A Story of the Starblade Battalion
"It isn't a joke. It never has been."
Episode 2 (2180.05.02)
by Shawn Hagen
Opening Credits - Talking Heads, Life During Wartime version
Jerking and catching, the old elevator took them down below the street level.
Emiko leaned against the back of the cab, staring up at the scratch, faded number markers. Her broken nose was beginning to hurt again, she was tired, scared and her period had started. Given a choice she'd rather be back at school with everything like it had been. And if she were wishing for the impossible...
She and Match had arrived in San Francisco almost two days ago. Since then they had been moving, never in one place for more than an hour. Match told her that he was checking things out, making arrangements; and that was all he told her. Other than giving her the drugs for the pain and the amphetamines that kept her going, she might not have been there as far as he was concerned.
Emiko wondered if he was mad at her.
"Where are we?" Emiko asked, tired of just being pulled around.
"Berkeley People's Zenith," he said to her. "This is where the cosmetic surgeon is," he added, surprising her with the extra information.
"Not much of a location," she said as the elevator jerked again.
"He's not much of a doctor; at least as far as the medical authorities are concerned."
"Pardon?"
"Don't worry. It was nothing important anyway."
"What was..." she asked as the doors opened and Match walked out. She quickly followed after him. The corridor she found herself in was dark and damp. She almost tripped on some pipes that ran along the floor. They were deep in the Zenith, the sort of place most people never came to.
Match stopped and began to bang on part of the wall. At least Emiko thought it was part of the wall. When it suddenly slid back, letting bright light into the corridor she realized once again that not all was what it seemed in the world she had been thrown into.
Match entered with her only a few steps behind. Once she was in she heard the door close.
The room was very bright, mostly light colours, and a lot of light. A short, handsome man sat behind a desk of glass and steel, staring down at the surface.
"Good afternoon Match," the man said without looking up. "Who's your friend?"
"Afternoon Doc. She's a terrorist if you believe the police."
"Who does? What do you need?"
"Give her a different look."
"Well," he said as he finally looked up from his desk, "something of interest."
Emiko stifled a small gasp. The man's eyes were flat black. She did not know why she was surprised, considering his occupation, but she was. Maybe because such modifications were rare in Japan; at least amongst the people she had known.
He stood up and moved around the desk, his flat, black eyes focused on Emiko. It was like a shark was staring at her.
"I have to get her off planet."
"I can do something," he said as he moved towards Emiko. She shivered slightly. "How different do you want her to look?"
"Completely," Match said. "Don't care what you do as long as no one can identify her."
"No." Emiko said. "I don't want to be changed that much. I don't want to be a stranger to my friends and family," Emiko said a moment later, her desire to avoid the change Match just suggested overwhelming the discomfort the doctor had engendered in her.
"Don't be ridiculous," Match told her. "We came here so no one could identify you. You can get it changed back later."
"Haven't I had to go through enough changes?" she countered. "And how likely is it my friends are going to be anywhere I am going anyway."
"Don't worry," the doctor said, interrupting before they could continue their argument. "I know just how to handle this so everyone will be happy."
"Don't screw around here," Match warned the man, looking at him hard.
"I am a professional," he smiled. "I don't screw around, and I am good at this kind of thing."
"Yeah, a professional without a license." Match shook his head. "Here." He removed a data brick from his jacket. "Once you are done get her picture and plug it into this. You got a fabricator that can create all the fake ID as I recall." He held the small brick out. "Your payment is in here as well."
"A sad society when a doctor has to also be a forger," he said, taking the brick. He stared at it for several seconds. Emiko supposed he was interfacing with it to examine the data. "She doesn't look like a Dorris," he said.
"Well make her look like one," Match said. "I'm taking the back exit out of here. I'll be back in about four hours. You can be done by then?"
"We'll be ready," the doctor told him.
"Better be. Stay here," he said to Emiko, then turned and left.
"My name is Andrew Smith," the doctor said after Match was gone.
"Emiko Miya," she said after a moment. "Are you really a doctor?"
"Yes, but I lost my license to practice a few years ago."
"Why?"
"Why do you want to know?"
"You'll be operating on me soon."
"Touché," he laughed. "I had a slight drug problem. I liked selling them too much, the money from selling them really."
"Oh."
"Don't worry. I am a very good cosmetic surgeon. Come along." He turned and walked towards one of the doors in the office. Emiko walked after him.
He led her into a white room. There was a chair in the middle of the room and little else.
"Take a seat," he said as he walked to the far wall. As he ran his hands over the white material drawers began to open out of the wall. Emiko sat down. The chair was well padded and felt more like a bed. She suddenly felt tired.
"Okay, while I do a little cutting, most of the work will be completed by nanotech robots," Andrew explained as he removed several syringes from one of the drawers.
"Will they stay in me?" Emiko asked, her voice quavering slightly. She had sat up, her body tense.
"What?" He turned to face her. "No. Most of them I'll flush out, any that remain will deactivate themselves and be naturally excreted from the body in a few days."
She nodded, relaxing back into the chair.
He walked over to the chair and tapped some of the controls on the arm. A number of holographic screens appeared in the air. "You have no nanoware," he said after a moment.
"No."
"You into some sort of crazy religion?"
"No, I just don't want it."
"Slightly odd. Close your eyes."
Emiko did so. After a moment she heard a low hum and felt bands of heat pass over her face.
"Open them," Andrew said.
Emiko opened her eyes then began to blink as bright lights flashed into them.
"Okay." Andrew did something and the light was gone. In the air above her a 3D holograph of her face formed. "That will do it. Fairly good bone structure by the way. This will be pretty easy."
"Now what?" Emiko shifted in the chair, looking up at her face. It was odd.
"Now I spend an hour programming the nanites to do their job. Are you tired?"
"A little."
"How about I put you out now. The next little while is boring and you don't need to be awake for it."
"What about the changes?"
"You don't have any real say in them."
Emiko frowned, suspected she was pouting, and said, "I guess."
"Relax kid. I'll be fixing that broken nose of yours too. It must hurt. What happened to it?"
"Match broke it."
"Ahh, one if his instant disguises."
"Yeah."
"Well, we'll have that all taken care of in a few hours. Here, put this under your tongue; begin to count backwards from one hundred." He handed her a small tablet.
"I've been taking amphetamines and pain killers," she said as she took the tablet.
"This won't react badly with anything already in your system."
"Oh." She took a deep breath and then put the tablet under her tongue. She mumbled as she counted down; one hundred to ninety three.
"If you could have any eye colour in the world what would it be?" he asked her.
"Ninety two... pardon? Oh." She yawned. "The colour they are now."
"Right." He nodded and smiled.
Emiko continued could backwards, her voice trailed off as she reached eighty three and she slumped into the chair.
"I can do wonders with you," was the last thing she heard as she felt him take her chin in his fingers and turned her head. Then she was out.
"How many fingers am I holding up?" a far away voice asked her.
"Wha.. What?"
"How many fingers?" the voice asked again. It was coming from a blurry shape in front of her.
"Ten." She guessed.
"Try again," the blur said. This time it was less a blur and more of a coherent shape, and she recognized the voice as belonging to Andrew.
"Four," she said. It looked like it was holding up about four fingers.
"Close enough. I'm going to stand you up now. Lean on me."
"Okay," she said. Her head felt as if it was stuffed with cotton, and her mouth felt dry.
With a quick pull Andrew had her out of the chair and on her feet. She fell forward but he caught her.
"You might feel a bit of tenderness around your face for the next few days, where the bones were reshaped, but don't let it worry you. It will go away on its own. Your vision might be blurry for a few hours as well."
Emiko said nothing, just let him direct her out of the room. Shapes were beginning to get a little clearer and she could pick out Andrew's features, his black eyes. He brought her into a new room with a low bed in it. After getting her close he eased her down so she was sitting on the bed then lifted her legs onto it.
"Lie down," he said as he lowered her back to the covers, "and get some rest. I have some forgeries to prepare."
Emiko fell asleep almost instantly.
"What about her friends?" Sam asked.
Emiko Miya's mother, Takako Miya looked at him for several seconds, and then said, "All her friends were from school." She was, Sam thought, an attractive woman, young looking. Probably used nano treatments, but then again so did most of the people above thirty.
"We've talked to them Mrs. Miya," Ryu said bluntly. "Was there anyone else?"
Her husband, Shingo Miya, stood behind her, protectively. He was a slim looking man, short black hair, greying a little. He was not in his uniform, but Sam would have pegged him for a military man even had he not known him to be. He had that look.
"Ota-kun," Takako said after a moment.
"Who?" Sam asked, shifting his attention back to her.
"Takashi Ota," Shingo said. "He was more of a friend of Makoto's, our son. I think Emiko had a slight crush on him. He's a reporter, at the Tokyo Times."
"How could this have happened?" Takako asked suddenly. "She might be a silly, fluff headed girl, but you have to believe me, she is a good girl, really." She looked to Sam and Ryu. "I should have been a better mother." She began to cry and put her hands over her face.
Shingo kept a hand on her shoulder as he stepped around the chair, putting himself between them and her. "Is there anything else you need?"
It was a demand, Sam thought, not a question. They were being dismissed.
"No Miya-san, that is everything we need right now. Thank you," Sam told him. He was not about to confront this man.
"Don't hurt my daughter," Shingo said, and that was a command too.
"We'll try out best," Ryu said as he got to his feet.
"You'll do more than try."
"Dear," Takako said, sounding worried.
Shingo did not back down, he matched gazes with Ryu.
Ryu nodded after a moment. "We'll do our best."
Shingo nodded, short, curt.
"I'm sorry, and thank you for your help." Sam told them. He wanted out of there, worried Ryu might do something stupid.
A few minutes later the two officers were walking towards their car.
"They're not giving a picture of a terrorist," Sam told Ryu.
"Her mother thinks she has done something. Her father is not sure what to think."
"We don't really have that much." Sam stopped by the car. "Her life has been pretty controlled, with school, her schedule. More I learn about this girl the more I think she is just unlucky."
"There is about an average of three hours each week while she was not in class."
Sam shook his head. "She was skipping classes."
"Three hours a week could be used for training."
"She did not leave the school grounds."
"Someone on school grounds then," Ryu said.
"What, you think there is a terrorist training cell in that school?"
"I'm willing to entertain the idea."
"So complete background checks on the staff." Sam actually sighed.
Ryu nodded and opened the car's door.
Sam opened his door and then looked across the car at Ryu. "If you had heard everything about me that we have heard about that girl, would you think I was guilty?"
"Maybe," Ryu said after a moment.
"You know, she might actually be innocent." Sam got into the car. "At least of most of it."
"Why did she run?"
"She was scared."
"Scared people don't run and hide like she has. Professionals run and disappear like that."
"So she had help."
"Why would they help her unless she was one of them?"
It was a good point. He started the car and told it to take them to the Tokyo Times newspaper.
"Ota-san, there are two police officers in your office," one of the office ladies called to him as he walked into the press room.
"Do they have a warrant?" Takashi asked her.
"Not that they showed."
"Must be about all those parking tickets then," he said with a laugh, walking towards his office.
When he opened the door he found two men there, as the office lady had warned him. The Caucasian was seated, a cup of coffee in his hands. The Japanese man was looking through his filing cabinet.
"You won't find anything of interest in there," Takashi said as he came into the room, closing the door behind him. "I keep it there mostly for atmosphere. It's an antique, or so I was told."
The Japanese man had the decency to look a little embarrassed as he closed the cabinet drawer.
Smiling Takashi circled around his desk. "So what can I do for you officers?" he asked as he took a seat behind his desk.
"We'd like to ask you some questions about Miya Emiko-san," the Caucasian one told him.
"You know, it occurs to me you have not introduced yourselves." Takashi put a pen shaped object on the desk. "Mind if I record this."
"Yes," the Japanese one said.
"Unfortunate." He leaned back in his chair.
"I am Sam Colt, Detective in the Tokyo Police."
"Ryu Abe, Detective as well."
"So you want to know about Emiko-chan?"
"We have some questions about her."
"I bet you do. Go for it." He smiled.
"What do you think of her?"
"Cute kid. A little chunky. I don't believe anything that the news or police are saying about her."
"You spent a lot of time with her."
"Not lately. When Makoto-san, her brother, was around I saw her almost daily. She tagged along with us. These days, I would meet her in the morning every few days, say hello. She'd tell me what Makoto was up to, that was about it. Sometimes we went and saw a movie or had dinner."
"Why did you go to movies with her?" Ryu demanded.
"She was kind of cute, in a puppy kind of way," he told them. "And she had a crush on me. I kind of liked having her around at times."
"Did you have any romantic intentions?"
"Romantic? No. Sexual? Probably not. She was my best friend's little sister. Stroked my ego really."
"I see," Sam said. "Do you have any idea where she is now?"
"Checked some of her fiend's houses?"
"Yes."
"Then no. Emiko-chan never struck me at an independent person. She needed someone to look out for her, after her. Her family, her friends."
"Who would look after her now?" Sam shifted forward in his chair. Takashi realized he was trying to keep Ryu from asking any questions. That was interesting.
"Her friends, me, and maybe her brother."
"What about her parents?"
"As bad as this might seem to say, I think Takako-san would be happy to turn her in. She was always a little embarrassed about her. Shingo-san would feel bad, but he would hand her over as well because it would be his duty to do so. He'd then fight to prove she was innocent."
"I see." Sam looked thoughtful before he asked, "You wouldn't be helping her would you?"
"If I was it would not be in my best interests to tell you." Takashi laughed. "But no, I'm not helping her. However, if she came to me for help, I'd give her all that I could. And I would keep it secret."
"Even though the little bitch is a terrorist?" Ryu demanded.
Sam looked as if he wanted the sigh loudly.
"Can you show me some proof?"
Ryu shook his head. "We're done here. We'll have more questions for you later."
"I'll be here," Takashi said.
"Thank you for your time," Sam said as he got up from his seat.
"Always glad to help the police.
Outside of the office Ryu asked, "What do you think?"
"He'd protect her, but I don't think he is."
"That's what I was thinking as well."
"So you believe him?"
"Not really."
"Do you believe anyone?" Sam asked him.
"No."
"Little harsh in there."
Ryu looked at him. "I am getting tired of hearing people speak well of that girl. She's a criminal."
"Emiko, get up," Match said as he shook her awake and turned her over in the bed. A moment later she heard him demand, "What is this?"
"What you both wanted." Emiko heard Andrew say.
"What?" Emiko asked as she sat up. She felt much more alert than she had the first time she awoke. Match looked angry, and Andrew was smiling. Somehow that smile bothered her.
"This will attract attention," Match told the Doctor.
"Which is why it is so perfect," Andrew said smugly. "Who will suspect her?"
"What did he do?" Emiko got to her feet. She swayed for a moment, dizzy, but that passed almost immediately.
"Here." Andrew smiled and handed her a mirror. "It's low tech, but portable."
She took it and looked at herself. Her visions was still a little blurry, but she could make things out well enough. Her skin was a few shades lighter, her complexion improved. Her hair was much longer. Her nose was larger, better shaped and her chin stronger than it had been. Her eyes were a lighter shade of brown with green flecks. She was beautiful. She thought she looked like her mother when she had been young.
"This is not what I wanted," Match nearly shouted.
"This isn't me," Emiko said. "What did you do?"
"Listen," Andrew said, "all three of us wanted something. Match, you wanted her looking different so you could sneak her out of here. Emiko wanted not to change too much. I wanted to make art. We all got what we want."
"What?" Emiko demanded, dropping the mirror.
"Listen girl, all your friends and family will recognize you, especially as I didn't change the voice very much, and your mannerisms remain the same. That's what you wanted. On the other hand," he looked at Match, "anyone who only has a picture to go on will not connect this girl with the terrorist. People don't try to hide by making themselves stunning. And even if they do get suspicious and take a close look I've changed her finger prints, blood vessels in her eyes and tweaked her voice just a little bit. Add too that changes I made in her DNA to match what she is now, she is going to skate right under any suspicion."
"I didn't pay for this."
"It is all gratis. You gave me something interesting to work with." He looked towards Emiko. "You were pretty damn easy to work with really. And I only had a few hours to work with, so I kept what I had." He turned his attention back to Match. "You brought me an overgrown toddler; I gave you a young woman. Seems fair to me."
"Overgrown toddler?" Emiko asked.
"You were probably adorable before you hit puberty," Andrew told her, "but trust me, that does not age well." He looked back to Match. "If I had a week or two I would have done a regression job on her. She would have looked good young, and you would have had an easy time sneaking her out of here."
"Regression job?" Emiko asked, suddenly confused.
"They were big about ten years ago, I think they are going to come back into fashion."
"You just had to be a fucking artist." Match shook his head.
"I am an artist."
"This isn't me," Emiko said again, prodding at her face with her fingers. The skin was a bit tender, but not painful. "This isn't me."
"It is the you you were meant to be," Andrew said, sounding like a commercial.
"No it isn't," she said, and then stormed from the room.
She walked through the clinic, until she reached the room where she had first met Andrew. She began to pace the room, every few seconds she would stop and look into one of the mirrors, looking at the new face, the new body she had. It was her, she recognized herself, but at the same there was something of a stranger in the mirror.
"It's not so bad," Match said as he came into the room.
"It is not me."
"Would it have been so bad if he made you homely?"
"What?"
"Would you mind if you were ugly?"
"No. Yes." She shook her head. "I don't know."
"I think you took a certain amount of pride in not being quite perfect. I think you considered it something that made you unique. But if you were unique then it's not gone. Looks never matter. You are still the same person."
"I don't know," Emiko looked at herself again.
"Trust me. I've been changing the way I look for years. You learn the surface does not matter as much. We're on a tight time frame, come on,"
Emiko finally took her gaze away from the mirror and focused on Match. "Where are we going?"
"Hotel. We both could use a good night's sleep. Tomorrow we get out of here."
"Where are we going tomorrow," Emiko asked as she walked towards him.
"Orbital colonies, and then, for you, beyond," he told her. "Let's go get your ID from the doctor and then clear out of here."
Only the flickering light of the TV screen lit the room. Emiko had a pair of earphones on, an antiquated piece of tech provided only for children. On the TV she watched as Yuki was interviewed. She hugged her legs to her chest and listened as Yuki went to great length about all of Emiko's short comings. It was obvious that Yuki was not at all surprised that she was being accused of being a terrorist.
Before her they had interviewed Alice. Alice had only received about twenty seconds in which to say she was sure that all the charges against Emiko were lies. Yuki had been talking for almost four minutes about how she was sure that they were all true.
Neither were completely right of course, Emiko thought, but it certainly was not fair that Yuki was getting so much more time to talk.
"What did you do to that girl?" Match asked from his bed. "Run over her puppy or something?" He laid there, eyes closed, as if he was asleep, but Emiko supposed he had been watching and listening by means of his datalink.
"I didn't validate her sense of self worth by being the failure that she needed me to be." It was, Emiko thought, the worse thing she had ever said about Yuki. It was also true.
"Ah," Match said knowingly as he opened his eyes. He shifted off of his bed and then stood up. A moment later he sat beside Emiko, putting an arm over her shoulders. "You have had a hard few days."
"The worse." Emiko couldn't help but to laugh. She was suddenly conscious of the man beside her. Of his smell, of the feel of his warm body next to hers, of his strong but gentle fingers on her shoulder as he offered the comfort of camaraderie.
"It will be over soon. You'll be safe."
"But I won't be able to go home." Emiko wiped at her nose with the back of her hand.
"Not now. Maybe in the future."
"My parents think I am guilty. Many of my friends aren't sure, but with the news being as it is they'll be convinced soon enough. How can it ever be the same?"
"We all go through changes, we put the past behind. This one is just being forced on you and more drastic than most. Survive it kid."
Emiko leaned against him, letting him hold her up. She remembered how sacred she had been when she had first seen him. He had been cruel to her, hurt her, but he had protected her since she had first met him. He did not lie to her, did not tell her that things were fine. He told her how things were and how they were not as bad as they had been.
For a moment she thought to ask that he sleep with her, she thought maybe having sex would make her feel a little less alone, but she did not. Not sure if she was worried he would say yes or no. He offered one more gentle squeeze across her shoulder and then returned to his bed. Emiko stayed up until the news was over then turned off the TV and lay down.
Match pushed the accelerator to the floor to pass a large truck. He merged back into the fast lane and retained the speed he had built up when passing. He was worried about her, that there had been too many changes, too fast, that she would break. He was worried what he would have to do about it.
"Ever been into space before?" he asked her, getting tired of the silence.
"A few times," she replied, staring out the passenger window at the traffic. "Few vacations up to High Five, a trip to the Saturn cities, a tour of a ship with my father once." She shrugged her shoulders.
"Better than some. Bothered by zero G?"
"Other than the fact I'm totally useless in it, not really."
"We're going up to High Five. So many people up there it will be hard for anyone to pick us out of that mass. From there I'll get you on a ship that will take you to the Pleiades. I'll leave you once you are aboard that ship."
"You're not coming with me?" She turned towards him, a lost look in her eyes.
"No. I got business to take care of here."
"More business like me?"
"Perhaps. Lot of people might want to run soon."
"Do you know what is happening?"
"No more so than you. We have a war here that I can't figure. It's pointless. Unless you believe that the colonists are really going to destroy all those worlds."
"They'd have to work pretty hard at it."
Match nodded.
"Do you think I will ever be able to come home?"
"Truthfully?"
Emiko nodded.
"Poetically I've heard it said no one can come home again. You can try, but do you think you'll be the same person then?"
"I'm not the same person now," she said.
Match did not feel like getting into that conversation and said nothing.
A few minutes later they were pulling into the parking complex that served the Alameda Spaceport. Match parked the car then got out and walked back to the trunk. Emiko got out of the car and looked around.
"Here," Match said, putting her suitcase down on the ground. He placed her carry on bag on top of it. "Let's go," he told her as he slammed the trunk closed.
Emiko followed after Match as they walked through the space port. She would often find herself looking around, worried about getting caught and trying to search out danger. Match would tell her to relax whenever he noticed her doing so.
She was getting some looks, but none seemed suspicious. When she passed some reflective surface she would suddenly realize why people were looking at her. Would it have been better if she had been homely? Was she prejudiced against the good looking? She did not think so. Maybe Match had been right. Maybe she had just liked having it as a problem to deal with, something she could stoically accept. If that was true what did it say about her? Maybe that she was just like most everyone else, wanting to be just that extra little bit special.
She was sill thinking about that when they reached the baggage and ticket check. They got into the first class line, showed their tickets handed their baggage over, and then went onto the security check.
The man at the weapon and explosive detector seemed to give her a little more attention than anyone else, but he hardly looked at her passport or the monitors behind his station.
Once they were through Match led the way, seeming familiar with the layout.
"You got to give Andrew credit," he said softly as he stepped onto one of the moving sidewalks. "He was spot on about this."
"I suppose," Emiko said, leaning against the rail. "But he was weird. Did you hear what he said about regressing me?"
Match did not answer her question, but simply said, "We won't have any trouble on the flight, but once we reach High Five act cool, but don't let your guard slip."
"I thought you said it was so busy no one would notice us."
"They won't, which is why someone might be up there hoping we'll show. It is where I'd watch even though the number of people going through there makes watching difficult. They might get lucky though."
"Wonderful."
"Nothing is easy when you're on the run."
Emiko thought about that, and then nodded after a moment.
When they reached the boarding terminal Match used the first class tickets to pre-board and went straight to his seat. Once he had his carry on stowed he dropped into his seat and went to sleep.
Emiko wasn't that relaxed. She pulled her computer from her bag. She had replaced the identity chips so she logged onto the Dataweb without any worries. After looking through the shuttles data store she downloaded a fashion magazine. Short skirts were coming back in, she saw, looking over an article. That would mean everyone at school would be rolling up the waistbands of their skirts, using belts to hold them up high. She shook her head. At least there was one good thing about leaving.
Sam floated near the arrival gates, watching people. Ryu had sent him up to High Five on the off chance that they might get lucky. High Five was a bottle neck; anyone wanting off the planet would end up there. It made sense, but as a bottle neck there were vast numbers of people coming in and out. Unless they wanted to slow trade significantly they could only do so much.
Even if the girl did pass through the station he was not likely to see her. He would have to trust to the various monitoring devices within the station, but he did not have the manpower to watch that data in real time.
Sam was pretty certain that Ryu was growing desperate, not really that hopeful, but trying anything. Ryu himself was wandering the ruins of Rome, probably getting into fire fights with the gangs as he tried to find the girl there among the outsiders and scavengers. Sam did not think he would find her amongst those people, he did not really think that Emiko had any contacts amongst them.
That growing desperation had Sam, and a few other officers he had managed to get assigned to him, hoping to find a needle in a haystack.
He watched, but did not try to see, he let his attention become unfocused. He doubted that he was going to recognize her, she might be in disguise, or have already made a significant change in her appearance. In his brain were tiny bits of nanoware, fused to his neurones, boosting his abilities of perception and recall to peak human levels so he missed little.
In that 'no mind' state he spotted someone.
He had seen many people, had discounted most, and this one was gone almost before she registered. There had been something familiar in that flash of profile; in the way she had moved.
It might be nothing.
He could wait, perhaps someone even more likely would come along, but she had seemed the most likely. And if he was wrong, well, the surveillance had to end sometime.
He got onto the private datalink channel, contacted his team, sent them off on their vectors while he moved off in the direction he had seen her going.
Emiko almost screamed when Match yanked her back into a corridor they had just exited. She forgot to grab onto one of the wall mounted handholds and nearly ended up floating off in the microgravity.
"What?" she asked after a moment of scrabbling to grab the handhold, keeping her voice down.
"Encrypted chatter stared going off. I think I saw a man I know, part of USSA criminal investigations. Last I heard he had been transferred to Tokyo," he told her as he looked around.
"Is he here for me? Have they found me?" Emiko felt her heart beat faster in her chest.
"I don't know, and not yet." Match was looking around, a far off sense to his gaze. She guessed he was in a Dataweb conversation with whomever they were to meet. After almost a minute he looked down at her. "Come on," he said, heading back the way they had come, towards the toroid they had just left.
The toroids of High Five rotated around the central cylinder, providing the gravity that the population required. There were 6 of the rings around the cylinder. They were heading back into the fourth from the North end of the cylinder. Soon gravity returned and they had to take an elevator down to the street level of the toroid. He led her away from the public areas as a quick pace.
"Okay," Match finally said, "change of plans."
Emiko nodded.
"We're going to get you out of here in what might be best called an unorthodox method."
"How?"
"Spacewalk. Come on." He increased his pace.
"What do you mean?" She had to run to keep up.
"A ship will be waiting near one of the airlocks. You go out, they grab you. Easy."
"Easy?"
"Trust me. And it's not like you have any choice."
"I could turn myself in."
"Not really much of an option," he told her as he ducked down an alley and stopped in front of a maintenance door.
"Maybe better than just jumping out into space," she said as she stopped nearby and looked around.
"Relax," he told her as he picked the lock on the door then opened it. A set of stairs led down into the lower levels of the toroid.
"I don't want to relax."
"You better," he said, ushering her through the door before following her and closing it.
"Isn't there some other way we can do this?"
"No. Here, you might need this." He handed her a pistol, a slug thrower.
Emiko looked at the weapon for a moment, then reached out and took it from him. She did not bother to ask where he had got it or how he might have gotten a weapon past security.
"The safety is on, no round in the breach. It's not wireless so don't waste any time trying to sync your glasses up to it."
"I understand," she said, putting the weapon in the waistband of her pants, pulling her jacket over it.
"Let's go." He slid around her then headed down the stairs.
Sam looked around, trying to second guess his quarry. Where would he go in a similar situation? Around to one of the other spokes, back up to the central cylinder perhaps? It seemed likely. But to what end, and then where? He turned around and headed back the way he had come. If she stayed down in the toroids there was no easy way off the colony, at least any way in which she could go far.
Match stopped at airlock, overrode the security, and cycled open the inner door. He moved in and opened the storage cupboards. He looked through the contents for several seconds. "Damn," he said as he closed the cupboards and left the airlock. The door cycled closed behind him.
"What is it?" Emiko asked.
"Nothing, come on."
Emiko followed after him, always following she thought. She watched as he opened two other airlocks and after looking through the storage cupboards in those had left them as he had the first. Emiko thought he was beginning to look desperate and it was made worse by the fact he would not tell her what he was looking for.
"You two," someone called from behind them. "This area is off limits to all civilian personnel."
Match pushed Emiko off into a cross corridor, then dove the other way, pulling a pistol from within his coat. The man behind him, a member of the colony's security simply stared without doing anything. Match shot him twice.
Emiko was just pushing herself off the floor when the shots rang out. She jumped up and ran back out to the corridor. There was a man lying on the floor.
"You killed him," she said, looking back at the body.
"Probably," Match said, grabbing her by the elbow and propelling her down the corridor.
"But..."
"There are no buts," he told her.
A few seconds later an alarm began to sound.
"Well, that's it," he said, running, dragging her along behind.
"What do we do now?"
"The same things we were going to do before, just the hard way."
"I thought that we already were going to do it the hard way!" Emiko wailed.
When the alarm sounded Sam immediately checked in with station security. They told him there had been a report of gun fire in the maintenance corridors of the fourth toroid. It was close to the area that he had lost track of the girl. They had to be related.
He called his team together sending them to where the report had come from.
"The ship that will pick you up will be passing within one hundred meters of this airlock," Match told her as he worked on the airlock's control panel. "They won't be able to stay that close for long; station control will be having a fit over it. You won't get a second chance."
"What do I do?" Emiko was trying to control her breathing. Her knees were shaking.
He held out a small, black cylinder towards her. It was about the size of her hand, smooth, covered in small bumps. She took it.
"When the red light on that com lights up, hit the cycle button." He indicated a control on the airlock. "I've overridden the safeties and it will initiate an emergency decompression. That will blow the outer lock open. No one will be able to stop you from going."
"Okay," she nodded, wondering how he could sound so calm about it when she was so frightened that she was afraid she was going to wet her pants right there.
"Hold onto the handle here," he patted the hand hold near the door, "and hold on tight."
"Hold on tight," she said, parroting him.
"Wait for the signal from the ship. Once they are in position they will flash a set of red lights, real bright ones. It will be obvious. At that point bend your legs, point yourself at the lights, and push off like your life depended on it."
"Does it?"
"Yes."
Emiko almost dropped the com. She took a deep breath and asked, "Okay, where is my vacc-suit?" She was proud she had managed to ask it without her voice quavering.
"That's the problem."
"What's the problem?"
Match opened the door of the storage cupboard and pulled out a small, blocky package the size of his head. "This is a rescue ball. You crawl in and basically wait from someone to come and pick you up. You just float in it, you can't really move anywhere."
"So I float in it and wait for them to come and get me?" She did not understand.
"No."
"No?"
"That will take too much time. The ship would have to send someone here to grab you. Once you blow that lock you'll maybe ten seconds of clear time before station personnel can react effectively."
"Like what?"
"Like hit you or that ship with the station's point defence guns."
"They would do that?"
"They might."
"So what am I supposed to do?"
"You can survive hard vacuum for ten or fifteen seconds, maybe more. You'll probably lose your sight, but they've got a good sick bay over there and will be able to put you right. Their doctor has plenty of experience dealing with decompression sickness."
Emiko stared at him for several seconds, and then, suddenly calm, she said, "I think I'll turn myself in."
"That is not an option."
"Why?"
"Because I'm to kill you before I let you get captured. You know too much."
She stared at him, opened mouth, and then said "Are you joking?"
"It isn't a joke. It never has been. I don't know what you thought you were getting into when you agreed to spy on the USSA but it was not a game. You either have to be beyond their reach, or you have to dead."
"But, but," Emiko thought of what to say, of all the work he had done to protect her, of all the help she had provided to Takashi, but all she could think to ask was, "Wouldn't it have been easier just to kill me right off?"
"I'm not a monster. I don't want to kill you. You don't want to die. This will not be easy. I've done it once and it almost did me in. I figure you got a seventy percent chance."
She stared at him for a moment and tried to remember the man she had wanted to sleep with. It seemed ridiculous now. "I hate this."
"I'm not surprised."
"I hate you."
"You have that gun."
She looked at the com she still held. She could feel the gun in the waistband of her pants. She had a choice. "When it flashes red?" Emiko asked.
"When it flashes red. Good luck Emiko-san."
"I'll need it."
He nodded. "If you are ever back in Earth space, try to let me know." He put a hand on her shoulder, smiled at her and then released her and stepped back out of the airlock. A moment later he sealed the door. Emiko suspected that she would have a hard time opening that door if she suddenly decided not to take this suicidal chance.
Standing by the control panel, one hand on the hand hold, one holding the com, she waited and tried to remember what little she had read about the drill for emergency decompression. It did not seem like enough.
She almost dropped the com when a light on it flashed red. As she expelled the air from her lungs she put the com unit into her carryon bag. Reaching out she tapped the cycle button. She heard the soft booming as the outer hatch was blown clear, but then she heard no more but the air whipping by her, like a typhoon, almost pulling her out with it, and then all she could hear was the sound of her pumping heart.
Small globes of red were floating in front of her. Her blood, she realized. Already her vision was tinged with crimson. Out in front of her, looking so far away, was a boxy ship, dark in colour. She could only see it because of the bright running lights on it. Then a group of lights flashed a bright, intense red.
Bending her legs, she centred herself on the pattern of lights. She was beginning to feel light headed, her lungs starting to burn. It was all happening so fast. She could see more blood floating around her.
She pushed off the edge of the lock, launching herself into open space.
Sam had just made it under the streets when he got a message about one of the airlocks being blown open. A moment later someone had given him a direct feed from one of the station's outer cameras. In the crystal clarity of vacuum he saw a single person, no vacc-suit, female, floating through space.
There was a ship out there as well.
Impossible, he thought as he realized what it was seeing. No one would take that chance, and yet someone was. Later he would think he should have ordered the station to open fire with the point defence guns, but it happened all so fast.
Then there was another figure, that one in a vacc suit, tethered to the ship. That person grabbed the girl. As soon as contact was made the ship was accelerating. The force as the tether snapped taught must have been punishing, nearly deadly, but the ship was soon far from the colony, out of range of the station's guns even if someone had thought to start firing.
No one would do that, Sam thought. It was too crazy. Only a professional could have pulled that off, been willing to take the chance. He did not accept that fact that anyone else, no matter how desperate, would try it.
Maybe Ryu was right about the girl.
"How long was she out there," the doctor, John Manabe, yelled as they moved the gurney along the corridors. The ship was no longer accelerating so its crew was working in microgravity.
"About 14 seconds," he was told by the man who had pulled her in, an old spacer called Edge.
"Long time, "John said. He held onto the gurney, letting himself be pulled along, and put a pneumatic syringe against her neck to inject her with a synthetic oxygen carrier.
Once they had her in the sick bay, they got her strapped onto the table-a precaution against acceleration-and went to work.
"Okay let's get an IV going into her, a mix of plasma and O2 carriers. Large bore needles, two bags, full open," he ordered. As the others went to work he opened one of the wall mounted instrument drawers and pulled out the decompression kit. Breaking the seals he opened it up and from the foam padding within removed pneumatic syringe, clipped with a large reservoir that held a mixture of specialized medical nanites.
"I lost the pulse," Karen West said.
"Shock her."
"Right away," Karen said. The medic tore the defibrillator from its velcro mounts. It popped open, ready for use. "Charging," she said as she took it off safe. Edge stopped preparing the IV and took a moment to cut the girl's clothing open, barring her chest. He reached over and grabbed a tube of conducting paste from the kit and squeezed some out for Karen. She rubbed the paste across the conductive plates, then smeared some more across the girl's bare chest. "Clear," she called after a few seconds.
Everyone stood back as she placed the unit on Emiko's chest, moved it until the lights went green, and then triggered it. Emiko's body jerked against the restraints as the electricity ran through her.
Karen looked down at the readouts on the unit. "Got a beat, strong and steady."
"Okay, get her hooked up," John said as he put the syringe against her neck and triggered it, holding it there for the three seconds it took for the reservoir to empty.
"Got an IV in." Edge said.
"Good." John popped the empty reservoir from the syringe and reached towards the decompression kit for a fresh one.
"Doc, we got to light up the engines." The captain's voice came over the intercom.
"Understood," he said, not that he could say anything else. He clipped the full reservoir into place, grabbed a handhold, and gave the girl another three second shot in her thigh, right through the material of her pants.
A moment later the ship was accelerating forward at nearly two gravities. Not the best way to work, John thought as he grabbed an IV bag and began to squeeze.
Shingo stood by the large window of the apartment, staring out at the city. Surrounded by other buildings he had to look upwards to get a sense of the vast metropolis that spread out around him. He turned after a few seconds and looked towards his wife. She sat on the couch, quiet.
She looked lost.
"I'm going to put in for leave of absence," he told her. "I'll stay here."
Takako looked towards him, she frowned. "There's a war on, you are needed. Why would you... Something happened to Emiko, didn't it?"
She knew him so well, Shingo thought as he walked over and sat down beside her. "I don't know, but a friend sent me this." He opened a shared file, let Takako view it over her datalink.
"Is she in space?" Takako asked a moment later.
"Yes." He paused. "She looks like you did, at that age. I always said she would grow up to be beautiful."
"If she was going to change the way she looked why not so do completely," Takako said, sounding exasperated. "The child can't do anything right."
Shingo almost laughed. Takako criticizing Emiko, it was almost as if it was just an ordinary day.
"Is she," Takako paused, "dead?"
"I don't know. She was out in space for a little over fourteen seconds, according to the surveillance. That is survivable, as long as you get immediate medical attention."
"And if you don't?"
Shingo said nothing for several seconds.
"I just looked it up," Takako said. "No wonder you are not saying anything."
"There was a ship ready. They probably had a medical team on board. There would have been easier ways to kill her then stage a farce like that. Someone wants to keep her alive."
Takako nodded. "Poor Emiko. How desperate have you become?"
"Very," Shingo told her, "but the authorities think it was anything but desperation."
"What?"
"They are taking her behaviour as that of a professional. A well trained operative who is a threat to the USSA."
Takako cocked her head to the side, as if changing the orientation of her view might help her understand. "They think Emiko is a trained operative?"
"They seem to think she is one of the best they have dealt with in a long time."
"My Emiko?"
Shingo nodded.
"That's the most stupid thing I have ever heard," Takao snapped. "Emiko was still wetting her bed only two years ago."
Again Shingo felt like laughing. "I remember. She was so mad at you back then."
"She should have been mad at herself." Takako shook her head. "Emiko is helpless. Why can't they see that?"
"Because everything that she has done makes it seem anything but." He put his arms around her and hugged her tight. "She is your daughter my love."
"Don't be foolish," Takako said. "If anything she takes after my grandmother. That woman was a scoundrel who never did an honest day of work." She sniffed and pulled herself tight against him.
"They are going to be investigating her now, a deep investigation. They are going to come to you."
Takako nodded and then said, "That's why you want to stay, to protect me."
"Yes."
"Don't worry about me. You know I have friends. I can go to Sydney if I need to."
Shingo nodded. "I still want to stay with you."
"There's a war on. You have your duty." She kissed him. "I have mine."
Emiko blinked her eyes against the sudden, bright light.
"Where..." she said but stopped; her throat felt like sandpaper.
"Aboard the Charybdis Cruiser 'Mandarin'. I'm your doctor, John Manabe. It was pretty close there, but you'll pull through. You are going to be hurting for a few days, and it will be a week or two before your eyesight is back to where it was. The nanobodies we'll be working for a while on everything."
"Nanobodies," she managed to get out. The man talking to her was mostly a blur.
"Standard treatment. Not permanent I'm afraid. They'll be flushed from your body within the month. Of course until then you won't have to worry about getting a cold and cuts will heal fast." he laughed.
"Great," Emiko said, closing her eyes. The sarcasm in her tone was lost in the rough croaking sound of her voice.
"Get some rest. We'll be making the shunt in a short time. Then you'll be out of USSA space and safe in the Pleiades.
Emiko said nothing. She wanted to sleep but hurt just a little too much. Lying there, not moving, not talking, seemed like a good alternative.
"How's your patient?" Captain Jess asked.
"As well as you could expect," John told her.
"That bad," she smiled.
"She'll be all right with a little time. What happens to her once we get to the Pleiades?"
"We take her to Solingen and drop her off there. Someone else will be taking care of her at that point. What is her medical condition?"
"Like I said, she'll be alright in a little while. The nanobodies will be doing the most of the work. I'll give her some basic meds for pain, supplements for the nanobodies, pretty much maintenance drugs."
"Good enough," Jess said.
"Captain, we have cleared the gravity well," her navigator called.
"Got the course plotted?"
"Ready to go."
"Okay, light it up."
The navigator reached out and tapped in the start up code into her boards. An immensely powerful electromagnetic pulse was created, igniting the sidereal collectors. As they began to collect virtual particles the GRASER (Gravity Amplified by Stimulated Emission of Radiation) was ignited by the powerful fusion generators. The GRASER generated a spherical soliton field of coherent gravity around the ship.
Decaying, high energy anomalons, produced by the anomalon generator, supercharged the gavitic soliton field. The field accelerated to near infinite speeds and for a moment the field and its ship passed through every point in space. At once it was everywhere and nowhere.
10 to the negative 42 seconds later, the ship appeared just outside of the gravity well of the Primus system.
"And we are here," the navigator called.
"Get your frequent flier miles now ladies and gentlemen." Jess laughed. "Take us in nice and slow towards Solingen. No need to alarm anyone. We will rendezvous with the other ship in about twenty hours behind Falchion. Will your patient be ready to go by then?" She looked at John.
"She should be able to walk."
"Good enough."
Emiko moved carefully, getting dressed. She was a mass of hurts. The clothing she had come in was ruined, and the luggage she had brought from Earth was long lost. She only had kept her school bag, with her school uniform stuffed in the bottom, under various text books, and her computer. Some of the Mandarin's crew had donated some clothing to her, some clean underwear that fit poorly, a baggy ship suit-bright orange coveralls with lots of pockets- as well as a pair of boots that almost fit
She put the bag up on her shoulder and pulled herself slowly along the railing. Moving in zero-G was tough and she did not feel like slamming up against a wall in her present condition.
Outside of the door Doctor Manabe was waiting for her. Her vision was still blurred, but she could recognize people now, mostly.
"Ready to go?"
"I guess," she said. She was not happy about being handed off to yet another new keeper, as it were. Still, she had no choice.
She did not talk to the doctor as he led her through the ship's corridors to the airlock. There another man was waiting for her. He didn't give a name, just led her through the transfer lock into the other ship.
"Take care," John called. Emiko looked back and waved, then turned and continued into the other ship. The airlock was closed and in a few minutes the two ships were separate and moving off in different directions.
Emiko sat in a chair in the small cabin she had been showed to. She had closed her eyes, thinking about how far she was from home. She felt tears well up as she realized she might never see her family or friends again. What had she been thinking when she decided to help Takashi-san? She had never thought that she would end up in another solar system, wanted on Earth as a terrorist. It all seemed so unfair.
Ending Credits - Lisa Loeb, Stay version
Other Musical Themes
From Keko, for this chapter/episode Hearth of Steel by Manowar
Emiko blowing herself out into space, The Beatles, Lucy in the Sky With Diamonds
Replies to Reviews
drakensis
Glad you enjoyed the original story and I appreciate your feedback on this.
There will be some changes to the story, nothing major, it will unfold much as it had originally. There are some areas that I can clean up, and there are some minor characters who might be removed, or given more of a role so they don't see so 'throw away'. If there are any suggestions you would like to offer I would be happy to read them.