Chapter Fourteen
Takeki had snuck out of his hospital room. The way he saw it, the hole in his back only hurt. Now that it had stopped bleeding he should be allowed out of his bed. The doctors, however, had been against it. For reasons they didn't entirely explain he was to remain in his room until they said otherwise. Takeki was fine with staying in the hospital, but he needed to see Awaki.
A pair of men dressed in suits was standing just inside the unit's door when he arrived. He was going to address them but was stopped by their conversation.
"We may as well clone her, too."
"Already done."
The statement blew Takeki's mind. He pressed his back to the wall and listened, hoping to understand what they were saying
"Really? When did you get her map?"
"The first day she got in. I figured that if she didn't recover from the surgery we could just replace her with the clone and no one would be the wiser."
"I don't know, wouldn't the family realize it?"
"She's had a hell of a time. Who's to say that she might not be the same afterwards?"
"I guess you're right. How long until the clone finishes development?"
"She'll be out of the tank by Friday."
There was some silence before the first man spoke back up. "So why don't we switch them anyway?"
"What?"
"Well, why can't we just replace her now? If the clones turn out to be just as good as the originals she would be a great asset. This girl is going into the Level 5 program. Depending on how powerful she becomes she could even become part of the Mayday project. Think about it. If she was blindly loyal to us we could use her to infiltrate it. She would tell us everything that they are doing, all their secrets. Heck, why should it stop there? With her power she could sneak into any high-security facility in the underground. The Railgun's power may be ideal for producing soldiers, but we could make great spies out of this one's DNA."
"Then what do we do with the original?"
The first man didn't respond immediately. Even though Takeki couldn't see his face he could tell that the man was smiling. "We junk her. If she can't become a Level 5 she's nothing but trash anyway."
(***)
Takeki had himself curled up in the corner of his hospital room. He was still shaking. His heart had been frozen by the apathy in the man's voice. Takeki had always been an empathetic person and could understand people easily. He was rattled by the complete lack of concern the man had for peoples' lives. With his natural insight he implicitly knew that the man wasn't putting on a front; that person's soul was the coldest and most uncaring Takeki had ever felt. It was frightening.
While Takeki was lost in his chaotic thoughts the door slid open. From outside Takeki's sight the visitor gave a surprised grunt. Footsteps followed and a wide, homely face appeared above the bed.
"Oh dear," the frog-faced doctor sighed. He walked around the bed and knelt down before Takeki. "I thought you were holding up alright," he mumbled as if he didn't expect an answer. As he spoke his hands began a rote examination of Takeki's head checking for a concussion, any new bumps, or a fever- anything that would explain the boy's behavior. "What happened to you?"
Takeki stared at the man as he worked. It was the doctor. The doctor that had saved his sister from certain death. The doctor that could save her again…
"Sensei!" Takeki blurted out, tears coming to his eyes. The outburst startled the doctor and sent him falling backwards onto his rear. "Please! You have to save her, Sensei!" Takeki prostrated himself on the floor and clutched pitifully at the doctor's pants.
"Calm down, Takeki-kun!" The doctor reached forward and grabbed the boy's shoulders to raise him off the ground. "I've already saved your sister! She's all right!"
"That's not it, Sensei! That man! He's going to kill her!"
"Takeki-kun, you need to calm down! The boy that attacked you was taken away! He can't hurt you or your sister anymore!"
"Not him! There was another man! In her room just now!"
"My god, you must be delirious. Come, let's go down to the neurology ward so we can run some tests." Heaven Canceller picked the boy up, a deep pity filling his face, and started walking him towards the door.
"Sensei! I'm not crazy! I saw them! There were two of them and the one said he was going to-!"
"Takeki-kun!" the doctor snapped. Takeki shut up instantly. "I have not cleared any visitors to your sister's room! No one aside from the nurse I assigned is allowed into that room!" Heaven Canceller closed his eyes and took a breath. "Therefore," he said gently, "you are clearly mistaken."
Takeki was thoroughly stunned. He didn't resist as the doctor escorted him, and didn't rebuke him when the doctor mused again, "I wonder what could have caused this."
(***)
Takeki lay in his hospital bed hours later. It was hard for him to think. That was, of course, because he wasn't supposed to be thinking. He was supposed to be recuperating. That was why they medicated him.
Takeki gave a little laugh.
They were stopping him from thinking because he had been right. For some reason that seemed funny to him. He was being wronged by wrong people because he was right and they were wrong.
Hilarious.
None of their scanners had picked up anything. None of their precious machines could pinpoint a fault with him. Even the few bumps on his head from that day had gone away. And so they had decided that it was because he had gotten out of bed.
Wasn't that funny?
Takeki wasn't entirely sure why, but that was definitely funny. They thought that simply getting out of bed had made him crazy. Didn't they get out of bed this morning? Well then, they must be crazy, too!
So Takeki would never leave his bed again. He didn't want to be crazy, after all. He would just lie there forever and laugh at the crazy people that had made the mistake of getting out of bed!
Takeki was already laughing. But, he realized, there was nobody there. How could he be laughing at crazy people if there wasn't anyone but himself in the room? Since the only person he could be laughing at was himself that meant that he must be crazy. And if he was already crazy then there was no point in staying in bed.
He got out of bed and staggered over to the window. Barely able to keep his balance, he leaned all his weight on the sill and let his head slump limply against the window. With his left cheek and eyebrow smushed against the pane he could only see from his right eye. The clouds looked like mashed potatoes. The black sky was obviously gravy. Well, it might be blueberry gravy because it was a little blue. That was pretty cool: blueberry gravy.
His eye drifted down towards the parking lot. Since he couldn't see it that well he drunkenly rolled his weight onto his forehead so that he was square with frame. He kicked his right leg way out to stop himself from falling over. He tried looking down again and found that he had to push himself back up with his arms so that he could face his head down and tripod himself up with the top of it.
The lights in the parking lot were bright. They were a lot brighter than candles. That electricity would be brighter than fire was weird. Because fire lasts a lot longer than lightning.
…
Takeki jerked away from the window. His mind was suddenly as focused as a laser. In the parking lot were the two men he had seen in his sister's room. They were leaning against a pickup truck smoking cigarettes.
He twirled from the window and started running. He didn't make it past his bed before he got unbearably dizzy and flailed to the ground. He wheezed from the impact and tried to get up. The dizziness took his arms out before he could even get his feet under him. He flopped to his side as if he had been shoved and started heaving. He wrapped his arms around his stomach and whimpered from the flood of sensory input. He felt like he was flipping and spinning on some out-of-control amusement park ride and his abdominal muscles were burning and slowly turned sore from throwing up.
He wasn't sure how long he had been on the ground when his mind cleared and he stopped throwing up. It took him another handful of moments to remember what it was he had been doing before his mind and body had taken a joyride through hell. He slowly got back to his feet and sat on the bed, taking deep breaths to clear everything up. As he finished recomposing himself it occurred to him that the two men wouldn't be waiting in the parking lot forever. Thus motivated he got to his feet.
His legs and arms felt completely fatigued. He could move them, but they felt like jello and he questioned if he could even run if he wanted to. Meanwhile, every breath drew attention to his sore diaphragm. Had he looked in the mirror he would have seen that the blood vessels around his eyes had burst from vomiting so vehemently, giving him rings around his eyes like some kind of undead raccoon.
But, despite how much of a mess he was, he had a mission. He had to do everything in his power to protect his sister. It was obvious that the doctor wouldn't do anything. Not that he could have done much, given how easily the men had let themselves into Awaki's room despite the doctor's prohibition. Furthermore, because of his run in with the doctor earlier he probably wouldn't be able to convince Antiskill either. If they contacted the hospital they would find out Takeki had been diagnosed with temporary dementia.
Takeki ran down the hallway. He didn't feel confident in his strides, but he was making good time and keeping his balance nonetheless. He blew by an- thankfully- empty nurses' station. The elevator would have probably taken the same amount of time as the stairs, but Takeki was afraid to stop moving. He wasn't sure if he would be able to start moving again if he stopped. If the adrenaline stopped flowing he wasn't even sure that he could stay awake. So he took the stairs, nearly broking his neck a few times on his way down but he still managed to make it to the bottom.
He threw open the door at the bottom and heard a muffled cry as it struck someone. Turning quickly he saw a male nurse trying to stem the flow of blood from his nose. Takeki panicked and threw his whole body at the man. With his hands preoccupied, the nurse had no chance to stop himself from hitting the wall. His head gave an audible thud as it bounced off the wall and the nurse slumped unconscious to the ground. Takeki stared in disbelief at what he had just done. He trembled. The back of his head started itching as he imagined just how much the blow must have hurt.
He had never wanted to hurt anyone. Yet he had just done so. It wasn't even someone who had deserved it. It wasn't even in self defense. He had just knocked out some poor nurse, someone who devoted their life to helping other people. He had broken his nose and, as if that hadn't been enough, bounced the man's head against the wall.
Takeki horrified himself. So he ran.
He ran as quickly as he could. He kept his head down and squeezed tears from his eyes.
He soon found himself at a faculty entrance. Without a second thought he stole a black jacket from the coat rack and put it on. He opened the door slowly, searching the area for anyone that would stop him. There was no such person. He left the asylum and stepped out into the black streets of Academy City.
He moved as swiftly and as silently as he could to the corner of the building and peeked around it. A blue Lamborghini was parked next to the truck. The suited men smiled and waved goodbye, whatever words they used were lost upon the wind. The Lamborghini revved and pulled away and the two men got into the pickup.
Takeki didn't bother thinking about what he was doing. He simply ran as fast as he could. The windows were up on the truck and music was playing, blocking out any noise he was making. The men were too busy talking to each other to notice Takeki running up behind them. As Takeki got to the back gate the driver put the automobile into drive. He pulled his slim body into the bed as the truck rolled forward. He thought he saw the driver check his rearview mirror but he evidently didn't see Takeki scrambling towards the cab. Takeki wormed his way under a dirty tarp in the corner next to the toolbox.
As he caught his breath his fatigue caught him. He drifted into dark dreams and was dead to the world around him.
(***)
Takeki awoke to the pattering of raindrops. They splashed of off the tarp and sprinkled his eyes. Hoping the rain would mask any noise he made as he escaped from the heavy plastic he wormed his way to the surface. The world was dim but not dark, signifying that it was still day behind the clouds. Peeking over the edge of the bed he found himself alone in an asphalt lot.
His stomach was killing him and he had a headache, but he was pleased to find that strength had returned to his limbs. He stood in the bed and stretched his cramped joints, taking in the surroundings.
He was deep in the city. While the parking lot was large, it was bordered on all sides by the blank, gray backs of buildings. None of the buildings around him had windows, probably because they weren't necessary for the kind of work that went on in them. They were all worn and dirty and the concrete was cracked in places. The only building that opened towards the lot was on his left. The entrance was wide and sunken below ground level, as if it had originally been an underground tunnel that had been expanded into a tower after the fact.
This world didn't look anything like the Academy City he knew. It wasn't brimming with hope and there wasn't any hint of the technical advances the city was famous for. Even if the buildings in the city were packed close together, the streets and sidewalks were wide and bright to prevent any feeling of enclosure. There were parks and trees, bright televisions and music everywhere. The silence in this place was unreal, unnatural. Slowly a comparison dawned on Takeki; this place was like a prison. All rough concrete, sharp angles, and dull colors. As that soaked into him he slowly sat down onto the tarp.
What was he going to do? He had stowed away impulsively under the influence of the medication. He didn't know where he was. He didn't have a plan. He wasn't even sure where to start.
"We junk her. If she can't become a Level 5 she's nothing but trash anyway."
The words filled Takeki's head. Anger flushed his face and his ears started burning. He clenched his fists until they hurt and his body shook as if the rage was trying to break through his skin.
He wouldn't allow that. He couldn't allow it. Even if his body died his spirit would become a ghost and continue fighting. He would continue protecting his sister until they obliterated his entire existence. So long as he existed he would stand against them.
He opened the toolbox next to him. He fished around in it for several minutes, his higher consciousness not sure why. His hands grabbed at a hammer which he discarded immediately, something about being poorly balanced drifting from his lips. A crowbar was the next thing he picked up before muttering that it lacked weight. He rooted through the chest for a couple more minutes and suddenly sat up, his back arched as if he was trying to keep his distance from whatever was inside.
He took a few, slow breathes before gingerly bending forward and retrieving a large monkey wrench. Its weight was heavy in his hands, much heavier than it looked. The weight he felt was the weight of lives. As his grip tightened around the handle his intellect understood why he had been looking in the toolbox: he was searching for a weapon.
Somewhere in his heart was a dark shadow that he had never seen. It had been obscured by his devotion to his sister, by his willingness to stand up to other people, and his sense of justice. Those were all excuses, the shadow told him. He had a black spot on his soul that made him want to fight. With his sister's backing at school he never had the chance. Now he would fight.
Or maybe it was the drugs still affecting him, his brain argued. Just the previous night he had sickened himself when he injured the nurse. Didn't that prove that he was a passive, empathetic person? That he thought violence abhorrent?
And maybe the drugs would be affecting him in the future, the dark spot grinned. If that was so, then it would have an excuse to hurt people. Takeki wouldn't have to feel bad about it. It wasn't his fault. He was under the influence of something he couldn't fight. When it was all over he would go to sleep, and when he woke up next he would be back to normal. Takeki could forget about the lives he took today because they were done by someone completely different, by something that didn't normally live in this body.
For his sister's sake, both sides of him could accept that reasoning. He took a screwdriver from the chest and pocketed it, then climbed out of the truck.