xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Unrelated to the submarine Catain's shindig, a cheer went out, and a numbing number of glasses tinked together, a rather festive and homey noise.
'Stin igia mas' rolled like distant thunder. The large dining party must be Greek.
Not to be outdone, another group of people called out 'Elinize Saglik,' banging their silverware on the top of ten tables! Turks.
Greece and Turkey have a rivalry with a history of events that have been used to justify their nationalism. These events include population exchange between Greece and Turkey, the Istanbul pogrom andCypriot intercommunal violence. The distant histories of the Byzantine Empire and Ottoman Empire didn't help matters.
Amidst the din, a young woman of average height with a pale skin complexion, brown eyes and long, dark blue hair pushed her way a little strongly past swinging doors leading into the brightly lit and impeccably clean kitchen area, unaware of any points of contention in the dining room.
It was all Greek to her, so to speak.
A blue ribbon tied her hair, taking the place of her once favorite red ones. After seeing all that she had seen during her kidnappings and rescues, it was difficult preventing herself from associating red with blood.
That was one sign of her slowly improving PTSD.
"Sousuke likes blue," she murmured, absentmindedly twirling the ribbon around one finger. "Because it matches my hair." She sniffed. The man didn't have a shred of fashion sense; but, he had begun to notice things like hair accessories, and she didn't want to take the wind from his sails. So, blue ribbons it was.
"Hey!" Kaname turned abruptly to see what dead-man-walking had goosed her rump; but, it had only been the door, swinging back harder than usual. "I'll have Sousuke deal with you, Mr. Door." She frowned and shook her fist, feeling silly afterwards,
Great!
She had gotten into a one-sided argument with a door.
Yes, she still had a touch of tomboy about her, seeing how she had lived in the United States for a good portion of her life. That attitude had once been a sticking point with her father, but not as big as the one that she once had with her sole remaining parent, the one who had been in the U.S. when his wife and her mother had died of cancer in Japan. Fortunately, father and daughter were on much better terms these days. Oddly enough, they both had Sousuke to thank for that.
'That which doesn't kill you makes you stronger' had been repurposed as 'That which doesn't kill you brings you closer.'
"The muscle is back," Kaname said brightly, standing tall beneath the glaring fluorescent lights of the cooking area. She cocked her right arm and patting her bicep. Her silken sleeve slid down her arm, and the charm bracelet that her father had given her made a jangling sound as it followed suit.
Her fancy clothes were a great deal different than the garb she usually wore to Tokyo University, and an even greater contrast to the school uniform she once wore at Jindai High. Her usual daily clothing was crisp, clean, and cool, but frugal just the same. Just because she and Sousuke had money, didn't mean that she liked to spend it. "Is there anything more you need help with?" That was directed to her father.
Being very athletic and having seen a lot of American action movies, traits that come in handy in real-life military situations, the erstwhile highschool idol had once been brash and overly bold in the kitchen. Her food had suffered as a result. Now, having cooked with her father and her significant other in the same kitchen on a number of occasions, she was far more restrained. Her baking and braising had both become beautiful, as a byproduct. However, while buried deeper down, her temper still remained, and that could readily result in one male or the other wearing some half-mixed batter or sauce.
But not today! She was on point. She would pay off her bet with aplomb… and, it seemed, with plums. There was a bag of fruit sitting unwashed at the corner of the nearest table.
"If I may," Shunya Chidori said, his chef's apron stained with small amounts of ingredients and a smattering of sweat from his brow. "I would ask that you start work on the damson consommé." That would be an exciting accompaniment to the Baked Alaska. Toning down the sweetness, it would make things suave and refreshing. There was a basket of damsons eclipsed by the sack of plums.
"Leave it to me!" Kaname spoke forcefully, feeling as gifted in the kitchen now as she did in the classroom, even though her Whispered abilities had once made her gifted in science and mathematics, not the culinary arts. "I bet I can do it better than Sousuke would." She winced.
That word 'bet' again. How many times had she heard that word since Sydney. At least ten times in the car from the usually silent Sousuke. That had been an exercise in anger management. A little heat still churned just beneath the surface.
No. It's okay. She was cool with things. Ice cold. You bet!
'My loss is the restaurant's win, I suppose,' she thought. Had she won the bet, she probably would have insisted that Tessa be made to work as a waitress. That no doubt would have resulted in a veritable cascade of foodstuff falling on floor and customer alike. And that would be the best case scenario.
"No doubt no doubt," Shunya said affably, ever the diplomat. "You've certainly done a bang up job so far today." Now it was his turn to wince. 'Bang Up.' Not the best words to use. He, like his daughter, had begun using 'Sousuke-isms' in their speech.
Moreover, he didn't want to jinx things.
Looking at the progress the two had made so far, Shunya smiled, proud of his daughter's efforts, and pleased with his own contributions.
Stifling a yawn, he thought back to the initial phase of their cooking that morning and afternoon, with things now heading into the evening. Hours earlier, Chef Namae-san had led them to the kitchen and assigned them an area away from the hustle and bustle of the active cooking staff. "I'm surprised you know how to cook this, my friend." He handed Shunnya a chef's jacket and a starched white apron. Turning to Kaname, he had offered a verbal chestnut: "In 1895, Jean Giroix, head chef of the Hotel de Paris in Monte Carlo, invented the dish we know today as Baked Alaska. He called it omelette à la suèdoise at first and then changed the name to omelette à la norvegienne… I suppose it probably sounded 'colder'."
"Indeed," Shunya added. "The originator of the dish had decided to create a 'scientific dessert' by using Benjamin Thompson's discovery of the low thermal conductivity of egg whites. Thompson lived in Bavaria at the time of his discovery, and as the chef mistakenly thought Bavaria was in Norway, he decided to name the dish 'Norwegian omelette'. By the turn of the 20th century the dessert had crossed the Atlantic… and there changed its name to Baked Alaska."
"Why Alaska," Kaname asked cheerfully. "Why not Nebraska or Wyoming?"
"The name 'Baked Alaska' was supposedly coined in 1876 at Delmonico's, a restaurant in New York City," Namsae answered. He had dined there in the past with Shunya after cooking a fancy lunch for some other UN dignitaries. "The name was chosen to honor the acquisition by the United States of Alaska from the Russian Empirei n March 1867."
"However, the original recipe was called 'Alaska Florida'," a sous chef added, while trying to catch the head chef's eye. "That name suggested extremes of cold and heat."
After Namsae left to check on his sous chef's work, Shunya started off with a bit of a science lesson for his daughter. Black Technology wasn't the only fascinating topic in the world!
"The hot-and-cold technology behind Tessa's chosen dessert isn't rocket science." He began arranging ingredients into useful groupings. "Egg white is a poor heat conductor. When the ice-cream goes into the oven, egg whites act as a fire blanket. That of course will work to our favor." He gave her a gimlet glance, in case she had any thoughts of taking shortcuts to save time and effort. "We will not be like corner-cutting chefs who fire a blow torch at the raw meringue to make it look as though it has been baked. Done that way, the whites won't cook and the quality will suffer." He swallowed hard. For some reason he pictured a certain Sergeant picking up a flame thrower to get the job done.
"You were picturing Sousuke, weren't you?" Kaname was a clever girl, after all. "Was it a flamethrower… or napalm…."
"Flamethrower," Shunnya admitted.
"Uh huh." Kaname smiled. Then she stopped. She shouldn't smile at that kind of thing, it might encourage Sousuke. She gave herself a little smack to the forehead. That muddle-headed military misfit wasn't anywhere in sight! Force of habit! She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. On the sunnier side of tsundere now, she should allow herself to smile and stop worrying about the elephant who was not in the room.
"I understand how you feel." Shunya was no slouch himself, and had correctly followed the many looks on his daughter's face. "Let's get to business. The world waits for no one." His hand twitched, as he unconsciously recalled what he knew of Amalgam's aborted plot. Tessa's bother had hated Black Technology and the Whispered, because the presence of both in this world had caused the death of his parents, led to his separation from his remaining family, and caused his comrades to continuously die. In his eyes, everything had become distorted… not just for him, but for the entire planet. The thing that the tragic villain hated most was the entire timeline, and everything he had wanted to do had revolved around correcting the mistake that was the Whispered, ushering a brand new world.
The elder Chidori's mind still spun like a gyroscope at times, when he thought about Kaname's and Sousuke's roles in the whole shebang. "Baked Alaska… damson consommé… and spiced Victorian plums." Would he still like to cook in the other world, had Mr. Silver succeeded in his sedition? Would Shizu have succumbed to her sickness? If not, would they have been able to find a way to keep the full family together in the U.S.?
"What do we start with, this time," Kaname asked. "Dad?" What might her father be musing on? He had a strange look on his face.
"Ummm. What? Oh yes. Financiers." Shunya pinched himself, ending his churning thoughts. "Small almond biscuits. The mixture we will make, when baked, will form the base on which to stand the ice-cream. The batch size makes about eight 15 centimeter by 15 centimeter squares, giving nine bases from each one. I'll need your help in measuring out 90 grams of plain flour… 90 grams of almonds… 120 grams of icing sugar… and 80 grams of liquid honey. We will also need 220 grams of beurre noisette… which we will make… and 220 grams of lightly beaten eggs." He gave the blue-haired girl a stern look. "Lightly beaten. Light-ly."
Kaname made a petulant face, smirking at her own reaction. "I'll keep my guns in check." She frowned, even as she spun her arms in circles, loosening up. Guns. Guns! Egads, Souske-isms abounded. "Can I do more than beating eggs?"
"Certainly," Shunya said, feeling a bit peeved with himself when he felt a twinge of possessiveness. Yes, he loved to cook. True, he could be a bit of a diva or dominatrix in the kitchen; but, just the same, he proved to be a fine instructor when the three cooked together. He was also a generous man, thanks in part to his current wife, and he was slowly becoming a doting father.
To both Kaname and Ayame.
When Kaname successfully completed her first task, her father said "Now you can work on the beurre noisette, a warm sauce commonly used in French cuisine. Start by melting the butter in a pan and heat until it goes nut-brown." He placed butter in a skillet for her.
After she had done as she had been told, Kaname strained the mixture through a fine-meshed muslin. "Mission complete." Damn. It was NOT a mission. Definitely NOT a mission. She shook her head and raised a white mental flag If you can't beat them, join them. She quoted Admiral David Farragut: "Damn the torpedoes and full speed ahead!" and began beating the flour, almonds, sugar, honey and beurre noisette together until they form a sticky mass.
"You should now beat in the egg whites to obtain a spreadable texture." Shunya rubbed his chin. A thought popped into his mind. Why now? Why not! The ball had bounced into his hands and he would take it and run. "Speaking of eggs… I hope that you and Sousuke are using contraception."
"Gah!" Kaname fumbled the mixing dish, a bewildering bit of clumsiness for a star athlete who had never muffed a fly ball. "Daddy!" She had never even admitted the fact that she and Sousuke were in a sexual relationship. She had never mentioned the tiniest hint about any part of their romance. "We… he and I… I mean..." She was not usually one to bobble words, either.
"I was a hot-blooded young man myself one day, you know." Shunya grinned when his daughter made a face hearing that. "I'm not shocked to see what kind of relationship the two of you have." Kaname's reaction had given everything away, naturally. "I wouldn't be surprised if the two of you didn't try a little hanky panky in New York, when I was out of the house."
Kaname stood stiff, like a deer in the headlights of an onrushing tractor trailer or barreling AS transport.
She could vividly picture a scene that was indelibly etched into her memory. But, now, the images sped by in fast forward:
["Your father. I had hoped that he could come to like me. Lt. Cmdr. Kalinin is the closest thing I have to a father, but he is my commanding officer. I did not want only to win Shunya's favor... I had hoped to earn his respect." Sousuke looked out of the window, watching the occasional car drive by. "Some how, I feel very alone, now. That's foolish, I know."
Kaname sat still a moment. She could feel the tears welling up in her eyes. Gently, she pushed Sousuke down onto his side and snuggled on next to him. She put her hand on his face again, forcing him to look into her eyes.
"It's not foolish, Sousuke. I've felt that way before, too. You should remember one thing... as long as I'm here, you're not alone." She put her arms around him. He responded by bowing his head against hers. The scent of the kitchen on him, mixed with the musky deodorant he usually wore. His heart beat slowly, almost in sync with her own. His breath tickled her neck.
"Thank you Kaname." He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her tight against him, as if she were the only bit of buoyant material near a sinking ship.
Kaname felt the blood rushing to her face. Sousuke's closeness, together with his vulnerability at that moment, pulled at her emotions. She tilted his face so she could kiss him. He was distracted at first, but then matched her own growing ardor.
Neither had any idea how long they were lost in each other's presence. Sousuke was the first to come up for air. There was a look in his eyes that Kaname hadn't seen before. "I would do anything for you, Kaname. Anything."
The words sent a thrill through her like none she had ever felt before. She knew he would die for her. But, this was something more, something from deep inside him.
"Sousuke..." She kissed him again, brushing her lips along his neck. She held her breath. She pushed her self back a bit and looked into his eyes. This was her home away from home. The room was filled with things that brought back numerous pleasant memories. She was alone with the man she loved.
"Kaname?"
"Anything, Sousuke?" Kaname was caught halfway between mindless desire and painful uncertainty. She wanted to jump up and pull the curtain closed, even though no one could see them in the shadows. Her body was running far ahead of her mind.
Sousuke nodded his head.
Kaname blinked repeatedly, feeling close to giving up. She set herself. Determined, she took Sousuke's hand and placed it on her breast. At that moment, she was very frightened. What if Sousuke pulled away? Would her heart break into a thousand tiny pieces? And what if she changed her mind too late, what then?
Sousuke's eyes went wide. He began to sweat. There was a battle raging inside him too. The feel of his hand against Kaname's bossom sent a bolt of desire running through him. It felt good. Very good. Exceptionally good. The reaction seemed natural. He caressed her, drinking in her texture and softness. The look on her face excited him further.
She wanted this.
It felt good for her too.
But, he was a soldier, sworn to protect her. She was in her father's house, having already survived one Third Degree. This was a mission into unknown territories, and there had been no briefing.
What should he do?
What might he feel next?
He was afraid of the building tension inside him. Was it normal, or could it be a residue of his prior self, the one he became when he was ruled by his primal urges?
Kaname made a low moaning noise, stretching her body out and rolling over onto her back. She opened her eyes to mere slits and spoke very quietly. "There are two of them, Sousuke." She drank in his features. He was eager, but tentative. His desire was evident, but so was his concern for her.
It was wonderful.
Sousuke took a deep breath and let himself go. This was not a time for thinking. His body was giving the orders. He was too well conditioned to disobey. He found himself stroking his hand over Kaname's side, down along her abdomen. He ran his hands around the full swell of her buttocks and learned the contour of her thighs and belly.
Everything was a revelation.
Kaname had started things, but found herself just as shy at first. Before she knew it, her hands were busy exploring Sousuke as well. His muscles were so firm, something she had noted many times in the past. Now, however, she felt the blood pounding in her head. He was so strong, but could be so gentle.
To her, at that moment, he was the only person alive in the world.
"Wait a minute..." Kaname got up and closed the curtains, just to be sure. She spared a quick glance for the clock. She put her ear against the door, to make certain Mr. Smith wasn't stirring. She turned a night light on.
Fighting her own feelings of propriety, and brushing away her childhood fears that she was not really pretty, Kaname began unbuttoning her blouse. She couldn't believe she was doing this, but found she didn't care about plans and preconceptions.
It felt right.
She left her blouse on but opened. She unhooked her bra in the front. Kneeling on the bed again, she wished she could see the look in Sousuke's eyes. 'Take that, you big moron...'
"Kaname..." Sousuke sucked his breath in when she put his hand where it had been before.
"Shhhh... I love you Sousuke. It's OK. We don't have anything to be ashamed about." Kaname felt the breath hiss out between her teeth when Sousuke found just the right spot. "And if you stop, I will kill you."
Sousuke fought down his fears and feelings of inadequacy. This was Kaname. She was everything to him. It would be alright to let himself go, as long as it was what she wanted.
"I love you too, Kaname..." Sousuke felt a thrill when his touch had an effect on Kaname's nipples. Everything about her excited him. Literally and figuratively. He never wanted this moment to end. He was alive, not some kind of machine.
"I want you to kiss me, Sousuke...everywhere..." Kaname lay back down again, treasuring every touch of Sousuke's hand and body. When his lips touched her, she pulled him tight and fierce.
Things were not destined to go any further that day.
Both would be relieved, but each also had feelings of regret.
At one point, Kaname gently pushed Sousuke away.
"I don't think I'm ready for anything more, Sousuke." She didn't want to hurt him. She especially didn't want him to feel rejected or judged to be a failure. But, she discovered she had a limit, and they had reached it.
"You didn't do anything wrong. I think I went this far only because you made me feel so good." She stroked his head before fixing her clothes.
"I see. It is just as well. I began to feel I was doing too much, just because I wanted you to be happy. The feelings were so wonderful, that I was afraid I would never feel them again if I went too far. Also... I..." Sousuke sounded embarrassed.
"What, Sousuke?"
Sousuke didn't answer.
"Sousuke?"
Still, no reply.
"Sousuke!" Kaname's voice was loud in his ear, but wouldn't carry beyond the room.
"I...well...it is not a problem..." Sousuke could be seen to be blushing when Kaname opened up the curtains again.
"Then, there shouldn't be any reason you can't tell me, right?" Kaname was feeling too good to be cross, but she wouldn't let Sousuke know that.
"Uh..."
"Sousuke Sagara!"
"I...ummm...will need to...errr...change my undergarments..." Sousuke looked like he was about to drown in his own sweat. He was certain Kaname would take some offense at his admission.
"Oh..." Kaname blushed. Then she smiled. She wasn't angry. Just the opposite...somehow, Sousuke's stammered confession made her feel very good about herself.]
"Penny for your thoughts," Shunya said, noting the dreamy look in his daughter's eyes. "Is there something you want to tell me?"
'…" Kaname wanted to make some kind of denial or snide remark, but could only mouth 'No.' She hoped beyond all hope that accessories to the bombe did not include a cream sauce.
"Fine, fine." Shunya said. "Back to work. I don't know why you brought that subject up." He smiled at his daughter's look of disgruntled disbelief. "For each financier sheet, spread a thin, even layer of the paste over the baking parchment with a palette knife. This kind of knife here."
"I knowww-ww-w what a palette knife is, Daddy!" Kaname picked up the utensil in question
"Use that metal frame on the equipment cart over there to keep the edges square," Shunya continued nonplussed. "I'll preheat the oven to 180 degrees C. When it's ready, I want you bake the financier sheets for six minutes."
"Roger, that!" Kaname frowned. At least that response had been better than the one she had literally choked down: 'Affirmative.'
When the blue-haired girl had finished the task, she let the sheets cool, and was directed to temporarily store them in an airtight container, leaving them on the parchment.
"Now what," Kaname asked eagerly. This was fun. She might actually owe Tessa a debt of gratitude, having the opportunity to cook with her father like this, in such a famous eatery.
"Ice cream," Shunya replied. "I've chosen to make Lemon Thyme flavor… but the flavor is part of the recipe that is always up for grabs." He hoped that Tessa would find things to her liking. He had decided to keep some manner of control over the process, not asking what the Whispered Captain's preference might be. He didn't want to do something cliché, like Strawberry.
"Ice cream…." Kaname murmured, briefly daydreaming again. She and Sousuke had many fine moments together, eating ice cream cones. She snapped back into focus, after her father snapped his fingers.
"The method we use here today will be for the Pacojets." He pointed to three sleek and dark gray kitchen appliances that micro-puree frozen foods into fine textures without he Pacojet is a popular tool in professional kitchens and is used by chefs to make a variety of dishes, including ice cream, sorbets, mousses, sauces, soups, concentrates, doughs, and batters. "But… a freshly churned ice-cream would also work. Would that be more to your liking, seeing that you can give the Energizer Bunny a run for his money?"
"No," Kaname shook her head. She had made ice cream the 'hard way' before, and was not in the mood, when the machine could do just as good a job, if not better.
"Hmmm. Speaking of rabbits," Shunya said calmly, a twinkle in his eye. He had grown to enjoy teasing a certain blue-haired girl. "And that famous Leporine test." He did not specify. He wouldn't need to. His following words would leave no question. "Have you and Sousuke thought about giving me grandchildren?"
"OW!" Kaname had jerked her body abruptly, and banged her shin against unyielding shiny metal cabinetry. "That… he… I… we…."
"Just so that you know," Shunya continued, hoping that his sous chef would not leave the kitchen battered and bruised beyond belief. "For girls I prefer the name 'Nami.'" That was a coincidence. He had no knowledge of the red-haired girl that Sousuke had come to know in Namsac, before she had been brutally executed in cold blood by the Amalgam agent Kurama in an effort to draw the SRT soldier out from hiding. "For boys… Yasuto. That name means 'peaceful, calm, tranquil.' Quite the opposite of the 'bang, boom, and blammo' that you are currently used to."
"But… Sousuke and I haven't…." Kaname told a little white lie. Actually, for fun, they had once mused about baby names, long before they would ever need one. When Sousuke said he liked Setsuna Seiei Sagara, the game had abruptly ended.
"Your stepmother would prefer Moto for a boy and Tomoe for a girl," Shunya continued. "Oichi and I polled Kumi and Izumi. As you might expect, they are not interested in naming Sousuke's babies… the two of them are interested in having his babies."
"I… thought… we…. were… talking about… ice cream…." Kaname crossed her arms over her chest and tapped her right toes against the shiny tile floor. Her words were understandably heated. Had all of New York City gotten together to discuss her personal life?!
"Sorry. I suppose that I jumped the gun." Shunya frowned. Not only was that a Sousuke-ism, but it could be read as sexual innuendo. "Just remember… Nami… Yasuto…."
"Daddy!" Kaname stomped her foot.
"We have ingredients for about one Pacojet beakers… enough for eight portions, seven more than we need. Should a Sagara-like circumstance arise, the leftover ice-cream could be re-churned. An Emergency Ration, if you like." Dang it! Another verbal gaffe. "We'll need 200 milliliters of milk… 200 milliliters of double cream… 12 grams of fresh lemon thyme… 80 grams of egg yolk… and 85 grams of caster sugar."
Kaname wrote those numbers in her head with a mental ball point pen. She frowned. If Sousuke had been there, he probably would have carved the numbers into the polished metal counter top with his trusty combat knife. Yes, the same knife that he used to cut deli meat; shave without using her cherished Barbasol; and weed their modest rooftop vegetable garden.
When she had gathered the necessary ingredients, her father said "Bring the milk and cream to the boil in that enamel pan," without adding to his teasing. He fought the urge to ask her if she intended to breast feed her future babies. It was rude and improper for a father to ask. Furthermore, he did not want to end up wearing the ingredients, and subsequently be forced to scrounge for necessary replacements. Where was that type alien thought coming from? He had spent some time around Kaname's friends during this brief return to Japan. Kurz Weber was a bad influence. Melissa Mao might be even worse. And, that one had worn him out by constantly asking for crab and noodles!
"Done," Kaname said.
"Good," Shunya said, happy to toss in some praise. "Add the lemon thyme… excellent… take it all off the heat... magnificent… cover the pan with film and let the milk-cream cool completely... done like a champ…."
"Eh hem!" Kaname was tapping her toes again. "Are you trying to get back on my good side again?"
"Was I on your bad side. Daughter?" Shunya raised an eyebrow. "What could possibly have caused that." He smiled at the incredulous look he got in return. "Well, it is marvelous… wonderful… and really really great to be back on your good side. Pardon me. Spare your old man that look. Strain things into a bowl or fresh pan…." He waited until that action was complete. "….And discard the herbs."
After that, Kaname whisked the yolks and sugar until pale. She combined them with the milk and cream and heated gently, stirring all the time.
"Use the thermometer," Shunya ordered. "You want a temperature of 84 degrees C to make a crème anglaise." The ice-cream base. "When things cool, you will promptly pour the mixture into the Pacojet beaker and let it freeze. Then, you will let the machine churn it into ice-cream."
"By your command." Kaname sarcastically responded to the stern tone that Shunya had used. It reminded her of Commander Mardukas. She grimaced. Maybe she should have said 'As you wish,' quoting a famous line from one of Souske's favorite movies, 'The Princess Bride.' After she loaded the machine, she asked "What do we do while it does its magic?"
"You might want to quickly answer one of your phone calls," her father offered. Kaname's phone had been placed on silent, but still buzzed when someone rang. "The Pacojet only takes four minutes to make one beaker. It will be too soft to eat when it comes out, but will be perfect for our needs. It will then harden and stabilize in the freezer."
Kaname then left, exiting through the kitchen's streetside door. Leaning against a telephone pole, she made brief calls to Kyoko, letting her know what was going on, so that her friend wouldn't worry the way she was wont to do, if she didn't return the bespectacled girl's calls in a prompt manner. Both of them had been kidnapped, separately and apart. That kind of thing leaves a lingering and lasting mark. When she returned, she found her father sliding a chilly beaker of ice cream down along the countertop.
"A little help here, my dear daughter." Shunya pointed over at an adjacent countertop. "I need you to place that 15 by 15 by 5 centimeter metal cake frame around that financier sheet." When Kaname had done that, he spooned ice-cream on top to a depth of about four centimeters, and deftly worked to smooth it over perfectly. He put his well-crafted concoction in a freezer set to minus 18 degrees Celsius so that it could freeze hard. "Now, done with that, we have a few hours to kill." Kill? No harm no foul. It was a common phrase, not necessarily a Sousuke-ism.
"Inconceivable," Kaname said with a smile, doing her best to imitate Vizzini. She felt better now.
"Huh?" Shunya cocked his head. "Pardon me?" Then it hit him. His daughter and beau had manhandled him into watching that movie on a number of successive nights. He cleared his throat. "Have you heard of Plato, Aristotle, Socrates?"
"Yes," Kaname said with a smile.
"Morons," Shunya said in character.
"I love you, Daddy." Kaname was feeling fiercely fond of her father at that moment.
"Thank you Buttercup," Shunya said with a sly play on words.
Father and daughter left the restaurant and were shuttled to a Mithril briefing that was suitable for military personnel and civilians alike. The meeting was at Yokota Air Base, located on the island of Honshu on the Kanto Plain, twenty eight miles northwest of Tokyo, nestled at the foothills of the Okutama Mountains.
It's funny the difference a few years can make. The secretive agency had once feared that Shunya would learn about them. But, after the battle with Amalgam, a good number of people were savvy about their existence. They were no longer a secret, but they were still highly secretive. They also insisted on using the same name again. Some overly-educated members of the Intelligence department had suggested the name of other fantastical metals. Fortunately, all of their suggestions had been shot down like an SU-35 or Mig-29 caught in the sights of one of the TDD-1s Lockheed-Martin F35Cs or Boeing F32s.
The meeting was not about a rising threat in the Indo-Pacific reason. The participants were told that the gathering had nothing to do with Black Technology nightmares like the Omni-Sphere or about human threats like Sophia, the tortured woman who had essentially been the 'mother' of the Whispered.
Shunya had learned from Kaname that Sophia Barova had died in an accident in a lab where she had been kept and forced to work. The mysterious TAROS machine had blown up, sending particles into the atmosphere that affected one hundred and seventy four highly vulnerable newborns within a four-minute span, prompting ten of them to become Whispered. And it was on those waves of particles that her consciousness continued to live, and speak to the Whispered. It was she who had told them each what they came to know, her vast knowledge divided amongst them.
"Kaname was the first Whispered," Shunya said to himself, looking at his daughter, still finding bit hard to comprehend all of the events that she had played a pivotal part of. "Which is why her connection with Sophia was the strongest." So much so that Sophia could basically hitch a ride on her and mesh with her, as far as to believe that she herself was Kaname the whole time. He was happy to know that no part of Sophia remained. Because of that fact, the Whispered no longer heard Whispers, making them of little value as kidnap targets.
The purpose of the get together was to work on the final details regarding Mithril's involvement with Captain Testarossa's special night out. The Research Division passed out new surveillance equipment and communication gear to the necessary parties. The Intelligence Division provided data on the nearest domestic and foreign criminals and terrorists that might hold grudges against Mithril in general and Captain Testarossa specifically. It was possible that some evil doer might view the soiree at L'Effervescence as a Golden Ticket. The Tactical Division went over the nuts and bolts of the operation, from boots on the ground to eyes in the sky. No stone was left unturned. Members of the Tokyo Metropolitan Police and U.S. Air Force officers from the base were included in the conference, because they might be needed if things boiled out of control.
"A lot of balls in the air…" Kaname spoke to Sousuke, who she and her father had run into at the tail end of the meeting. "….For just a night of fine dining."
"You are just a college student now," Sousuke said, gruff in his own way, by no meaning to be dismissive. "While Tessa no longer hears Whispers, she still has extensive notes that are now the Fort Knox of Black Technology preservation."
"I see," Kaname said, putting on fake airs. "She's Fort Knox. What am I, chopped liver?"
Sousuke wasn't fooled by her act. He made a production of sniffing her hair and blouse. "No. Not meat. Cheese, Vieux Boulogne." That was a soft cheese from France that is so smelly that it is banned from being eaten on public transport in that nation. Researchers at Cranfield University once named this cheese the smelliest in the world.
"What?" Kaname reacted for real. That was how quickly her sea can change. "What!" She sniffed herself, feeling like an idiot doing so. That only made her more miffed.
"Excellent!" Shunya felt no need to be over-protective. No. Quite the opposite. He wanted to get into the game. Sousuke's choice was masterful. His would be, too. "You might also have mentioned Durian." That was the world's smelliest fruit, the smell of which is often described as combination of turpentine, garlic, and raw sewage. The smell is so strong, that the fruit is banned in many public places, including hotels, public transportation, and airports.
"That fruit has a spiky outer shell…." Sousuke had eaten Durian before. It tasted like custard with hints of almond at times, and sometimes even tasted like diced garlic and caramel poured onto whipped cream. "….Just like Kaname."
"…" Shunya hid a smile behind his hand in exaggerated fashion, and then gave Sousuke a thumbs-up gesture.
"Two jerks," Kaname grumped. "Hmmmpppfff!"
Sousuke was soon called away to duty. Kaname and Shunya still had time on their hands, and after leaving the base and arriving back in Tokyo, spent some pleasant time together supping on java and snacking on pastries at Higuma Coffee and Doughnuts. At the appropriate moment, Shunya tapped his watch. It was time.
The intrepid bakers headed back to L'Effervescence to finish the Baked Alaska in time to serve it to the guest of honor.
Shunya's thoughts came back to the present. H had taken it upon himself to work on the plums. Kaname had started to work on the consommé.
"Here… we… go…." Kaname rolled up her sleeves and tied them in place with a pair of hairbands, not wanting to stain the fancy fabric. After that, she got to work. She hunted down fifty milliliters of stock syrup, two vanilla pods, two star anise, and one whole kilograms of damsons, small, ovoid, plum-like fruit with a distinctive and somewhat astringent taste. She ignored her father when he quipped 'I'm plum tuckered out.' "Kaname Chidori, chef extraordinaire at work!" Jauntily, she put the syrup, vanilla and star anise in a pan large enough to take the damsons and then put the damsons on top of a burner and brought things to a boil. She cooked the mix until the skin on the fruit split, took things off of the heat, and passed the fluid though a fine sieve.
"Press the pulp gently," Shunya ordered. "Don't force it or the consommé will cloud."
"Aye Aye, Sarrrr!" Kaname saluted her father, a man who had never served an any military or paramilitary group. "Pressing gently. Hah. I know that Sousuke could never do this." That was probably true up to a point. Her boyfriend was still a bull in a china shop. To be fair, since he had made great efforts after bringing her back to Tokyo, she should probably see him as a bubble-wrapped bull in a flame-retarded ad explosive-resistant china shop. "He'd probably beat the pulp to a pulp!" She thought a moment. It sounded like she still needed another level of excess. "And then beat that to a bloody pulp!"
"Amen to that." Shunya had become more fond of Sousuke every passing day, but still had to face the facts. "And then he would package that pulp… mail it to himself… and then explode the suspicious package with C4."
"And get the pulp all over ME in the process," Kaname griped. Something to that effect had occurred on more than one occasion, replacing pulp with all manner of stain-inducing solids and solutions. "Oooo-ooo-oo-o…."
"Calmly," Shunya said, stepping back to a safe distance. "Calm-ly." He sighed when Kaname finished her task without blowing a gasket or two., or punching a fist through Chef Namsae's imported sieve. "Home stretch."
The father/daughter duo got to work on Swiss Meringue, using a classic basic meringue recipe. Egg whites and icing sugar. Simple enough in theory, but a good meringue needed attention to detail and excellent technique.
Wanting to play things safe… and itching to get his own hand in the game… Shunya took the reins. He whisked egg whites until they started to foam He added the icing sugar and continue whisking till the the whites rose, stiffened and and began to shine. A proper meringue mix should be stiff enough to form a sharp point on the end of the whisk. He accomplished that goal with little fanfare.
Kaname sedately cut out an ice cream cylinder on its financier base. Shunya then neatly filled a piping bag with meringue and snipped off the end to give a seven millimeter nozzle.
"FATHER!" Kaname rarely used 'Father,' preferend Dad and Daddy. But, an unexpectedly impish Shunya had used the nozzle to squirt large 'devil horn' onto her shiny blue mane, making her look like Miyuki from YuYu Hakasho.
The nerve of that man!
Chanting a mantra that she had learned in a book called 'The Calma Sutra,' Kaname beat down her outrage, taking no psyche prisoners. Admittedly, it was amazing, having her father be playful with her like this. Truly, it was something she should learn to cherish. "Very funny" she said more softly, making a small noise when her father gently wiped her hair clean.
"Wow!" Shunya exclaimed. "That got things even shinier than the shampoo you use. Maybe we… ummm… should use…." He ran down. The suddenly sharp look that his daughter gave him brooked no more hoseplay. Kaname's temper could be kept on a lead for only so far and for only so long. "Here… if you must…." He handed the scowling girl the piping bag and bowed his head, placing it well within her reach.
"I don't want to waste any," Kaname said sedately, seeing herself as the adult in the room. Her eyes narrowed and her nostrils flared. "To Hell with that!" She gleefully gave her father a meringue beard and mustache. With his conical chef hat, he looked like Shouxing, the Star Elder of Longevity, Japan's favorite of the three Fuku-roku-ju, Chinese star gods that bless people with success and well-being. The two stood together chuckling, feeling embarrassed, when Chef Namsae walked into the room… shook his head… and quickly exited from where he had entered.
Kaname pipe lines of meringue over the top and down the sides of the ice-cream,enclosing it completely, while her father wiped his face completely and threw the offending towel into a dirty laundry bin. "No," she said, when her father critically asked if she had left any gaps. "You know me. Kaname Chidori, over-achiever." The meringue coating was indeed pristine and perfect. But, that wasn't the end of things. To obtain a finish that makes the outside look like a conker… the spiked green outer shell of the glossy mahogany-brown nuts of the horse chestnut tree… she repeatedly touched the surface of the meringue with a finger tip and pulled outwards. A little point emerged with each pull. The results reminded her of a giant white meringue-covered sea urchin.
It was then time to bake.
Kaname had preheated a fan-assisted oven to 250 degrees Celsius. Shunya stood the Baked Alaska on a cold baking sheet and placed that sheet into that oven, pleased to be in a Western style establishment. In general, in traditional Japanese restaurants and homes, ovens are not as prevalent as in the Western world, and if present, they are usually smaller, more specialized ovens like 'fish ovens' integrated into the stovetop, or small electric grills similar to toaster ovens, primarily used for grilling fish or toasting.
Why?
Traditional Japanese cuisine doesn't heavily rely on large, conventional ovens like those found in many American kitchens.
"This is nicer than my oven at home," Shunya admitted. That was saying something. On their last wedding anniversary, Oichi had gifted him with a state-of-the-art Molteni, a French brand popular with famous chefs and celebrities. "Don't tell your step-mom." He then baked the confection for four minutes until the surface formed a pleasant mid-brown color. When it was finished, the Baked Alaska needed to be served at once, even though the ice-cream under the meringue wouldn't start to melt for a few minutes.
"For the pièce de resistance…." Shunya said, excited. He put a metal hoop in the middle of a large china plate. He half-filled the hoop with spiced plums… removed the hoop…. and then poured the damson soup around it. "Voila!" He finished with drops of lemon oil. "Would you like the honor?"
"Thank you, Daddy." Kaname gently placed the Baked Alaska on top of the fruit trivet. "It's aliiii-iii-ii-ive."
"Eh hem," Shunya said, making a face. This was French cuisine, not the 'Bride of Frankenstein.' He called out "Serveur, si vous plait!" He was well versed enough in etiquette to know that one should not call out 'garçon' like people did in American movies. That word meant 'boy,' was an outdated cliché, and was considered condescending. "I can't wait to see the look on Miss Testarossa's face."
A waiter came, placed the finished desert on a large swanky silver tray, covered by a tall spiffy silver dome. Holding the tray up with one hand, he backed his way out of the kitchen doors and headed off to the dessert's destination with an athletic and speedy stride.
He called out to the establishment's maître d'hôtel: "Mister Pankisi, I am bringing the bombe to table three."
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx