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almondinflowerStreets of Nippon - Chapter 8
Characters: Atobe, Taki,
Wordcount: about 4000 words
Summary: Atobe and Taki go to the Tezuka household to investigate, and have an unexpected encounter.
As soon as they approached the Imperial District of Nippon Keigo was assaulted by a claustrophobic, oppressive sense of nostalgia. Irrationally he expected, as he and Haginosuke joined the AI-controlled, streamlined, clouds of traffic circling the city skyline, some secret implant in his retina to flare, some messenger molecule in his bloodstream to signal -- or else some telepath, buried in the bowels of the Palace, to jerk upright in recognition of Keigo's psychic signature.
Your inability to underestimate your own importance never fails to surprise me, Sakaki had once said.
Yet it was Sakaki who had made Keigo undergo months of testing, all those years ago: PET scans, magnetic resonance, biomarker evaluation - and then the reconfigurations: iris coloration, fingerprint grafts, gene therapy to alter Keigo's blood type and hair colour. Sakaki had even paid an Immune to guard Keigo for years, until the most powerful imperial precognitive, Fuji Yumiko, resigned both her position and her Shinnihon citizenship to relocate to the neighbouring star system.
"I would not have been able to do this ten years ago," Sakaki had told him at the time. "The Silver Emperor's grip weakens."
"Where shall we park?" Haginosuke's voice cut through his reverie.
Keigo had forgotten to consider the problem of their vehicles. "...Botanical gardens," he answered, after some thought. "Aerial traffic's banned there, which means that if we have to remote summon the flyers in an emergency, there'll be minimal obstacles."
"We'd never be able to use those LAFVs legally again after pulling a stunt like that," Haginosuke sniffed. "But I suppose your idea has merit. You know, I don't think I've ever been in this part of town before."
"I have," Keigo said.
It was about a fifteen-minute walk from the underground parking at the gardens to their destination. It should have taken seven, really, but Haginosuke kept pausing to scrutinise various specimens of vegetation, and Keigo was in a tolerant mood, mostly because they were finally doing something instead of merely being reactive.
“We should come here more often,” Haginosuke said, lightly trailing his fingers along a wall of kudzu vines.
Keigo answered, “This is the best-guarded district in Shin Tokyo.”
“I mean to visit, not to commit crime. Speaking of which,” Haginosuke let his gaze rest on a pair of heavily customised women lounging on a picnic blanket, “with the amount of legit money you can get in places like these, I’m surprised Sakaki even bothers with Hyoutei.”
“You underestimate Hyoutei’s profit margins.”
“Do I?” Haginosuke threw Keigo a sly look. “Should I be asking for a raise, then?”
“Bring it up at your next performance review.”
“But we don’t have performance reviews— ” Haginosuke’s voice trailed off as they emerged from a sidegate into the cul-de-sac of an elegant residential lane. “Wow. Wish I could afford that.”
Keigo eyed the half-dozen or so mansions that sprawled out along the crescent lane they had just entered, only mildly impressed. “Sakaki’s home is several times the size.”
“Sakaki doesn’t live in Imperial District territory. How much does land in this area cost, a million yen per square metre?”
“Probably more.”
Haginosuke let the conversation lapse as he fiddled with a program on his wristcomm device – some sort of surveillance add-on, judging from the holographic display. Then he said: “There’s no-one at home.”
Keigo’s brow lifted as he saw the house that Haginosuke was gesturing to.
Built Japanese-style, with tiled sloping roofs and a surrounding yew hedge for privacy, the building was no larger than the average outer suburban family home. The window shutters, made from synthetic rice paper, were closed to the air. A discrete traditional garden nestled in the front courtyard. The overall effect was one of restraint and propriety.
“How very Tezuka,” Keigo said.
“Don’t gawk.” Haginosuke took hold of Keigo’s wrist as they entered the front driveway, leading him around the side of the house. The garden was much larger than it seemed at first sight, expanding into a system of ponds and bamboo fountains.
They reached a sliding screen door at the back and Haginosuke pressed his face to a retinal scanner that Keigo hadn’t even noticed was there.
The door opened.
Keigo was surprised. “That was easier than I expected.”
“Oh, but it wasn’t. It’s just that I’m good. Well, shall we?”
They entered what turned out to be the dining room, unremarkable save for an ikebana arrangement of rose and lotus leaf sitting on a wooden tablestand. A folding screen painted with cranes partitioned the space; walking beyond it, they found the main living area.
Haginosuke wrinkled his nose. “It’s so neat.”
“Not everyone is as fond of living amidst complete chaos as you are.” Keigo looked around. There was a flatscreen embedded into the wall. “Would you be able to hack that, do you think?”
The smaller boy reached into the back pocket of his slim-fit jeans and extracted a thin, pearl-grey infodevice, which he flipped open. “I can try.” A flurry of fingers on buttons, followed by a murmured series of commands that Keigo couldn’t catch.
The flatscreen lit up, flicking its way through a series of loading screens before resolving into a series of menus typical of any ordinary household information sytem.
“What do you want to see?” asked Haginosuke.
“Let’s start with their inbox.”
Twenty minutes later they had accumulated a near-encyclopedic collection of facts about Tezuka Kunikazu’s online mystery novel reading group, about the local judo dojo which he ran (apparently also attended by several cabinet ministers and Shin Tokyo notables), and every drinking party held within Shinnihon Law Enforcement in the last six months.
Haginosuke switched off the flatscreen, looking disappointed. “It seems like Tezuka’s grandfather is the only one who ever uses this system for communications.”
“Does Tezuka Kuniharu even live here?” Keigo asked.
“Officially, no. Although his wife does, and I’m pretty sure Tezuka used to come back and visit even when he was active in Seigaku. Tezuka should still be in the Neue Bundesrepublik, at that neuromedical centre in Kapitalstadt.”
“Not for long, though. At least not according to Oshitari.”
“Yeah, Oshitari’s pretty reliable. Speaking of which,” Haginosuke narrowed his mismatched eyes, “would you be able to precog this area, get some information that way?”
“That’s a good idea.” He did a visual scan of the area, attempted to focus his mind in order to activate his psionic gift, only to find himself distracted by the sight of one of Haginosuke’s espionage insects, a tree cricket, resting on the other boy’s shoulder.
Haginosuke was gazing at him curiously. Keigo scowled and tried again.
This time he closed his eyes to get rid of visual stimuli. He stilled his mind, reached for -- and found himself wondering, with an alarm he had not felt earlier, about Oshitari’s premonition regarding his impending death.
It took a third failure for him to realise what was happening.
“It’s not going to work,” Keigo said. “I think this place has Immune cover.”
Haginosuke looked dumbfounded for a split second, but recovered quickly. “Well, that’s crap news.”
“What that implies is either they’ve paid an Immune to protect this house, meaning that there’s something to hide here, or someone living here is an Immune.”
“So either we should search this place from top to bottom, or get the hell out of here.”
“We’re staying,” Keigo said. “Put your insects on high alert.”
“They are already on high alert. But they won’t pick up anything that doesn’t come right onto the property, and once someone arrives it’ll be too late for us to get out of here.”
“Set your gun to taser.”
Haginosuke didn’t look happy about it, but he followed Keigo through the rest of the house.
Eventually Keigo paused at a doorway. “This must have been Tezuka’s room.”
Bare and neat as the rest of the house, the small bedroom nevertheless retained a certain anachronistic air, one that Keigo recognised from the times he and Sakaki travelled offplanet to visit the homes they’d lived in before he joined Hyoutei. While someone evidently kept the floor vacuumed and the shelves (built-in, filled with school trophies and fishing lures and a motley collection of rocks) dusted, there were no pillows on the bed. The wall monitor hanging above the desk in the corner was cycling through a series of pictures featuring Tezuka Kunimitsu when he was no more than thirteen or fourteen years old.
“Want me to break into that one as well?” Haginosuke offered.
“Please.”
Going by the dates on the stored messages, the inbox on this system had not been used in several years. The bulk of the stored mail was school correspondence, although there was a smattering of personal mail, including a terse note from Sanada Genichirou wishing Tezuka Merry Christmas, dated December 2465.
“There’s a letter from Yamato Yuudai,” Haginosuke said, pointing to the relevant heading with a manicured finger. Impatient, Keigo reached out to tap it open.
Sender: Yamato Yuudai [address concealed]
Subject: About our next meeting
Your father tells me that you have made up your mind. As you may have guessed, I was delighted to hear your decision.
Even now you may be feeling uncertainty. Know that it is worth it, Kunimitsu. I shall not lie; there will be many times when you will wonder whether you made the right choice. But believe in yourself, and I will also believe in you. Your father’s blood runs in your veins, after all. I believe that you will do more for this cause than I ever will.
I will introduce you to Ryuuzaki Sumire next week. As a warning, she is not aware of our prior acquaintance, or of my purpose in being at Seigaku. However, I think she will be sympathetic to our goals. One of our early goals will be to slowly acquaint her with our ideals for reform.
I look forward to working with you.
Keigo frowned. “Nothing we didn’t know in here,” he said dismissively. He scrolled through the rest. “Can you forward the all data on this system to my mailbox?”
“I can back it up to my infodevice. I already did that with the one in the main hall.”
Keigo sat on the bed, thinking, as Haginosuke performed the file transfer. From what what he remembered the Tezuka family had never been considered a significant player in politics. Unlike the Sanada family, which combined a military tradition older than Nippon itself with a a startling talent for high intrigue, Tezuka government employees were best-known for doing their job – and doing it very well. They had a reputation for integrity and loyalty that was second-to-none.
Blind dogs, Sakaki had once accused. But that had happened after Tezuka Kunikazu shut down one of Sakaki’s media companies for libel against the Cabinet.
Tezuka himself fit the archetype to a tee, at least insofar as Keigo knew him. But Tezuka’s father? You didn’t get very far in InSec without being a very good liar.
“We need to find out where Tezuka Kuniharu lives,” he mused.
“How is that going to help? I doubt he takes his work home with him.”
“I need—” To find out how much he knows about me, he added silently. He was not ready to discuss that with Haginosuke.
“Maybe we’re going about this the wrong way,” Haginosuke suggested. He dropped into a relaxed squat, arms folded at his knees. “Doesn’t the Tezuka family have enemies?”
“Sakaki.”
“No, I mean enemies with more power than that. What about within the government itself, or the great families? Every runner syndicate worth mentioning in Nippon has above-ground sponsors.”
Yes, and every last one of those sponsors has reason to want the dead Crown Prince dead again. He refused to reply. Irritation flitted across Haginosuke’s features.
The impasse was broken by Haginosuke’s wristcomm flashing bright violet. “Someone’s coming home.”
Immediately Keigo was at the door, opening it. “Let’s move out.”
Another light scintillated at Haginosuke’s wrist. “Wait,” Haginosuke said, with a sharp sudden note of panic. “Don’t—“ Then he drew his gun and a white electric pulse soared forth, missing Keigo's ear by centimetres.
A female voice spoke. “My husband is not a forgiving man. I suggest that you do not attack me.”
Keigo, who had drawn and aimed in the moment Haginosuke fired, stepped back, allowing the newcomer to enter the room.
Tezuka’s mother, he thought, she is Tezuka’s mother.
Medium height and slender, with no hint of customisation on her face, Tezuka Ayana exuded a deceptive air of fragile feminity. Appearing not to notice that two firearms were trained on her, she bowed to both of them.
“It’s an honour to meet you at last, Keigo-sama.” She was dressed in a plain lilac kimono. A silver floral pin rested in her hair bun. “And you too, what is your name?” When they did not lower their guns, she continued, “Be at ease. There is no one else in the house.”
She extended one hand gracefully, and a black dragonfly whirred from her palm across the room to perch on Haginosuke’s forehead. One of Haginosuke’s espionage insects.
“Sit down,” said Tezuka Ayana. She took the desk chair, but motioned towards the floor.
Keigo signalled to Haginosuke that he should put away his weapon and take a seat, then did the same himself. “How do you know who I am?” asked Keigo.
“Shouldn’t I?” Ayana smiled. “Your father and I have been good friends for a very long time.” Seeing the alarm on his face, she added, “Your adoptive father, I mean.”
“You’re friends with Sakaki?”
“Sakaki is your adopted father?” Haginosuke said, incredulous. Then, in a different voice: “Oh, of course he is. I don’t know why I didn’t see it before.”
“Sakaki’s never told me about this.” Keigo watched Ayana’s face carefully.
“That man,” she murmured. “So intelligent, and yet he has no idea how to read people. You’re much better with that skill, aren’t you, Keigo-sama?”
She was challenging him, he felt that. But in what way? He studied her face, reached out with a tendril of telepathic energy, and met... Blankness.
“You’re an Immune,” he breathed. “You’re the Immune. The one who’s protecting InSec.”
A curve of her lips.
He reached for his holster. “You realise that I’ll have to neutralise you,” he said coldly. Bad enough that Rikkai had Kirihara; but if InSec continued to strike without warning like they had the other day--
She said gently: “Keigo-sama, haven’t you ever wondered how you managed to go undiscovered all these years?”
Haginosuke was looking at them, perplexed; Keigo felt like his head was exploding. I knew Sakaki had arranged for some sort of psionic protection, but I never really questioned where it was coming from.
But there were so few people with true Immune gifts; even the old man himself only had one in his employ, whom he kept on his person at all time...
“How can I believe you?” Keigo asked finally.
She reached into her kimono and pulled out a tiny crystal infodevice, dialling a number.
The person who answered sounded surprised, possibly suspicious. “Ayana?”
It was Sakaki’s voice.
“That’s enough,” Keigo snapped. “I’m convinced.”
There was a long pause. “Keigo. What are you doing with Ayana?” Sakaki’s tone was restrained, but a hint of warning bled through. “Don’t hurt her.”
Ayana was unperturbed. “You’re overreacting, Tarou. Keigo-sama is just startled.”
Keigo said, “There’s no point in leaving the enemy with a strategic advantage.”
When Sakaki spoke again, it was with a strong streak of sarcasm. “How strange, Keigo; I managed to control Hyoutei for about five decades without a trace of precognition skill or even the option of hiring precognitives. And yet I find you reduced to a blubbering wreck, not even a week after your psionic abilities have failed you.”
Keigo would not usually have argued, especially in public. But there was anger at Sakaki’s having concealed something as important as this from him. “For something that’s been in your care for five decades, Hyoutei doesn’t seem to rank very high on your priority list. Do you honestly not care that InSec might launch an aerial attack at any moment? Or does Ayana-san here provide you with all the InSec information you need?”
“Keigo.” The tone brooked no discussion. “You owe Ayana a great deal. Possibly your life. Certainly your freedom. ”
“You told me you had stopped providing Immune cover for me, that there was no need to.”
“I stopped paying someone to do it. That was because Ayana found out and offered to protect you herself.”
“Why?” Keigo asked, looking at the petite woman.
Her face softened. “You may not remember me, Keigo, but I carried you in my arms when you were just a baby.”
“So you feel some maternal urge to protect me, but you’re happy to help your husband’s underlings slaughter me if that’s what it takes. What an admirable family instinct.”
Her long-lashed eyes lost their serenity. “I sent my son to the streets, knowing that you were there, knowing that the best children of your generation are learning to live with violence and uncertainty and lawlessness. Do you think I wanted any of you to be there? Or do you think this is the way that you ought to live? Tarou has taught you very badly if that is the case.”
“Ayana—“ She disconnected the call, cutting off communication with Sakaki.
“Long before Sakaki taught me anything,” Keigo said quietly, “another teacher of mine showed me that living above the law is far worse than anything outside the law can be.”
“That’s true as well.” This time there was empathy in her face. “But nevertheless, the law ought to be just, and all of us should be subject to it. Without exception.”
“You’re a Tezuka through and through.”
“I married into the right family.” She had regained her initial, all-consuming poise, but there was an air of expectancy around her that Keigo would have probed telepathically, if he were able. She wanted – something, out of this conversation.
“Does your husband know about me?”
Ayana hesitated. “I have not told him,” she said. “He may have developed suspicions, if he is not too busy with other things. But he has not mentioned it to me.”
“I’m sure Hyoutei and Rikkai are under intense scrutiny from InSec at the moment.”
Ayana shook her head. “Perhaps you don’t understand this, having left the palace long before you got to know most of us – in fact, before half the court even knew you existed – but in our world, the only thing we care to know about a runner syndicate is which political power controls it. In the case of Hyoutei, it is Sakaki Tarou. In the case of Rikkai, it is the Sanada clan. And with Seigaku, it is Echizen Rinko. Rinko was only persuaded to my husband’s cause when her own son chose to become a runner. None of our plans were possible before that happened.”
“If the syndicates themselves are so insigificant, why send your only son to become a runner? You can’t tell me you sent him there for four years, risking his life, just to amuse yourself.”
“How can you change a world that you don’t understand? Whatever you may think about the Tezuka family, Keigo, we do not like being hypocrites. We wished to enter the world of the runners, become a part of it.”
“And gain political ammunition against the Cabinet ministers and the aristocrats who were involved in runner activity.”
“Tezuka only passed my husband information that was relevant to the mission that was given to him. He has never even mentioned you by name to us, Keigo.”
“Are you trying to win me over?” asked Keigo.
“Do you think you can be won over?”
He closed his eyes, breathed in slowly. Then he looked straight at her. “There is no place within the law for me,” he told her. “I was born above it, and I will live outside it.”
She nodded. “I thought that might be the case. I think it would be best if you left now, before my father-in-law comes back.”
She saw them to the front door. Just before they left she said, “Keigo-sama. If you ever want to ask any questions, please call me. You can get my number from Tarou, he will give it to you.”
Keigo didn’t look back.
#
“So I think we need to talk,” drawled Haginosuke, as they glided into the rooftop garage at headquarters.
Keigo dismounted and thumbed open the internal access to his apartments. “You’re not the one who decides when we get to talk. Nor are you the ones who decides what information you are privy to or not.”
“Sure, then. I’ll just go straight to Gakuto and have a little chat with him about this. Tell him that our fearless president is actually some secret lovechild from very, very high up and that even Tezuka’s own mother calls him sama. There are only about half a dozen families that are actually that important in the whole of Nippon, so I’m sure we’ll figure it out eventually, even if we’re not very bright—“
Keigo spun, yanked at Haginosuke’s silk shirt, and slammed him up against the wall of the garage.
His knuckles ground against the smaller boy’s sternum, prompting a yelp of pain. “Okay, I get the point, I’ll back off.” Once Keigo’s hold relaxed, he added, “But don’t you think it’s a security risk for us, if we don’t know what we’re facing?”
“If you knew,” Keigo said, “you wouldn’t want me here anymore. You’d think I was a liability.”
He let go. Haginosuke straightened his shirt. “Maybe,” his voice was husky, “I wouldn’t want you here anymore. But I would go with you.” When Keigo cast a bemused gaze on him, he added, “Not just me. I think Oshitari and Shishido would too. And you know Jirou and Kabaji would follow you to the ends of the universe.”
“So what are you suggesting, that I dismantle Hyoutei?”
“Not dismantle it. Move it. Or – expand its operations. The ones who like the idea of decriminalisation can stay. The ones who don’t, well, we can go with you. It’s not like Sakaki doesn’t have interests in about fifteen or sixteen star systems.”
“What about the work that we do here?”
“I’m sure Sakaki will manage to restructure it somehow. I imagine Tezuka Kuniharu has got some sort of sensible plan for all of it; he’d hardly try to get rid of runner syndicates just to let the economy of Nippon collapse in a week. It’s really not that bad an idea you know.” Haginosuke pursed his lips. “You like Hyoutei, but that’s because you’re in charge here and you don’t really see what happens on the ground. The streets of Nippon are a bloody mess, Keigo. I think we help more than we hurt, but you have to admit we don’t help very much at all.”
But the streets are honest, Keigo thought. They have never lied to me. They have never pretended to love me. And they have never tried to make me become what I am not.
But the longer he thought about it, the more he acknowledged the truth of Haginosuke’s words. He didn’t know the streets, not really. Sakaki had always protected him from the reality of them.
“In a different world,” Haginosuke said, watching Keigo’s face, “Kotoha would still be alive.”
Grief bloomed then, in a way that it had not since he first found the girl’s body. “I knew her,” he said. “When I was with Sakaki – before I joined Hyoutei. Her family was wealthy. It was foolish of her to become a runner.”
“Do you even know why she did it?” Haginosuke asked, the accusation in his voice now laid bare. “Do you know why I became a runner? Or why Shishido became a runner? Not everyone takes to the syndicates because their adopted father is a business mogul, you know. Or because they’re insanely psionic like Oshitari. Or because they’re just ambitious, like Hiyoshi. Most of us have no choice.” He came to a stop suddenly, as if he’d suddenly run out of breath to speak. His cheeks were flushed.
Keigo said, “But you would choose to come with me.”
Haginosuke lifted his chin. His natural eye was damp. “Yes, I would. We all would, except maybe Hiyoshi.”
“So maybe I should leave Hiyoshi behind, get him to lead Hyoutei under the new regime."
“Does that mean – that you’ve –“
“I haven’t decided anything at all,” Keigo said warningly. He headed down the steps into his rooms.
#
As he walked into his apartment he was greeted by the sight of three of his squadron leaders lounging in the sitting room. Kabaji, Oshitari and Shishido. A half-dozen or so empty beer cans lay scattered across the floor, and another six-pack sat on the coffee table, still untouched.
They were an odd trio to be sitting and drinking together, even if they were unofficially the highest ranking of the squadron leaders. More to the point, they had invaded his quarters without permission.
Oshitari spotted him first. “Ah, Atobe.” The First Squadron leader stood up, his cheeks flushed. “You’re here sooner than expected, I thought we were going to run out of alcohol.”
“What the hell are the three of you doing?” Keigo said, almost too surprised to speak harshly. “It’s the middle of the day, and I left you in charge, Oshitari.”
“Do it before I lose my nerve,” Oshitari said dreamily, “I have a splitting headache already.”
One second Kabaji’s hand had closed around his forearm, hard, and the next he was flying through the air and landing belly-up on the carpet, his arms twisted painfully behind his back.
“Kabaji, what is the meaning of this?” When that did nothing he attempted to twist out of his friend's grapple-hold, lashing out telepathically at Kabaji’s mind at the same time.
Sorry about this, Atobe. Oshitari’s voice in his mind, sleek and powerful and overwhelming. Go to sleep now.
Somewhere in the black fog that immediately descended on his consciousness he thought quite clearly, Damn it, I always knew Oshitari was holding back. Then his mind drifted.
On to side-story: He and You.
Characters: Atobe, Taki,
Wordcount: about 4000 words
Summary: Atobe and Taki go to the Tezuka household to investigate, and have an unexpected encounter.
As soon as they approached the Imperial District of Nippon Keigo was assaulted by a claustrophobic, oppressive sense of nostalgia. Irrationally he expected, as he and Haginosuke joined the AI-controlled, streamlined, clouds of traffic circling the city skyline, some secret implant in his retina to flare, some messenger molecule in his bloodstream to signal -- or else some telepath, buried in the bowels of the Palace, to jerk upright in recognition of Keigo's psychic signature.
Your inability to underestimate your own importance never fails to surprise me, Sakaki had once said.
Yet it was Sakaki who had made Keigo undergo months of testing, all those years ago: PET scans, magnetic resonance, biomarker evaluation - and then the reconfigurations: iris coloration, fingerprint grafts, gene therapy to alter Keigo's blood type and hair colour. Sakaki had even paid an Immune to guard Keigo for years, until the most powerful imperial precognitive, Fuji Yumiko, resigned both her position and her Shinnihon citizenship to relocate to the neighbouring star system.
"I would not have been able to do this ten years ago," Sakaki had told him at the time. "The Silver Emperor's grip weakens."
"Where shall we park?" Haginosuke's voice cut through his reverie.
Keigo had forgotten to consider the problem of their vehicles. "...Botanical gardens," he answered, after some thought. "Aerial traffic's banned there, which means that if we have to remote summon the flyers in an emergency, there'll be minimal obstacles."
"We'd never be able to use those LAFVs legally again after pulling a stunt like that," Haginosuke sniffed. "But I suppose your idea has merit. You know, I don't think I've ever been in this part of town before."
"I have," Keigo said.
It was about a fifteen-minute walk from the underground parking at the gardens to their destination. It should have taken seven, really, but Haginosuke kept pausing to scrutinise various specimens of vegetation, and Keigo was in a tolerant mood, mostly because they were finally doing something instead of merely being reactive.
“We should come here more often,” Haginosuke said, lightly trailing his fingers along a wall of kudzu vines.
Keigo answered, “This is the best-guarded district in Shin Tokyo.”
“I mean to visit, not to commit crime. Speaking of which,” Haginosuke let his gaze rest on a pair of heavily customised women lounging on a picnic blanket, “with the amount of legit money you can get in places like these, I’m surprised Sakaki even bothers with Hyoutei.”
“You underestimate Hyoutei’s profit margins.”
“Do I?” Haginosuke threw Keigo a sly look. “Should I be asking for a raise, then?”
“Bring it up at your next performance review.”
“But we don’t have performance reviews— ” Haginosuke’s voice trailed off as they emerged from a sidegate into the cul-de-sac of an elegant residential lane. “Wow. Wish I could afford that.”
Keigo eyed the half-dozen or so mansions that sprawled out along the crescent lane they had just entered, only mildly impressed. “Sakaki’s home is several times the size.”
“Sakaki doesn’t live in Imperial District territory. How much does land in this area cost, a million yen per square metre?”
“Probably more.”
Haginosuke let the conversation lapse as he fiddled with a program on his wristcomm device – some sort of surveillance add-on, judging from the holographic display. Then he said: “There’s no-one at home.”
Keigo’s brow lifted as he saw the house that Haginosuke was gesturing to.
Built Japanese-style, with tiled sloping roofs and a surrounding yew hedge for privacy, the building was no larger than the average outer suburban family home. The window shutters, made from synthetic rice paper, were closed to the air. A discrete traditional garden nestled in the front courtyard. The overall effect was one of restraint and propriety.
“How very Tezuka,” Keigo said.
“Don’t gawk.” Haginosuke took hold of Keigo’s wrist as they entered the front driveway, leading him around the side of the house. The garden was much larger than it seemed at first sight, expanding into a system of ponds and bamboo fountains.
They reached a sliding screen door at the back and Haginosuke pressed his face to a retinal scanner that Keigo hadn’t even noticed was there.
The door opened.
Keigo was surprised. “That was easier than I expected.”
“Oh, but it wasn’t. It’s just that I’m good. Well, shall we?”
They entered what turned out to be the dining room, unremarkable save for an ikebana arrangement of rose and lotus leaf sitting on a wooden tablestand. A folding screen painted with cranes partitioned the space; walking beyond it, they found the main living area.
Haginosuke wrinkled his nose. “It’s so neat.”
“Not everyone is as fond of living amidst complete chaos as you are.” Keigo looked around. There was a flatscreen embedded into the wall. “Would you be able to hack that, do you think?”
The smaller boy reached into the back pocket of his slim-fit jeans and extracted a thin, pearl-grey infodevice, which he flipped open. “I can try.” A flurry of fingers on buttons, followed by a murmured series of commands that Keigo couldn’t catch.
The flatscreen lit up, flicking its way through a series of loading screens before resolving into a series of menus typical of any ordinary household information sytem.
“What do you want to see?” asked Haginosuke.
“Let’s start with their inbox.”
Twenty minutes later they had accumulated a near-encyclopedic collection of facts about Tezuka Kunikazu’s online mystery novel reading group, about the local judo dojo which he ran (apparently also attended by several cabinet ministers and Shin Tokyo notables), and every drinking party held within Shinnihon Law Enforcement in the last six months.
Haginosuke switched off the flatscreen, looking disappointed. “It seems like Tezuka’s grandfather is the only one who ever uses this system for communications.”
“Does Tezuka Kuniharu even live here?” Keigo asked.
“Officially, no. Although his wife does, and I’m pretty sure Tezuka used to come back and visit even when he was active in Seigaku. Tezuka should still be in the Neue Bundesrepublik, at that neuromedical centre in Kapitalstadt.”
“Not for long, though. At least not according to Oshitari.”
“Yeah, Oshitari’s pretty reliable. Speaking of which,” Haginosuke narrowed his mismatched eyes, “would you be able to precog this area, get some information that way?”
“That’s a good idea.” He did a visual scan of the area, attempted to focus his mind in order to activate his psionic gift, only to find himself distracted by the sight of one of Haginosuke’s espionage insects, a tree cricket, resting on the other boy’s shoulder.
Haginosuke was gazing at him curiously. Keigo scowled and tried again.
This time he closed his eyes to get rid of visual stimuli. He stilled his mind, reached for -- and found himself wondering, with an alarm he had not felt earlier, about Oshitari’s premonition regarding his impending death.
It took a third failure for him to realise what was happening.
“It’s not going to work,” Keigo said. “I think this place has Immune cover.”
Haginosuke looked dumbfounded for a split second, but recovered quickly. “Well, that’s crap news.”
“What that implies is either they’ve paid an Immune to protect this house, meaning that there’s something to hide here, or someone living here is an Immune.”
“So either we should search this place from top to bottom, or get the hell out of here.”
“We’re staying,” Keigo said. “Put your insects on high alert.”
“They are already on high alert. But they won’t pick up anything that doesn’t come right onto the property, and once someone arrives it’ll be too late for us to get out of here.”
“Set your gun to taser.”
Haginosuke didn’t look happy about it, but he followed Keigo through the rest of the house.
Eventually Keigo paused at a doorway. “This must have been Tezuka’s room.”
Bare and neat as the rest of the house, the small bedroom nevertheless retained a certain anachronistic air, one that Keigo recognised from the times he and Sakaki travelled offplanet to visit the homes they’d lived in before he joined Hyoutei. While someone evidently kept the floor vacuumed and the shelves (built-in, filled with school trophies and fishing lures and a motley collection of rocks) dusted, there were no pillows on the bed. The wall monitor hanging above the desk in the corner was cycling through a series of pictures featuring Tezuka Kunimitsu when he was no more than thirteen or fourteen years old.
“Want me to break into that one as well?” Haginosuke offered.
“Please.”
Going by the dates on the stored messages, the inbox on this system had not been used in several years. The bulk of the stored mail was school correspondence, although there was a smattering of personal mail, including a terse note from Sanada Genichirou wishing Tezuka Merry Christmas, dated December 2465.
“There’s a letter from Yamato Yuudai,” Haginosuke said, pointing to the relevant heading with a manicured finger. Impatient, Keigo reached out to tap it open.
Sender: Yamato Yuudai [address concealed]
Subject: About our next meeting
Your father tells me that you have made up your mind. As you may have guessed, I was delighted to hear your decision.
Even now you may be feeling uncertainty. Know that it is worth it, Kunimitsu. I shall not lie; there will be many times when you will wonder whether you made the right choice. But believe in yourself, and I will also believe in you. Your father’s blood runs in your veins, after all. I believe that you will do more for this cause than I ever will.
I will introduce you to Ryuuzaki Sumire next week. As a warning, she is not aware of our prior acquaintance, or of my purpose in being at Seigaku. However, I think she will be sympathetic to our goals. One of our early goals will be to slowly acquaint her with our ideals for reform.
I look forward to working with you.
Keigo frowned. “Nothing we didn’t know in here,” he said dismissively. He scrolled through the rest. “Can you forward the all data on this system to my mailbox?”
“I can back it up to my infodevice. I already did that with the one in the main hall.”
Keigo sat on the bed, thinking, as Haginosuke performed the file transfer. From what what he remembered the Tezuka family had never been considered a significant player in politics. Unlike the Sanada family, which combined a military tradition older than Nippon itself with a a startling talent for high intrigue, Tezuka government employees were best-known for doing their job – and doing it very well. They had a reputation for integrity and loyalty that was second-to-none.
Blind dogs, Sakaki had once accused. But that had happened after Tezuka Kunikazu shut down one of Sakaki’s media companies for libel against the Cabinet.
Tezuka himself fit the archetype to a tee, at least insofar as Keigo knew him. But Tezuka’s father? You didn’t get very far in InSec without being a very good liar.
“We need to find out where Tezuka Kuniharu lives,” he mused.
“How is that going to help? I doubt he takes his work home with him.”
“I need—” To find out how much he knows about me, he added silently. He was not ready to discuss that with Haginosuke.
“Maybe we’re going about this the wrong way,” Haginosuke suggested. He dropped into a relaxed squat, arms folded at his knees. “Doesn’t the Tezuka family have enemies?”
“Sakaki.”
“No, I mean enemies with more power than that. What about within the government itself, or the great families? Every runner syndicate worth mentioning in Nippon has above-ground sponsors.”
Yes, and every last one of those sponsors has reason to want the dead Crown Prince dead again. He refused to reply. Irritation flitted across Haginosuke’s features.
The impasse was broken by Haginosuke’s wristcomm flashing bright violet. “Someone’s coming home.”
Immediately Keigo was at the door, opening it. “Let’s move out.”
Another light scintillated at Haginosuke’s wrist. “Wait,” Haginosuke said, with a sharp sudden note of panic. “Don’t—“ Then he drew his gun and a white electric pulse soared forth, missing Keigo's ear by centimetres.
A female voice spoke. “My husband is not a forgiving man. I suggest that you do not attack me.”
Keigo, who had drawn and aimed in the moment Haginosuke fired, stepped back, allowing the newcomer to enter the room.
Tezuka’s mother, he thought, she is Tezuka’s mother.
Medium height and slender, with no hint of customisation on her face, Tezuka Ayana exuded a deceptive air of fragile feminity. Appearing not to notice that two firearms were trained on her, she bowed to both of them.
“It’s an honour to meet you at last, Keigo-sama.” She was dressed in a plain lilac kimono. A silver floral pin rested in her hair bun. “And you too, what is your name?” When they did not lower their guns, she continued, “Be at ease. There is no one else in the house.”
She extended one hand gracefully, and a black dragonfly whirred from her palm across the room to perch on Haginosuke’s forehead. One of Haginosuke’s espionage insects.
“Sit down,” said Tezuka Ayana. She took the desk chair, but motioned towards the floor.
Keigo signalled to Haginosuke that he should put away his weapon and take a seat, then did the same himself. “How do you know who I am?” asked Keigo.
“Shouldn’t I?” Ayana smiled. “Your father and I have been good friends for a very long time.” Seeing the alarm on his face, she added, “Your adoptive father, I mean.”
“You’re friends with Sakaki?”
“Sakaki is your adopted father?” Haginosuke said, incredulous. Then, in a different voice: “Oh, of course he is. I don’t know why I didn’t see it before.”
“Sakaki’s never told me about this.” Keigo watched Ayana’s face carefully.
“That man,” she murmured. “So intelligent, and yet he has no idea how to read people. You’re much better with that skill, aren’t you, Keigo-sama?”
She was challenging him, he felt that. But in what way? He studied her face, reached out with a tendril of telepathic energy, and met... Blankness.
“You’re an Immune,” he breathed. “You’re the Immune. The one who’s protecting InSec.”
A curve of her lips.
He reached for his holster. “You realise that I’ll have to neutralise you,” he said coldly. Bad enough that Rikkai had Kirihara; but if InSec continued to strike without warning like they had the other day--
She said gently: “Keigo-sama, haven’t you ever wondered how you managed to go undiscovered all these years?”
Haginosuke was looking at them, perplexed; Keigo felt like his head was exploding. I knew Sakaki had arranged for some sort of psionic protection, but I never really questioned where it was coming from.
But there were so few people with true Immune gifts; even the old man himself only had one in his employ, whom he kept on his person at all time...
“How can I believe you?” Keigo asked finally.
She reached into her kimono and pulled out a tiny crystal infodevice, dialling a number.
The person who answered sounded surprised, possibly suspicious. “Ayana?”
It was Sakaki’s voice.
“That’s enough,” Keigo snapped. “I’m convinced.”
There was a long pause. “Keigo. What are you doing with Ayana?” Sakaki’s tone was restrained, but a hint of warning bled through. “Don’t hurt her.”
Ayana was unperturbed. “You’re overreacting, Tarou. Keigo-sama is just startled.”
Keigo said, “There’s no point in leaving the enemy with a strategic advantage.”
When Sakaki spoke again, it was with a strong streak of sarcasm. “How strange, Keigo; I managed to control Hyoutei for about five decades without a trace of precognition skill or even the option of hiring precognitives. And yet I find you reduced to a blubbering wreck, not even a week after your psionic abilities have failed you.”
Keigo would not usually have argued, especially in public. But there was anger at Sakaki’s having concealed something as important as this from him. “For something that’s been in your care for five decades, Hyoutei doesn’t seem to rank very high on your priority list. Do you honestly not care that InSec might launch an aerial attack at any moment? Or does Ayana-san here provide you with all the InSec information you need?”
“Keigo.” The tone brooked no discussion. “You owe Ayana a great deal. Possibly your life. Certainly your freedom. ”
“You told me you had stopped providing Immune cover for me, that there was no need to.”
“I stopped paying someone to do it. That was because Ayana found out and offered to protect you herself.”
“Why?” Keigo asked, looking at the petite woman.
Her face softened. “You may not remember me, Keigo, but I carried you in my arms when you were just a baby.”
“So you feel some maternal urge to protect me, but you’re happy to help your husband’s underlings slaughter me if that’s what it takes. What an admirable family instinct.”
Her long-lashed eyes lost their serenity. “I sent my son to the streets, knowing that you were there, knowing that the best children of your generation are learning to live with violence and uncertainty and lawlessness. Do you think I wanted any of you to be there? Or do you think this is the way that you ought to live? Tarou has taught you very badly if that is the case.”
“Ayana—“ She disconnected the call, cutting off communication with Sakaki.
“Long before Sakaki taught me anything,” Keigo said quietly, “another teacher of mine showed me that living above the law is far worse than anything outside the law can be.”
“That’s true as well.” This time there was empathy in her face. “But nevertheless, the law ought to be just, and all of us should be subject to it. Without exception.”
“You’re a Tezuka through and through.”
“I married into the right family.” She had regained her initial, all-consuming poise, but there was an air of expectancy around her that Keigo would have probed telepathically, if he were able. She wanted – something, out of this conversation.
“Does your husband know about me?”
Ayana hesitated. “I have not told him,” she said. “He may have developed suspicions, if he is not too busy with other things. But he has not mentioned it to me.”
“I’m sure Hyoutei and Rikkai are under intense scrutiny from InSec at the moment.”
Ayana shook her head. “Perhaps you don’t understand this, having left the palace long before you got to know most of us – in fact, before half the court even knew you existed – but in our world, the only thing we care to know about a runner syndicate is which political power controls it. In the case of Hyoutei, it is Sakaki Tarou. In the case of Rikkai, it is the Sanada clan. And with Seigaku, it is Echizen Rinko. Rinko was only persuaded to my husband’s cause when her own son chose to become a runner. None of our plans were possible before that happened.”
“If the syndicates themselves are so insigificant, why send your only son to become a runner? You can’t tell me you sent him there for four years, risking his life, just to amuse yourself.”
“How can you change a world that you don’t understand? Whatever you may think about the Tezuka family, Keigo, we do not like being hypocrites. We wished to enter the world of the runners, become a part of it.”
“And gain political ammunition against the Cabinet ministers and the aristocrats who were involved in runner activity.”
“Tezuka only passed my husband information that was relevant to the mission that was given to him. He has never even mentioned you by name to us, Keigo.”
“Are you trying to win me over?” asked Keigo.
“Do you think you can be won over?”
He closed his eyes, breathed in slowly. Then he looked straight at her. “There is no place within the law for me,” he told her. “I was born above it, and I will live outside it.”
She nodded. “I thought that might be the case. I think it would be best if you left now, before my father-in-law comes back.”
She saw them to the front door. Just before they left she said, “Keigo-sama. If you ever want to ask any questions, please call me. You can get my number from Tarou, he will give it to you.”
Keigo didn’t look back.
“So I think we need to talk,” drawled Haginosuke, as they glided into the rooftop garage at headquarters.
Keigo dismounted and thumbed open the internal access to his apartments. “You’re not the one who decides when we get to talk. Nor are you the ones who decides what information you are privy to or not.”
“Sure, then. I’ll just go straight to Gakuto and have a little chat with him about this. Tell him that our fearless president is actually some secret lovechild from very, very high up and that even Tezuka’s own mother calls him sama. There are only about half a dozen families that are actually that important in the whole of Nippon, so I’m sure we’ll figure it out eventually, even if we’re not very bright—“
Keigo spun, yanked at Haginosuke’s silk shirt, and slammed him up against the wall of the garage.
His knuckles ground against the smaller boy’s sternum, prompting a yelp of pain. “Okay, I get the point, I’ll back off.” Once Keigo’s hold relaxed, he added, “But don’t you think it’s a security risk for us, if we don’t know what we’re facing?”
“If you knew,” Keigo said, “you wouldn’t want me here anymore. You’d think I was a liability.”
He let go. Haginosuke straightened his shirt. “Maybe,” his voice was husky, “I wouldn’t want you here anymore. But I would go with you.” When Keigo cast a bemused gaze on him, he added, “Not just me. I think Oshitari and Shishido would too. And you know Jirou and Kabaji would follow you to the ends of the universe.”
“So what are you suggesting, that I dismantle Hyoutei?”
“Not dismantle it. Move it. Or – expand its operations. The ones who like the idea of decriminalisation can stay. The ones who don’t, well, we can go with you. It’s not like Sakaki doesn’t have interests in about fifteen or sixteen star systems.”
“What about the work that we do here?”
“I’m sure Sakaki will manage to restructure it somehow. I imagine Tezuka Kuniharu has got some sort of sensible plan for all of it; he’d hardly try to get rid of runner syndicates just to let the economy of Nippon collapse in a week. It’s really not that bad an idea you know.” Haginosuke pursed his lips. “You like Hyoutei, but that’s because you’re in charge here and you don’t really see what happens on the ground. The streets of Nippon are a bloody mess, Keigo. I think we help more than we hurt, but you have to admit we don’t help very much at all.”
But the streets are honest, Keigo thought. They have never lied to me. They have never pretended to love me. And they have never tried to make me become what I am not.
But the longer he thought about it, the more he acknowledged the truth of Haginosuke’s words. He didn’t know the streets, not really. Sakaki had always protected him from the reality of them.
“In a different world,” Haginosuke said, watching Keigo’s face, “Kotoha would still be alive.”
Grief bloomed then, in a way that it had not since he first found the girl’s body. “I knew her,” he said. “When I was with Sakaki – before I joined Hyoutei. Her family was wealthy. It was foolish of her to become a runner.”
“Do you even know why she did it?” Haginosuke asked, the accusation in his voice now laid bare. “Do you know why I became a runner? Or why Shishido became a runner? Not everyone takes to the syndicates because their adopted father is a business mogul, you know. Or because they’re insanely psionic like Oshitari. Or because they’re just ambitious, like Hiyoshi. Most of us have no choice.” He came to a stop suddenly, as if he’d suddenly run out of breath to speak. His cheeks were flushed.
Keigo said, “But you would choose to come with me.”
Haginosuke lifted his chin. His natural eye was damp. “Yes, I would. We all would, except maybe Hiyoshi.”
“So maybe I should leave Hiyoshi behind, get him to lead Hyoutei under the new regime."
“Does that mean – that you’ve –“
“I haven’t decided anything at all,” Keigo said warningly. He headed down the steps into his rooms.
As he walked into his apartment he was greeted by the sight of three of his squadron leaders lounging in the sitting room. Kabaji, Oshitari and Shishido. A half-dozen or so empty beer cans lay scattered across the floor, and another six-pack sat on the coffee table, still untouched.
They were an odd trio to be sitting and drinking together, even if they were unofficially the highest ranking of the squadron leaders. More to the point, they had invaded his quarters without permission.
Oshitari spotted him first. “Ah, Atobe.” The First Squadron leader stood up, his cheeks flushed. “You’re here sooner than expected, I thought we were going to run out of alcohol.”
“What the hell are the three of you doing?” Keigo said, almost too surprised to speak harshly. “It’s the middle of the day, and I left you in charge, Oshitari.”
“Do it before I lose my nerve,” Oshitari said dreamily, “I have a splitting headache already.”
One second Kabaji’s hand had closed around his forearm, hard, and the next he was flying through the air and landing belly-up on the carpet, his arms twisted painfully behind his back.
“Kabaji, what is the meaning of this?” When that did nothing he attempted to twist out of his friend's grapple-hold, lashing out telepathically at Kabaji’s mind at the same time.
Sorry about this, Atobe. Oshitari’s voice in his mind, sleek and powerful and overwhelming. Go to sleep now.
Somewhere in the black fog that immediately descended on his consciousness he thought quite clearly, Damn it, I always knew Oshitari was holding back. Then his mind drifted.
On to side-story: He and You.
