your 'Be Careful's-- I'll be fine!" my boss insisted with a smile. "Thanks a bunch I'll—Vivika, turn left at that light—I'll see you at Harry's party, buh-bye Jer."
~~
Everybody has a little bit of a masochist in them. It's that thing inside you that makes you break your diet for the love of chocolate, it makes you eat steak after a heart attack, it makes smoke cigarettes and it makes you buy lottery tickets.
It even makes you walk into a building full of men with guns controlled by a competitive sect of the Chinese Mafia.
Okay, so that last one didn't really fit in with the rest, but be that as it may there we were: standing outside the Standard Oil office feeding the meter.
When we walked into the lobby of the building, I felt eyes on us. It was sort of like that ancient Earth television show, So-and-So's Angels (I can't remember the guy's name; it may have been Charlie). The way the three of us walked in almost a coordinated fashion, high heels and flattering clothes, but it was probably the knowledge that we could and were walking into a building belonging to powerful people that added an egotistical boost to our strides.
I'm sure I didn't look as impressive as Marla, or especially Faye. I genuinely admired the way Faye carried herself: with confidence, power, and a warning of danger yet still holding onto a playfulness so she wasn't completely stand-offish.
I remember watching her walk and thinking: so this is how the women of the worlds get everything they want.
Marla didn't need to look so commanding, for she was already overflowing with confidence for the one pure reason she knew she'd walk out satisfied.
I don't know how I looked exactly. Probably like a secretary or a librarian or something, but I was feeling rather good about myself right then so I'm sure I wasn't completely hunched over or anything. At any rate, it's not important.
My boss walked up to the receptionist's desk and leaned over the counter, Faye and I on either side of her as if we were there for backup like some odd prison gang. The young receptionist looked up and smiled pleasantly at us, and one could tell by the genuineness of the act that she'd only just recently been hired.
"Hello ladies, how may I help you today?" she asked good naturedly.
"I'd like to see Mr. Byres," said Marla, smiling that upper-hand smile with no partition of the lips. The receptionist looked confused, and I can see why. Anybody important enough to have meetings with important people usually already knows where to find them, and doesn't need to ask a receptionist.
"I-Ah, yes…do you have an appointment, Ms….?"
"Hearst, and no I don't." She was still smiling. So was Faye, with a similar kind of smirk, seeming to find it entertaining.
I didn't mention this earlier, but when we walked in there were two men in dark casual suits conversing near the counter. When we approached they looked up to stare at us. At first I thought it was because we were a group of non-ugly women, Faye and Marla having their beauty and me having been told I'm cute, but one of those guys looked rather suspicious of us (the other one just looked horny).
However, as soon as Marla said her name, the men's eyes widened in a funny flash of recognition I've seen numerous times. As soon as the receptionist started to explain to my boss that she needed an appointment, one man rushed up with a gigantic fake smile and interrupted her.
"Ms. Hearst!" he exclaimed as if he'd known her ages ago, like one might shout at old acquaintances seen at a reunions. Marla's smile didn't change, and Faye's grew wider, for both had seen something like this coming and I'll admit I'd seen it too. "I'm afraid Barbara just hasn't gotten the swing of things around here—terribly sorry for the mix up—I'll take you to see Mr. Byres immediately," he turned to the perverted-looking fellow he'd been conversing with. "Gill, could you remind Barbara about our company policy?"
We were ushered into an elevator, but before the doors closed I heard the start of that other man's speech to the confused receptionist. A speech that began with a line I heard often when I went places with Marla: "Don't you know who that woman is?!"
~~~
While we walked down the hall to Byres's office, I couldn't help but lean over to Faye and ask, "So who is this guy, anyway?"
Faye looked over to that man who was escorting us, a Mr. Something-that-begins-with-a-K, who was rambling on about the history of the company. "Him? He's probably some lower Syndicate agent they stick out for PR."
"No," I whispered back, hoping Mr. K couldn't talk and eavesdrop at the same time. "This Byres guy, what is he, the leader of the Serpent Circle or something?"
Faye's face grew serious in a flash, but she shook her head. "Doubt it. I don't think even Marla can just barge in and get audience with a Syndicate leader."
I was honestly surprised by this statement, and I probably looked it for Faye went on, catching my arm and forcing my pace to slow with hers.
"Syndicate leaders are the type of men you don't just see," she told me. Her eyes were forceful, as if she found it very important that I understood what she had to say. "If they want you, they'll find you. They'll ~get~ you. It's that simple, and for them, it's that easy."
I didn't like that look in her eyes. There was something on fire beneath the pupils, burning enough to make me return to my original topic for mere want of a subject change. "So who's Byres then?" I asked.
Faye shrugged, and to my relief turned away from me to face foreword again and return her normal pace. "He's obviously got some power in the Circle, so he could be part of the leader's team—you know, somebody he trusts to run things."
"Ah," I said, and nodded. What else could I say or do?
When we met Byres, he was just coming out of his office. He was around Faye's height, blond, and with a face swollen from all the fake smiling he had to put himself though. I could tell he hadn't been trained to be a businessman, just from that odd off-green suit he wore. He looked to be the type who used to work out, and my best guess was that his job used to be more physical before the change of power when the Red Dragons broke.
He looked annoyed to see unplanned visitors, and our guide had to introduce us quickly before he might try and shoo Marla away.
"This is Ms. Gatsby, Ms. Chen, and," I watched K catch Byres's eye, "Of course you know Ms. Marla Hearst from Trimalchio." Mr. Byres's face changed all at once and we were invited into his office with all sorts of pleasantness.
The first sign of danger happened here, but I didn't realize it at the time. Marla walked in first, and sat primly on the black leather sofa, helping herself to the coffee on the table. I followed close behind and made for the seat next to my boss, turning my head to look back as I sat down.
I saw Faye stalk coolly through the door-- eyes nearly all the way closed, cigarette dangling from her lips, hands relaxed against her hips, and wearing a supermodel type 'let's get this over with' kind of expression.
And Byres was staring at her.
It was only for a moment, but it wasn't the kind of stare men usually give woman like Faye. This stare wasn't perverse or admiring, this stare glinted with hateful recognition. Byres's eyes widened as she passed by, as if she'd done something to surprise him, and then his eyebrows furrowed and he squinted, glaring coldly.
By the time Marla said, "I'm glad I could reach you," the expression was gone—replaced by the face of a businessman. I merely pegged him for a woman hater and pushed the look to the back of my mind.
Mr. Byres walked over to the chair across from my boss, his cane tapping along with each stride. I noticed the slight limp he had, meaning that he needed the cane and it wasn't just some ridiculous show for a wannabe tycoon.
"This is certainly unexpected," he said, taking his seat. "But not unwelcome. Our Tharsis office as well as our Ganymede branch have hoped to get into the Trimalchio market for a long time since you run it so smoothly—I can assume, of course, that this is a business visit?"
Marla's smile widened, but it kept its cool confidence. Sly. She had a whole deck of trump cards to pull and she'd bring them out of her sleeve one by one. Like Faye used to tell me: 'They can't say you're cheating when you're making up the rules'.
"Of course it's business," she assured him. "I would never just pop in to visit someone I never met before." That was a lie, but I don't think she realized it.
"But before we get into all this negotiating crap—mind if I take off my jacket? Thanks—I was just hoping to have a little chat with you."
I saw what she was doing, and I noticed Faye shift in her chair as she saw it as well. My boss had just started to take control. And now the jacket was coming off—the long coat which had hidden that conspicuous sword we all came here regarding.
"A chat?" Byres repeated, holding his grin but anyone could tell he suspected her of something. "What about?"
"Oh…the weather," Marla lifted the sheath's strap over her head, bringing Byres's attention to the katana. "Sports…" she stood up, and in one fluid motion unsheathed the gleaming blade and thrust it into the coffee table. "And a mutual friend of ours."
We all caught that flash of shock, and possibly panic, in the Syndicate businessman's face in those few seconds it took the splinters from the ruined table to settle. And then he was composed again as he looked up at Marla. I recognized the look: he was trying to guess her game plan, which nobody has ever done for the reason I believe to be that she makes it up on the spot.
My boss leaned on the sword's hilt, smiling her smile and meeting Byres eye for eye. I had drawn back from her, for although I'd expected some kind of show from her I hadn't expected this. Faye too looked caught off guard. She'd stood up as soon as the blade was exposed, and her hand thrust into her pocket where her gun lay. Byres's bodyguards had drawn their pistols already; they stood awaiting a reason to shoot. At the time this was the most danger I'd ever been in, and I was terrified. Now I laugh at the woman I was, for I saw so much worse after I walked out of that office.
Byres and Marla appeared to be having a staring contest. I'm sure neither blinked. It reminded me of an old western or samurai flick, where the opponents just stare for minutes on end, seizing each other up.
I wondered if he would believe she actually knew the sword's former owner—obviously she knew the weapon carried some weight, and now she was testing how much. In the silence, I waited for Byres to call her bluff and ask her to prove that they shared a 'mutual friend' they could relate to that katana.
But when Mr. Byres finally did speak, it was only to ask in a voice smoothly stating his wish to talk with Ms. Hearst in private.
Faye, who had yet to sit down and remove her hand from her concealed weapon, sent Marla a warning frown, but my boss paid no attention to the disapproval and instead turned to me. "That's no problem; you guys can get some lunch, just be back in an hour or so."
Stupefied and numb, all I could really say was: "Sure, what do you want?"
"I'm thinking Thai food. Something spicy."
And with those instructions, Faye and I left Marla with the Syndicate man, armed with a bloody katana many times more threatening than even her influence.
~~
Faye waited until we got to the car to start screaming. She then waited until the car rounded the corner before adding angry, animated gestures to her rant. Luckily she sat on the passenger side, else we might have crashed for all she really cared about her surroundings.
"I DON'T BELIEVE THAT FUCKING IDIOT!"
"Uh-huh," was all I could say. There'd been an accident on the road we were driving down and I had to concentrate on not hitting the cop redirecting traffic or the tow truck right next to him.
My lack of attention didn't seem to bother Faye. I remember her as the type who'd probably, it seemed to me, yell about what bothered her even if there was nobody there to listen, and I had a feeling that my being there as a sounding board only made her want to vent more.
"Has she ever done something like this before?" she asked me.
"What, like taking control of meetings in scary, weird ways? Sure, often."
"I mean on this level…"
"The Syndicate level?"
"Yeah."
I pursed my lips, running all the odd scenarios my boss had created through my mind. "Nothing on this level, no," I finally answered. "But all her ideas that seem crazy at the time either end up doing no harm at all or making her a few millions, so don't worry about it."
I tried to reassure Faye that it would all end up all right. To tell you the truth, I'd been scared that she'd leave. She wasn't the first woman Marla had picked up off some random place to befriend and drag around in our odd little posse. She wasn't the first, and I'm sure she won't be the last. All the others had run off in fear of the crazy schemes my boss would come up with and what trouble they might bring.
Frankly, I was lonely, and Faye seemed to be the most resilient of Marla's alternating favorites so I'd hoped she would stick around for a while.
"She doesn't know what she got herself into…" Faye was murmuring, almost if not probably more to herself than to me. "Has to pretend that she knew that man…that she was friends with him…nobody's going to believe her, she'll get herself killed and probably me too."
Meanwhile, I'd spotted a Thai place out of the corner of my eye. "Friends with who?" I asked offhandedly. I actually hadn't been that curious, just making conversation and all. It hadn't struck me then that Faye knew more than she was letting on, but by the time I found out it was well too late. "That sword guy Marla's pretending to know? Don't sweat it, she's a good faker—do you even like Thai food? Personally I'm getting pizza at that place next door--" but when I opened the car door to step out, Faye suddenly grabbed my arm and pulled me back.
"You don't get it do you?" she asked me seriously. I'm not used to being asked serious questions, since the person I interact most with is my boss, and this vague inquiry threw me off more than slightly.
"What?" I asked, feeling it would be best to play innocent. I thought: maybe she'll let me go if I act stupid; I don't want to deal with whatever is making her look so troubled.
But I was worried. Faye had far more life experience than I did, and she obviously sensed some danger in Marla's haphazard antics, and so I was worried.
Her grip on my arm tightened. "The Circle—Fuck, ~any~ Syndicate, just pick one! It's too dangerous to get involved in, especially voluntarily."
I didn't know what to say to her. "I-I'm sure it'll be all right," I rambled. "I mean, Marla's rich and all so if worse comes to worse she can bribe them to leave us alone."
Faye's mouth opened and closed, eyes squinted open and shut, and she removed her hand from my arm only to slap her forehead with it in frustration. "Never mind," she breathed, drained now of her normal enthusiasm. She opened the door and stepped out of the car. "I need some air," was the only explanation she gave me when she began to stride quickly down the sidewalk.
"Want me to order you anything?" I called out to her, jutting a thumb at the restaurants I stood in front of.
"Surprise me," she shouted back, and rounded the corner out of sight.
~~
I ordered the food and asked to have it ready in a half hour, figuring in meantime I could track down Faye and we could eat before having to go back to pick up Marla. However, the finding Faye portion of my plan was easier said than done.
I turned the corner that she'd turned and saw no sign of her. I'd assumed she'd been to Tharsis before (who hasn't?) and probably had some goal in mind as to where she wanted to end up. So I did that thing that people do when they're looking for someone or something and I asked myself, "If I were Faye, where would I go?"
Of course, I didn't know the answer to that. I didn't know Faye very well at all. I knew that her past must have been a horribly interesting one, which was why I didn't ask about it, especially after her comments about "dying twice" and things like that. I knew she liked gambling, and I knew she liked to drink. That was the extent of my knowledge of Faye Valentine/Gatsby at that time.
And based on that, the very last place I expected to see her was at church.
It's not how it sounds.
I was walking towards a karaoke bar, not sure if that was Faye's thing or not but noticing its large 'liquor' sign, and on the way I passed the most decrepit building I'd ever laid my eyes on. (It's actually quite a sight. I recommend taking a look next time you're in the area, it's on the corner of Broadway and Maine, East Tharsis.)
It was a chapel, or more likely the remains of one. The spire of a belfry—built for show, because no church uses actual bells anymore—and a roofless group of walls were all that remained of what was probably once a very nice gothic-style cathedral.
I'd stopped short on the street in front of it, merely to admire the sheer eeriness that was the building. The church ruins looked grey and dead, as if God had never blessed the place even in its prime, and yet the mere sight of the shattered and half-shattered stained glass drew me in to look closer at the only spots of color left on that piece of property.
I'd rounded to the back of the chapel before I'd even become aware of myself. My neck had been crammed back the whole time I'd been walking, staring up and trying to see if anything still lay in that tower. When I finally brought my eyes back to earth, I realized I'd wondered into the graveyard behind the building.
The cemetery looked in far better shape than the cathedral. I guessed the local disenfranchised buried their dead in this place, to judge by the number of newer wooden cross-set stakes compared to the older, and few newer, marble tombstones.
It was rather sad—and I mean sadder than a graveyard usually is.
I turned right, then spun left, making a complete rotation before I really got my bearings and even then was only half sure which way the street was from there. I'd just been about to pick a random direction and hope it lead me back to where I was, when I saw Faye.
I remember her as a black spot against the decaying brown of the graveyard. She was crouched low while balancing on her heels, her long dark coat in folds around her knees. She sat in that position very still and quiet, her eyes perfectly level with name etched into the headstone she faced.
Finally, with a slight shake of her head, she stood up and brushed herself off. That was when I chose to approach her.
"Faye!" I called, probably a little too loudly for a place where one should be reverent.
Her head shot up as if I'd surprised her, but she showed little reaction other than that.
"I didn't expect to see you here," I noted cheerily as possible, considering the setting, and jogged up to where she stood silently watching me, expressionless.
I suddenly felt very aware of how tactless I must have seemed. I mean, you don't just run up, shouting to people in a cemetery of all places. Afraid that Marla had rubbed off on me too much, I attempted a hurried apology.
"I-I'm sorry," I slurred the words together in a rush. "I didn't mean to interrupt you if while you were paying respects or—"
"I was looking for someone."
It's hard to describe it, the way Faye was when she said that sentence. Her face set still quietly stern, but with little expression and no emotion, not even in those green eyes of hers that were usually on fire. Her voice was quiet too, and very…I suppose nostalgic is the only word.
"Oh, you couldn't find the right grave?" I asked, taking her meaning incorrectly. "Want me to help you look?"
She looked over at me and gave an attempt at a small smile. Then she took a step foreword and pointed at one of the headstones. "Mao Yenrai," she said, reading off the name.
"Friend of yours?" I asked, but she shook her head.
"I was at his funeral....in a manner of speaking…" she replied quietly. Then, louder and facing me she asked, "Do you know who he was?"
This I was the one to shake my head.
"He used to be the leader of the Red Dragon Syndicate."
I was only minorly surprised by this news, for at the time Syndicates still meant so little to me. But nevertheless, my eyes strayed to the dates of his birth and death, and although he hadn't been young, I noticed that he hadn't been old enough to have died a natural death.
I began to shift from one foot to the other uncomfortably, as Faye took a few more steps.
She walked up to the tombstone next to Mao's, a lovely polished piece of granite, and tapped the top with a creamy white finger. "He should be right here," she said to the air. "Next to her."
"The person you're looking for?"
She nodded.
I moved so I was behind Faye to see what she saw. The headstone she tapped belonged to a woman I never learned enough about to satisfy me. I heard her mentioned many times, and she seemed so interesting a topic for all the events she apparently effected, but she's not the type of person you just bring up in a conversation. She the type you're not supposed to talk about, but want to. The name was kind of taboo, as if it would set off a bomb when uttered—you had to whisper it, and never say it in a hateful tone.
But I didn't know that at the time. At the time, it was just a name to me. The name of a woman I'd never met but whose life—or more likely the aftermath of her life and death--would soon effect my own even while she lay in her coffin.
"Julia Buchanan?" I read aloud. "Was she in the Red Dragons too?" I looked at the dates of her birth and death. She'd died far too young.
Faye shrugged. "I don't know who she was exactly…" she tapped the headstone again, and then moved away from it as if she'd done something to be ashamed of.
"He should be right here," she repeated softly. It was then that I noticed there was a large space, an empty plot, between Julia and Mao. "Next to her."
"Maybe you're remembering it wrong," I offered.
Faye shook her head quickly, dismissing me. "I haven't been here before."
"Then how do you know…" I allowed myself to trail off there, knowing that it didn't matter if I finished the thought or not. Faye was trapped inside herself for the time being. She allowed her voice to travel in my direction, probably so she wouldn't feel crazy for talking to herself, but in truth her eyes saw only the dry earth under which a coffin should but didn't lie.
She focused on that empty spot where a grave marker should be, and that fire began to return to her eyes. It glowed like a spark might; a spark with ambition, but a spark nonetheless. Sorrow, anger, that nostalgia—the emotions showed, but just barely, for she tried so hard to look indifferent and mostly succeeded.
"If he's not here…" Faye spoke again. "Then I don't know where to find him." There was a pause. "Unless he didn't…" she trailed off and I watched her fists clench until the knuckles turned white.
"Bastard," she suddenly hissed so quietly that I barely heard it. "Just like you to disappear. Fine. Hide in the ground; I don't care where you're really lying, here is where I say goodbye." I'm sure I hadn't been meant to hear that, but hear it I did, and I thought of if constantly after meeting Spike Spiegel.
Then she turned on her heel, back to the empty plot and stalked off in a quick walk. She grabbed my arm as she passed me and I could barely keep up with her steps. I felt like a child being led off by an overstressed soccer mom, and it probably looked rather embarrassing, but at the time I didn't mind being led off like that for all I really wanted was to get out of that cemetery.
~~
When we reached the main road, headed in the direction of the Thai restaurant and pizzeria, my comm. rang. It was Marla, and she once again sounded extremely excited although I'd assumed it was for some unjustifiable reason.
"Viv! Faye!" she called, her face tiny on the vidscreen. I said hi and Faye leaned over my shoulder and into the camera's view. My boss had a wide, 'I told you so' kind of smile that I didn't like but felt curious about.
"I did it!" proclaimed Marla Hearst. "I got the name—oh and you'll never guess all I've found out!"
"What did you find out?" I asked to humor her. Obviously her meeting was over, and I still had to get the food. I'd figured that if I could keep her talking long enough, hopefully she wouldn't rush me about getting lunch. Okay and I'll admit it. I was a little curious too.
"Well first off, that sword. I found out who it belonged to."
"Good for you," grumbled Faye with no enthusiasm whatsoever.
"Vicious!" Marla cried, and I told her not to call people names. "No, I wasn't saying Faye's vicious—that's the guy's name! The katana fellow; and did you know? He was the guy—THE guy who did that final takeover of the Red Dragons before the slayer killed him!"
She sounded so excited, and I'll admit it was an interesting bit of news that would come in handy later, but at the time all I was really wondering was why a mother would name their child Vicious. Then of course I figured a parent wouldn't do that and I began to wonder how bad a name had to be to want to change it to Vicious.
They were all very unimportant thoughts I won't go any further describing.
"How'd you get this information?" Faye asked, interrupting Marla's gushing over her precious sword and my idiot private musings.
My boss waved her hand nonchalantly. "Just some insider trading, bond selling and all, no biggie," she explained. "Standard Oil wanted some shares in that Tritanium mill I bought last year, so I shifted some stuff around for them. Byres was very agreeable once I brought out the credit card."
"Were you able to keep up the ruse?" Faye demanded. "Does he still believe you and Vicious were 'mutual friends', or whatever?"
"Sure, sure," my boss returned with the same hand wave as before. "I got him to believe that I was making business deals with Vicious before the Dragons split, and that all I wanted was to finish out the agreement. Safe as pie, you didn't have to worry about a little white lie—oops, that shouldn't have rhymed, probably sounded corny." And with that, she began to giggle at her own expense. But then she stopped, and that overly proud smile returned.
"And you know what else I got?" Marla asked us in that way that meant we weren't really supposed to guess. "I got the slayer's name: Spike Spiegel."
Faye's bottom lip disappeared under her top row of teeth for a moment as she made a miffed sort of noise. "Spike Spiegel," she reiterated. "And who is he?"
My boss frowned, "The DRAGONSLAYER, I just said so!" she huffed, but the smile came back in a mere fraction of a second. "I haven't had time to do much checking yet, but this dude is famous in the more notorious circles. On our neck of the woods however, he was a Cowboy."
"A bounty hunter?" I asked, because even though I don't think there are actual cowboys left you can never really be sure.
"Yeah, bounty hunter," Marla confirmed. "Anyway, we find him, we find answers."
Faye and I exchanged glances. "What are the questions?" we asked at once.
Hearst blinked a couple times, surprised we all weren't thinking on the same wavelength. "Why, I want do know about the battle of course!" she held up the katana so Faye and I could see it on the little screen. "I still have to check the DNA database and see if the bloodstain's actually this Spiegel's—I mean, for all we know Vicious coulda just gone around hitting people randomly, but I'm hoping it's something more interesting."
One of Faye's eyebrows twitched dramatically, and she continued to frown in such a way that her failing attempt at composure was obvious and rather funny.
"More interesting?" she repeated. "How's that?"
"Well—a duel of course!" Marla announced as if it were obvious.
It didn't look good for Faye's self control, so I took the next 'question you'll regret asking later'. And that question was: "What makes you think there as a duel?"
Marla was sheathing the sword again. It was out of view of the screen but I could hear its awful metallic ring. "Well how does one person—ONE person—bring down a crime ring? I mean, there were probably a lot of people he had to take down, why would he do that all by himself?"
"Maybe he was stupid," Faye offered in a bitter voice.
"Well fine, maybe Spiegel was stupid, but I've got other theories." She didn't wait for me to ask, she just kept talking. "Such as this: I think that Vicious was very important in keeping the Red Dragons together, I mean, why else would they split after he died? So I'm thinking that this Spike person, if he really wants to take down the Red Dragons and he doesn't have any backup—"
"What if he didn't want backup?" Faye interrupted. "Men can be stubborn asses, you know."
Marla let out a laugh. "Too true!" she cried. "But there's a fine line between stubborn and suicidal."
"A ~very~ fine line," Faye muttered, but my boss didn't hear.
"So my theory is that if he's got as much brains as a dog he at least knows he can't take down the whole organization by himself—so he goes for the guy in charge," Marla finally wound down her explanation. "You know, like a duel to the death."
Faye rolled her eyes and sent me a look.
"But didn't the Dragon slayer die too?" I reminded my boss. "I mean, it can happen, but both people usually don't die in a duel."
Marla shrugged. "The Gold Serpent Circle seems to think Spiegel is alive," she said matter-o-factly. "They're looking for him."
I looked up at Faye, but she rather scared me right then so I turned back to my boss and asked, "If a Syndicate can't find the guy who must be on the top of their most wanted list, what makes you think you can?"
Smiling her businesswoman smile, Marla said, "I've got a plan," and I distinctly remember thinking: Aw shit.
But she did have a plan. A good plan—well, good in the fact that it was effective, but horrible in the way that if backfired. Marla may have wanted to find out more about Spike Spiegel, but I had had no interest. Still, whether I wanted to or not, in less than an hour from the time my boss hung up I would meet the man that ultimately sent Faye and I from hell to heaven and back to earth completely lost.
Not all the pieces of the puzzle that was Spike, Faye, the Syndicates and the Bebop fit together at once for I never, until the end, had all the pieces in my hands. Still, our adventure began there, on that street corner in front of the chapel ruins.
A large, black car rounded the corner with a screech and before I'd seen a thing Faye grabbed my arm and pulled me down. Before the word "Duck!" was out of her lips, a round of bullets flew over where our heads had been.
And with that, I was shoved out of my world and forced into the world that Faye and Spike begrudgedly called home.
~~
Gah, this chapter was so…political… and LONG dammit—sorry bout that, it had to be what it had to be. I looked for stuff to cut out, but what wasn't important to the plot was important to the characterization, and what wasn't important to the characterization was something hopefully amusing enough to help people bare with the political stuff. It's a vicious circle you see, no CB character pun intended.
It so happens to be a problem of mine that I can't bring myself to say "and one thing led to another and they ended up at [insert setting here]" I just can't do that! I have to go for the how and the why and I know it takes up more pages but it would have very much bothered me if they'd gotten Spike's name from a random person who just happens to be there or something so easy.
This chapter was pretty much about plot presentation, but I made sure to ad character development scenes. I want this story to be more emotionally directed, but I want there to be a plot as well because a persons actions are relative to their situation, and I plan on writing in some interesting (hopefully) situations. So bare with me on a boring chapter like this, you'll see later on that it was necessary.
On a higher note, SPIKE IS IN THE NEXT CHAPTER-YAY!! All the cast is gonna show up eventually, but Spike comes first of course. And on more good news, once Spike shows up I can finally fading Marla back into the role of secondary character (she's important to the plot line and all, but nobody really cares—a lot of people hate her actually)
IF YOU WERE CONFUSED ABOUT THIS CHAPTER
Ok so the ending to this chapter was a little cryptic on some level I suppose. Remember, all of these events have already happened and Vivika is just recounting them. I wrote a longer notice about this at the top. Basically at the end of this chapter a car rounded the corner and somebody started shooting at Vivika and Faye.
Anywho, this author's note has gone on for WAY too long so I'll leave you alone and please review!