Help me, I need some comments!
This is the first part of a BGC fic I'm currently working on. It's a
follow-up to a fic I wrote 2-3 years ago, called "True Love" (which can be
found on my web page, at http://jhedge.simplenet.com , or in the RAAC
archive). "True Love" takes place in the time period between BGCrisis and
BGCrash. This fic, working title "True Lies" (although that's probably
going to change), begins within an hour of the ending of "True Love".
Anyway, comments and criticism, public or private, is always welcome.
-- Jeanne Hedge
***********************
-- Listar MIME Decryption --------------
When war is declared, Truth is the first casualty.
--Arthur Ponsonby
The young woman entered the dimly lit room and crossed to a row
of divided cubicles similar to those seen in professional sports
locker rooms. Dropping wearily into a cushioned chair in the second
cubicle from the left, she rested a moment, head back, eyes closed.
After several moments she stood and slowly began to remove her
clothing, a one-piece bodysuit with pink legs that resembled a dark-
colored leotard and tights. Turning, she exited the room through a
doorway to the left, tossing her clothing into a hamper as she passed.
She took a leisurely shower, allowing the warm spray to wash
away the sweat, pound away the aches and pains from the activity of
the past few hours. Images of the night flashed through her mind: her
friends arguing, the interminable time spent in hiding and then
chasing the target through the alleyways of the city, the look of pain
on his face melting into one of arrogance. She shuddered slightly to
herself as her final image of him came into her thoughts. What had
she been thinking?
Shower finished, she wrapped one towel around her shoulder-
length red hair, and dried herself with another. Wrapping a third
towel about herself, she returned to the locker room, dried her hair
and then donned street clothes. A glance in the mirror led to her
freshening her makeup. Ready to face the world, she strode quickly
out of the room and rode the nearby elevator to the building's
penthouse.
"Hello, Nene."
Nene Romanova jumped slightly as a woman's voice came from the
dark living room of the penthouse apartment. *Idiot,* she chided
herself mentally as she realized who it was and stepped into the room.
"Hi, Sylia. Mind if I turn the lights up a bit?"
"No, I've got it. Come in." Sylia Stingray touched a small
control panel set into the wall near where she stood gazing out at the
MegaTokyo skyline. Nene sat on one end of the sofa as the lights
brightened slightly to a dim glow, and closed her eyes. She felt
spent, physically and emotionally.
"How's Linna?" Nene asked sleepily. The last she'd seen of her
Knight Sabers' teammate, Linna had a massive headache from being shot
in the head. While the round had deflected off her helmet's visor,
there had been enough force from the impact to knock her from her
feet.
"She's in the guest room. She should be all right, but I felt
better keeping her here tonight. Priss is watching her."
"Umm..... good idea," came Nene's drowsy reply, then it struck
her. "What's Priss doing here?"
"She was sitting in the suit room when we returned. I didn't
ask how she got away from her 'keepers', and she didn't volunteer
anything."
Nene came to her feet, and joined Sylia at the window. The two
Knight Sabers stood side by side in silence for several minutes. "Did
everything go all right?" Sylia finally asked.
"Huh? Oh, yeah. Everything's fine." The final look of
surprise and terror on his face came to Nene's mind's eye once again.
"We won't have to worry about Kusanagi Rei any more."
TRUE LIES
A Sequel to "True Love"
"...and now, here's Hayashi-san with a special report on the
recent series of daring daylight strikes by the armor-suited bank
robbers. Who are they? What do they want? Are they members of the
same group that struck four banks earlier this year, only to be foiled
by the brave actions of the AD Police? Hayashi-san, what can you tell
us about this tonight?"
"Thank you, Nakajima-san. I'm standing outside Glory Bank, the
first bank robbed during the Illegal Army's crime wave several months
ago, and struck again yesterday by this new band of criminals.
According to Chief of Detectives Tsukiyama Naoko, the "N-police" will
soon have this case solved. In an exclusive intervi--"
The click of the button silenced the reporter mid-word as Nene
Romanova, tired of the ceaseless prattle of the newsies, turned off
the small radio on her desk. Although they'd only been active for two
weeks, the robbers had already hit ten banks, and a sensationalistic
media were playing the story for everything it was worth.
Nene was bored with it already, and wished they'd find something
else to talk about. Maybe a juicy political scandal would do the
trick.
The Knight Sabers could probably wrap it all up in one night,
she mused as she set up the parameters of yet another search routine
for the AD Police computers (output to be directed to a special dummy
account she'd created for such purposes from the account of an
unsuspecting Chief Morita via the Maintenance Department's system,
with all time and resource charges to be sent to the Traffic
Division), but with Sylia not due back from Germany for another two
weeks she knew nothing would happen on that front. Priss and Linna
might be bold and daring in the field, but neither of them was
reckless enough to take the Knight Sabers out without their leader
unless it was a dire emergency or Sylia ordered them to do it.
Nene, yawning, stretched in her chair and glanced around the
nearly empty room. She'd worked the midnight-to-eight shift before,
but that didn't mean she had to like it. Another yawn, and she tapped
the hot-key sequence on her keyboard, enabling her special security
lock-outs, then stood and left the office. There might be some
drinkable tea or coffee left down in the cafeteria, but she wasn't
holding her breath.
* * *
"Ah, Chief Tsukiyama, I hope you are well this afternoon. How
may I be of assistance today?" The owner bowed deeply as Tsukiyama
Noriko, Chief of Detectives for the Tokyo Metropolitan Police
Department, and her entourage stepped into the small, out of the way
coffee shop. She felt lucky to have gotten out of the office with
only three bodyguards, a driver who doubled as her fourth guard, and
her personal assistant. The 'parade' was usually a lot larger, and
two of the men had remained with the car, so she felt less self-
conscious than usual as she returned his greetings.
"Something out of the way, Takiyama," she told the retired
detective as she took her briefcase from her assistant. Takiyama had
been one of her men back in the days when she was in charge of the
detectives based out of the very busy Shinjuku precinct. He'd opened
this shop after taking early retirement, and Tsukiyama knew he was a
lot happier now than when he'd been on the department.
"If you'll come with me, I've a table that's perfect for your
needs," he said, leading her and one of her guards to a table deeper
into the building. Her assistant and another of the guards took seats
at the counter near the door. "Two walls to your back, you can see
well enough but it will be difficult for others to see you." The
guard performed an electronic scan of the area, nodded, and then sat
at a table near the rear entrance after his Chief made herself
comfortable at her table. "Will anyone be joining you today?"
"Two American coffees, and leave the pot," she replied shortly,
her order answering his question. After the coffee was delivered she
began reviewing a sheaf of papers from her briefcase, attaching her
seal to some, her signature to others. Tsukiyama was involved in her
work, but not so much that she wasn't aware of things going on around
her. She felt more than heard someone approach, and returned the
paperwork to the briefcase before looking up. It was a man of average
height and gray hair, nothing about him that would attract attention.
Well, almost nothing.
"Morita, you still come up with some of the most god-awful
combinations to wear. I swear, a blind man by himself could dress
with more style than you."
"You still blowing all of your paycheck on designer stuff that
your husband doesn't notice and your partner doesn't care about?" he
shot back with a smile as he slipped into the seat across from hers.
"Of course, there *are* all those pretty young men to show off for."
"Come on, Morita, don't they pay you any better over at AD
Police? Can't your wife do *something* about your wardrobe? Maybe
you'd better come back to MPD where the pay's better."
"No, I don't think so, it would be too embarrassing. You beat
me up too much. A gray-haired lady pounding on a gray-haired man?
It'd look like someone's grandparents were having a fight."
"And someone would call the police."
"And one of those bright young men of yours would show up and
get all embarrassed for having to bring his Chief in."
"You're right. It *would* be too embarrassing."
Companionable conversation filled the air for a long while as
the two senior officers drank their coffee. "Well, Nori-chan," Morita
said as he emptied the coffeepot, "I don't think you've asked me here
just to catch up over a cup of coffee. So what does the N-Police want
from ADP?"
Tsukiyama frowned as she sipped from her nearly empty cup. "You
know how I hate that name, Morita."
"Nori-chan?" he replied with feigned surprise. "I've called you
that for years."
"You used to be a part of the organization, Kazuya," she said,
jabbing a finger into the vicinity of his face for emphasis, "and you
know what I mean. Please show some respect."
Morita smiled slightly in response. A lot had changed about
both of them over the years, but some things about Tsukiyama Noriko
would never change. "So what does the Metropolitan Police want from
the AD Police?"
Tsukiyama removed a datadisk from her briefcase and set it on
the table, tapping it with a finger. "This is going through channels
right now, and the request is probably going to be on your desk when
you get back. I wanted to talk about it informally first." She
sighed, and ran her fingers through her shoulder-length hair, pushing
it out of her face. "It's those bank robbers, the guys with the
armored suits. We've got a good handle on who it is, but their gear
is mil-spec, and that makes them a bit too much for us to handle by
ourselves. Think the ADP might be able to help us out?"
"I don't see why not," Morita replied after a slight pause,
"although that sort of thing isn't strictly in my jurisdiction. I'm
Chief of Investigations, not Chief of the Department."
"Our request is that any assistance be coordinated through
Investigations, the thought being that Detective Division and
Investigations would be able to work together better. Or at least
speak the same language." Tsukiyama grimaced. "I swear, I have
problems following the techies when they really get going these days."
"I'm sorry to hear you've gotten so old, Nori-chan," Morita
riposted with another smile, then winced as Tsukiyama reached across
the table and smacked the side of his head. "Ow! I knew there was a
reason thinking of the old days bring back painful memories!" He
chuckled, then became serious again. "In that case, would you like
some people to help out with that heavy hardware? Maybe a tac squad
or two? I'm going to send you a liaison officer, regardless."
"You take a look at our information," she said, pushing the
datadisk toward him, "and send that liaison over to take a look at
what we've got. The three of us can work out the numbers then. OK?"
"Fine," he replied, picking up the datadisk and putting it into
his sport coat's inner jacket pocket.
* * *
"I think we should call Sylia."
"I don't think it's that serious, Nene," Linna Yamazaki replied.
"It *is* only copy-cat bank robbers and not more Illegal Army people,
after all. If the ADP and the N-police are working together on this,
they should be able to handle things without our help."
"It's not just the robberies, Linna. They're terrorists. You
know what OIL did last year, with the family of that guy from the
Finance Ministry."
"That's true," she admitted with a sigh. She looked across the
room, to where Priss Asagiri stood gazing out the windows of the
Stingray penthouse, unconsciously echoing the contemplative stance
she'd often seen from the building's owner. "What do you think,
Priss?"
"Well," Priss began slowly, as if gathering her thoughts, "I
don't know." She turned from the windows and joined the other two
women in the apartment's conversation pit. "Nene, are you sure their
hardware's stuff from the SDF? The way the media operates, you'd
think something like that would be all over the place."
"That's good info," Nene assured her. "Members of the Okinawa
Independence League broke into a Self Defense Force storage depot a
couple months ago and made off with several armored suits, *and* the
gear to arm and maintain them. The SDF's been freaking out over it,
but they haven't been able to catch up with the people who did it.
The government decided to keep a lid on the story because it would be
embarrassing internationally, but they would sure love to see the
stuff back under SDF lock-and-key. There's some indication that other
things are missing too, what's called 'non-standard shortages,' but I
haven't been able to confirm what that might be. SDF Intelligence
thinks they've got a mole on their hands, which is why the government
warned the police off from going to them for help."
"An inside job, eh?" Priss said. "So what are those guys really
up to then? There's got to be more to it than just robbing banks."
"Believe it or not, robbing banks for the cash and making fools
of the government by using what's obviously SDF equipment seem to be
their main objectives. Nobody's been able to find a *hint* that
anything else might be going on."
"So if it's so under control, then why do you think this is
worth bothering Sylia in the middle of her vacation for?" Linna asked
again.
"Because nobody's been able to find anything else going on
besides the obvious. I'm good, but Sylia's better, and I just don't
think this is all that it appears to be on the face of it. Besides,
who knows what that non-standard shortage business is all about."
"Why Nene-chan, I'm surprised. You admit there's something the
hacker-supreme can't do?" Nene blushed a furious crimson as Priss
smiled at her benignly.
"No, I didn't say I couldn't do it. I just said Sylia's
better," she shot back indignantly. "Besides, you *know* she's got
connections we can only dream about." Nene stood, and started up the
steps into the main area of the apartment. "Now, I'm going to call
Sylia. Are you interested or not?"
"Oh, all right," Linna said resignedly, "but it's your head if
she gets mad about you bothering her on her vacation." She glanced at
her wrist watch. "And you'd better hurry. The communications window
opens in seven minutes, and if we miss it you're going to have to hold
it until the window opens again next week."
Nene waved over her shoulder as she trotted out of the room to
retrieve the special communications equipment Sylia had readied in
case they needed to reach her. While they awaited her return, Linna
turned to Priss, who had leaned back and closed her eyes. "You've
been kind of quiet today. Are you feeling all right?" Having had a
ringside seat for Priss's difficult recovery from an assassination
attempt several months earlier, Linna had become especially sensitive
to the state of Priss's health.
Priss sighed. "Yeah, I'm fine. There was something I wanted to
ask Nene about, but then she went off on this bank thing and I didn't
get a chance."
"Is it important? Something we should tell Sylia about? Or
maybe you can ask her about it later."
Priss opened her eyes and gazed at Linna for a few seconds.
"Not that important, at least not enough to bother Sylia. It'll
keep."
"You sure?" Priss nodded in reply. Linna studied her partner
for a few moments, then said under her breath, "I think we'll talk
about this later," as Nene reappeared in the doorway.
* * *
A tap on the door interrupted his concentration as Morita Kazuya
tried to make sense of the department's computer usage reports. He
was certainly happy to not be in the traffic division; the paperwork
was bad in Investigations, but those people must *live* for report
generation. "You wanted to see me, Chief?"
"Ah, McNichol," Morita waved a negligent hand toward the chairs
in front of his desk, "have a seat. Coffee?"
"Uh... sure, okay." Leon McNichol sat while his chief called
the commissary to order a pot of the beverage. Morita was a hard one
to figure out, Leon thought. He'd transferred from the N-Police about
the same time the ADP was established, but Leon hadn't ever heard much
about him. The grapevine said he was a good cop who backed his people
up in public and kept the dirty linen private, but made sure you heard
about it if you screwed up. Leon had already found the hard way that
he had an uncanny knack for knowing when corners were being cut or
someone was stepping over the line.
But since being made Chief of Investigations a few months
earlier, not too long after the twin near-disasters at the fusion
plant and the boomer revolt that the Knight Sabers had dealt with,
Morita had cleaned house. The deadwood were either finding new life
or being pruned away, and that alone had managed to revive morale from
its apathetic low. Leon had found himself liking his chief's style,
despite the occasional crimp it put in his own style, and was looking
forward to seeing what he was going to do next.
After making the order, Morita came from behind the desk and sat
in the other chair, next to Leon. "So, how are things going with
you?" he asked the younger detective. "Any interesting cases? What--
well, that was fast," he interrupted himself as a second knock sounded
on his door announced the speedy arrival of the coffee.
The two men talked as they drank, and Leon found himself
wondering what was going on. Morita might be a good guy, but being
invited to talk about his case load over a cup of coffee with his
chief was a little on the unusual side. Still, Leon found himself
opening up as he discussed some of the more unusual aspects of the
job, and Morita spoke of his own days as a street detective.
"It sounds like your partner was some piece of work," Leon said,
laughing in remembrance of Morita's description one of his former
partner's wild efforts to solve a murder case with methods that
included charging into the booths at a tanning salon after the
suspect. "I think I'd like to meet her some time."
"Oh, I think that can be arranged," Morita replied with a slight
smile on his face. "I understand your own partner is taking some
vacation time over the next couple weeks."
"Yeah, Daley's going to Hawaii to visit some relatives or
something," Leon answered, trying to reconcile his Chief's sudden
change of subject.
"Good. That makes things easier." Morita rose smoothly to his
feet and recircled the desk, taking his seat behind it. "Leon
McNichol, effective tomorrow you are assigned to temporary duty as
liaison between this office and that of the Chief of Detectives of the
Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department."
Leon almost dropped his coffee in shock. "The N-Police?" What
did I do to deserve *this*? Leon thought, suddenly angry at this
betrayal.
"I need someone for a joint special project, and since your
partner's away you're available."
"Daley can change his plans then, because I'm not going to go
baby-sit the N-Police!" Leon came to his feet and strode angrily
toward the office door.
"Shut up, McNichol. Sit down."
"--another thing coming. I'm not about to--"
"I *said* shut up. Get back here. Sit down. Don't make me
tell you a third time."
Leon reached the door and grabbed the knob. "--a bunch of
whiney--" He twisted the knob, but the door wouldn't open. "--good
for nothing--" He rattled the knob again, then turned and looked at
the man seated behind the desk in surprise. "Hey, I can't get the
door open!"
"Electronic locks. Now get your butt back here, sit down, and
shut up."
Grudgingly, Leon slowly returned to the desk and sat down, his
face a thundercloud of anger. "What did I do to deserve this?"
"Believe it or not, McNichol, it's not a punishment," Morita
replied placidly. "They've made a formal request for assistance, and
you're going to make sure they get what they need to do their job.
Route your requests for equipment and personnel through me, but be
sure to clear it with Chief Tsukiyama first. She's funny that way."
"A micro-manager. Great. Just what I need," Leon grumped.
"Don't close your mind to this, McNichol, and you just might
learn something. Nori-chan's a good person to work with."
Leon's mouth dropped open. "Nori-ch...?" he said as his anger-
fogged mind finally made the connection.
"Well, you did say you wanted to meet my old partner some day."
* * *
"All right, Nene, I've got places to be, you know." Priss slid
across the restaurant table's bench seat, opposite Nene. After
getting a cup of coffee from the waitress, she added, "What's so
important that it couldn't wait?"
"Wait until Linna gets here, and all will be revealed," Nene
said mysteriously.
"Jesus, you're cocky these days. Where's all this attitude
coming from?"
"Just learning from the very best, Priss. Between you and Leon,
there's attitude to spare. Too bad ape-people like you don't have the
brains to back it up."
"Why you--"
"OK Priss, don't cause a scene." Linna, having heard most of
Priss's side of the conversation while walking across the coffee shop,
dropped onto the seat next to her. "And keep your voices down. I
heard the owner of this place used to be in the police, and I don't
want to give him a reason to take an interest in us." Linna had
ordered coffee as she entered the shop, and now paused as it was
delivered.
"All right, Nene," she continued, echoing Priss's earlier
question, "what's going on?"
"It's about those bank robbers. Th--"
"Them again?" complained Priss, a disgusted look on her face.
"Sylia told us not to worry about it."
"She told us not to *do* anything about them, to let the police
handle it for now. That's totally different from not worrying about
them."
Priss opened her mouth to respond, but Linna beat her to it.
"What is *with* you two today? Let it go, Priss; you know she's
right." She turned to her younger companion. "OK, Nene, what's
happened?"
Nene smiled at her modest "victory". "Remember how the N-Police
went to the ADP for help? Guess who got assigned to liaison duty.
Leon!"
"Leon? Working for the N-Police?" Linna said in considerable
surprise. Priss just dropped her head into her hands.
"Oh, no no no. He's going to be hanging around the club and
moaning for sympathy for weeks now!" she groaned. "Why me?"
Nene and Linna both snickered at Priss's histrionics. "It won't
be so bad," the ADP officer responded. "When I heard he's going to be
working directly for their Chief of Detectives, I read her file.
She's pretty impressive, and I suspect she's going to keep him too
busy to have time to be hanging around the club." Nene leaned forward
conspiratorially. "In fact, I think Leon's about to have an
unscheduled attitude adjustment, at least where the N-Police is
concerned."
When the laughter subsided, Priss asked Nene, "OK, so Leon's got
a new assignment. That better not be all you've got."
After filling the other two in on the general details of the
joint project and some of the proposed transfers of personnel and
equipment, Nene glanced at her watch, then removed a datadisk from her
jacket pocket. "I've got to run. The Chief is really keeping us
hopping lately, especially with this project going on." She tapped
the disk with her fingers. "Will one of you take this info over to
Sylia's and load it into the system? I've got to get back to the
office."
"Yeah, sure, I can do that," Linna replied, taking the disk from
the table. "I've got to be over in that area this afternoon anyway."
"OK, good. Well, I've got to run-- hey! Priss, let go!"
Priss had reached across the table and grabbed her arm. "Just
hang on a second, will ya? There's something I want to talk to you
about."
"Can't it wait? I don't want to be late getting back."
"I think you can wait a few minutes, can't you?" Linna asked,
having some idea of what Priss wanted to discuss from their
conversation of a few days earlier. "After all, you've never had a
problem... 'adjusting' things before."
"I didn't have Chief Morita around before either." Nene settled
back down onto the bench. "All right," she sighed, "I guess I can
stay a couple more minutes. What's up?"
"It's about... him. Kusanagi." Priss closed her eyes for a
long moment and took a deep breath, as if gathering herself for some
ordeal, then continued. It's been months since you guys turned him
over to the police, but I've not heard a word from anyone about a
trial."
"I did a search of the news archives for the past year, but the
only mention of him was as having been arrested in conjunction with
the attack on Priss," Linna contributed. "Other than that, nothing."
"And I contacted the prosecutor's office, but they don't have
any record of the case," Priss concluded. "This has gotten more than
weird. Can you find out what's going on?"
"Priss, why don't you ask Leon," Nene suggested. "I'm sure he'd
love to do you a favor like that."
"I already thought of that," Priss replied. "He said it was out
of his jurisdiction, and he couldn't do it. When I said that
jurisdiction hadn't ever stopped him before, he said that he'd never
had Chief Morita around before."
"Well, he's right. The Chief is a real stickler about that sort
of thing. He seems to *know* when Leon's even thinking about doing
something against regulations." Nene grinned. "You should have seen
him this morning, trying to get all his paperwork done before he
leaves for his assignment. Leon *never* does his own paperwork."
"The Chief doesn't need to know about this. All you have to do
is add something else to all those data searches I know you do all the
time," Priss prodded.
"Yeah, but that's only stuff Sylia tells me to do."
"So do it as a police search," suggested Linna.
"Not without permission. The Chief would kill me if he found
out."
"Now wait a minute," Priss began hotly as she tried to stand,
stopped only by Linna's restraining hand on her arm. She dropped back
into her seat and continued in a lower tone of voice, "You won't do
this search at work because it's against regulations and you might get
caught, and you wouldn't do it anyway because Sylia didn't tell you
to? What's wrong with you?" Priss turned to Linna, whose wide blue
eyes reflected her own surprise.
"What's wrong with this picture, Linna? Little Miss Cyberpunk
is refusing to look up information? Little Miss Cyberpunk is refusing
to do something that I know she does all the time... even when Sylia
tells her not to."
"Now wait one minute," came Nene's angry reply. "I never do any
hacking without direct orders from Sylia."
"That's good to hear," Linna interjected, trying to play
peacemaker on yet another occasion. "I know Sylia would appreciate
hearing that. But Nene, this isn't hacking that Priss is asking for.
She just wants you to check some records. Can't you--?"
Nene slid from the table and stood. "No, I can't. Not now."
And in a quieter voice, "I'm sorry," as she turned and headed for the
door, leaving her astonished friends behind.
"We'll see about that," Priss muttered.
* * *
"Sylia!"
At the sound of her name, Sylia Stingray stopped and looked
toward the doors separating the Customs area from the rest of the
airport. A smiling Linna Yamazaki stood just outside the barrier,
waving at her.
Sylia waved slightly in acknowledgment, and resumed her path
through the maze of Customs inspection stations. Once she'd
successfully negotiated that treacherous path, she made her way though
the throngs of weary travelers and those there to meet them, to the
one there to meet her.
"Welcome home, Sylia!" Linna wrapped her in an enthusiastic hug
of greeting, then grabbed the handle of Sylia's luggage cart and led
the way to the exit.
"Thank you, Linna. That was quite a welcome." Linna grinned,
and Sylia smiled in response. "You know, I hadn't really expected
anyone to meet me."
"Well, it's the least I could do. I mean, it would be cruel to
make you have to drag all this stuff onto the train or a taxi or
something! Now then," Linna continued as they reached the exit, "you
wait right here, and I'll get my car from the lot. Shouldn't be more
than five or ten minutes. See ya!"
By the time Linna returned, Sylia was deep into the afternoon
edition of the local newspaper. The lead story was yet another bank
robbery, and the editorial was calling for the resignation of the
chief of police.
"Still going on?" Sylia asked from the car's passenger seat,
indicating the news story, while Linna arranged her luggage in the
back seat.
"What? Oh that, yeah. Your computers have been updated."
Luggage finally stored properly, Linna climbed in, put the car in
gear, and pulled into traffic. "Nene and Priss couldn't get away, but
they send their love and they'll see you this evening."
"Priss? Sending her love? Now aren't you exaggerating a little
bit?"
"Well, maybe a little," Linna said with a grin. "But you know
what I mean. She's really happy that you're back, and the rest of us
are too." Linna deftly maneuvered her small car around a slower car
that insisted on doing the speed limit, and into the highway's express
lanes. "Why don't you relax a bit, maybe take a nap. Can't have you
falling asleep at your own party now, can we?"
* * *
"Who would have thought the little pervert would run off to
Germany and discover anime?"
The group of young women seated around the kitchen table laughed
together with the ease of old friends. Although they had not known
each other all that long, only a bit over three years, the trials they
had undergone together had forged a closeness seldom seen among those
without long association. Soldiers in combat, relying on each other
for their lives, had a similar fellow-feeling. These women were
soldiers of a sort as well. They were the Knight Sabers of MegaTokyo,
together again after far too many months apart.
The subject of their laughter, a young man in his late teens,
brother to the eldest of the group and of amorous interest to the
youngest, had recently left his Japanese homeland to study in Germany.
But while overseas, his interests had taken a most unusual turn: never
really interested in it at home, he had "discovered" the art of
Japanese animation while in Germany and had become a devoted fan of
several animated television series imported from Japan.
"What can I say?" Sylia replied to her friend's comment with a
shrug. "Mackie claims the subtitles the fans have added to the disks
have improved his reading comprehension in German."
"He's probably over there watching porno flicks to improve his
German too, the little pervert."
"Stop calling him that, Priss! He's not!"
Priss and Linna exchanged looks of disbelief at the younger
woman's outburst. "I didn't hear you making those claims those times
he was trying to look at you in the dressing room, Nene. Why the
change?" Linna questioned.
"Because he's not, that's why!" Nene shot back hotly, a blush
spreading on her face that quickly threatened to match the color of
her fiery red hair.
"Why Nene-chan, I do believe you have the hots for the little
pervert. I bet you can't wait for him to come home so you can play
pervert games with him." Taunting and teasing Nene were among Priss's
favorite pastimes, and she rarely let an opportunity this ready-made
go. Especially given Nene's recent attitude towards her.
"All right, Priss, that's enough," Sylia warned as she stood,
then yawned. "It's late, and while I greatly appreciate the 'Welcome
Home' party, I'm a bit tired from all the traveling. Feel free to
stay as long as you like, but I think I'm going to bed. I'll see you
all at our regular meeting tomorrow night."
Nene stood as well, glancing at her wristwatch. "Oh my gosh,
look at the time! I have to be at work early tomorrow! See ya!"
With the last called back over her shoulder, she was across the room,
down the entry corridor, and out the door as if she'd been shot out of
a cannon.
"Chief or no Chief, five will get you ten that the ADP's
timekeeping records get a secret adjustment around mid-morning
tomorrow," Linna observed with a smile.
Priss grinned back. "No way am I going to take that sucker bet.
You *know* she's going to oversleep again. She always does." The
pair also stood from their chairs in the kitchen and walked into the
living room with their reluctant hostess.
"Good night, Priss, Linna, and thank you for the party," Sylia
said as she turned towards the hallway leading toward the apartment's
bedrooms.
"Um, Sylia.... do you have a minute?" The expression on
Linna's face was a bit pensive, very much out of place from the rest
of the evening. "Now that Nene's gone, there's something Priss and I
wanted to talk with you about."
"Of course. What is it?" Sylia mentally winced at the thought
of delaying her much needed rest; a very real case of jet lag was
affecting her quite a bit, but she graciously motioned the other two
to seats in the conversation pit of her living room, taking a third
seat there for herself. "Is there something the matter with Nene?"
"Yeah. At least we think so. It's... well...."
After rehearsing this in her head all day, Linna just couldn't
get the words out. Priss, however, had no such problem. "Look, it's
like this. Remember a few months back, that little problem I had?"
Remember? How could she forget, Sylia thought. Priss's 'little
problem' had been a stalker, an obviously disturbed young man named
Kusanagi Rei who had taken an interest in her. And when his interest
wasn't returned (and how could it have been, when Priss hadn't even
known he existed), he began acting out to attract her attention,
culminating in an assassination attempt while Priss was performing at
Hot Legs that nearly took her life, and did take her voice, and put
her career on hold for a considerable period of time.
"Yes, I remember. And this related, I take it?"
"Right after all that, after I'd been back on my feet for a
couple months, we got involved with that stuff about the second
generation AI and there wasn't time to check on things. But while you
were in Germany, we did try to check. And she wouldn't do it."
"Priss, you're not making much sense. Did Nene refuse to check
on something for you? Something related to the Knight Sabers?"
"What Priss is trying to say," Linna cut in, "is that it's been
months, and we haven't heard anything about Kusanagi going to trial.
Priss should surely have heard something. Like she said, we were so
busy there for a while, there really wasn't time to think about it.
But after you left, things calmed down and she realized that she
hadn't heard anything."
"Linna checked news media archives, and I pumped Leon, but we
couldn't come up with anything. I even talked to the prosecutor's
office, and they said they had no record of the case!"
"So anyway," Linna picked up the narrative thread again, "we
asked Nene to check on it. It would be a snap for her."
"And the little bitch wouldn't do it," Priss said coldly, and
Sylia looked at her in surprise. Linna jumped into the breach.
"And that's weirder than snake shoes. Since when does Nene Romanova
refuse an excuse to hack records? It wouldn't even be hacking, just
look up a police file."
Now Sylia frowned. It did seem rather unlike Nene to turn down
a request like this. "Just what was it you wanted her to check on?"
"All I want to know is what happened to the bastard, but she was
treating it like some state secret."
"Priss can't find anyone who will tell her anything," Linna
added, the very softness of her voice a deliberate contrast to Priss's
explosive outbursts. "Is he still awaiting trial? Has he already
been tried? Was he convicted and sentenced, was he set free?"
The sudden quiet of the room was broken only by the tick-tock of
an antique Black Forest cuckoo clock, a gift from Mackie that had been
mounted in a place of honor on the wall only hours before. "All
right," Sylia finally replied. "I'll see what I can find out."
"And Nene?"
"I'll see what I can find out from her, too."
* * *
The next evening found the quartet together again, this time in
a small room in the basement of a downtown building known as 'Ladies
633'. The building's tenants sometimes wondered why the owner had
only leased out the first four levels, but most chalked it up to
eccentricity. It was rumored that owner, who lived in the penthouse,
was wealthy and could afford the wasted space.
As it had always had been in recent memory, space in Tokyo was
at a premium and one did what one could with what one had. The
building's owner, Sylia Stingray, was indeed wealthy and did indeed
live in the penthouse. But there was no wasted space in Ladies 633.
The headquarters of the Knight Sabers was so full of equipment and
facilities directly related to operations that their main training and
technical development areas were housed in a different area, a part of
the city known as Timex City, under the cover of Raven's Garage.
But not all of 633 was operations related either. Priscilla
Asagiri, towel around her neck, was slumped at one end of a ratty old
sofa, red-brown eyes closed in near-exhaustion from many laps around
the floor of the basement's small gymnasium, used for training of a
more 'low tech' variety. At the other end of the sofa sat Nene
Romanova, sipping tea between yawns. Linna Yamazaki, true to her
former calling as an aerobics instructor, was on a mat on the floor,
slowly working through various stretching exercises. Sylia Stingray
sat in a lounge chair in the center of the room, reviewing the results
of the night's training, and hoping the others were paying attention
to her.
"In short," she concluded her comments, "it could be worse, but
it should be much better. All three of you have let your conditioning
fall to unacceptable levels, and it's only been a few months." She
shook her head in disbelief. "Some might even say that your
conditioning... stinks. And so, Linna...." A grunt from The pretzel
on the floor acknowledged her name. "You're in charge. Do what you
need to, but I want all of you back where you're supposed to be within
two weeks."
Ignoring the groans and complaints from the others, Sylia stood.
"All right, two more items of business and we're finished, but we need
the facilities upstairs for this. Shower, change, and I'll see you up
there in fifteen minutes."
"Don't want us stinking up the joint, eh Sylia?" The others
groaned again, but missed the slight smile on Sylia's face in response
to the comment from Priss that followed her out the door.
* * *
Sylia dimmed the room's lights and activated a monitor set into
a nearby wall. The image of a young woman in the uniform of a
Sergeant in the Self Defense Forces stared out at them.
"This is Tani Misato, formerly of the SDF, released after five
years of service at the request of her family. Her military specialty
was reconnaissance operations, although she was trained in other areas
as well. Basically, her training was to allow her to work in advance
of a military force to observe and gather information about a target.
She was also trained in clearing the area of all types of obstacles to
her group's ultimate goal as quietly and efficiently as possible."
"Sounds like an interesting person," Priss commented dryly. "So
why should we care?"
"Oh, she looks so sad," interrupted Nene. "Don't you think she
looks sad, Linna?"
Linna made a show of examining the monitor's image. She had to
admit, there *was* something sad about those dark eyes set into the
classic Japanese features. The only thing that kept her from
resembling the prototypical porcelain doll was a tan that spoke of
many hours in the sun. "Is she the client, Sylia?"
"While I was away, I gave considerable thought to reorganizing
our roles in the Knight Sabers," Sylia announced, her non-sequitor
bringing all fidgeting, muttering, and other normal signs of less than
full attention to a complete halt. "I decided that we need a wider
range of expertise in the organization, but I do not think that right
now we can afford the time to learn what we need to know on our own."
"That sounds reasonable," Linna commented. "But what does that
have to.... oh, no, Sylia, you wouldn't. Don't we have any say in
this?" Linna was aghast.
"What? Linna?" Priss and Nene stared at Linna, their momentary
confusion replaced with shock as they realized what Linna had.
"Tani Misato will be joining the Knight Sabers, effective
tomorrow night."
Now that she'd explicitly said it, the stunned silence lasted
just long enough for Sylia to make a mental bet with herself about how
the others would react. "WHAT?!" Priss jumped to her feet, and Sylia
smiled inwardly. It was nice to know she hadn't lost her ability to
predict the actions of others. Then again, some people were more
predictable than others.
Linna also appeared stunned, and her reaction was just as
predictable. "Sylia, of course it's up to you if you want to expand
the Sabers, but who *is* this person? Don't we have any say in the
matter?"
"Do sit down, Priss. All that jumping up and down can't be good
for someone in your poor physical condition." After Priss sank slowly
back down onto the couch, Sylia answered Linna's concern. "My studies
indicate that she will fit in well as an individual, and she has many
skills we can make use of." She paused and sipped her coffee.
"The three of you were investigated, examined, and recruited in
the same manner Tani was, and things have worked out well, for the
most part. There should be no real problems. As long as you are
willing to work with her." The sudden coldness in Sylia's voice left
no doubt in the minds of the rest of the group that they had *better*
be willing to work together with the newcomer.
"Well then," Sylia said briskly as she shut off the monitor,
then reached down beside her chair and opened a folder, moving on
quickly to another subject before the others could bring more
arguments to bear, "if there are no other questions, the other thing I
wanted to discuss is some old business, namely the status of Kusanagi
Rei."
The mere mention of the name shook Priss from her surprised
stupor, and Linna's expression changed to one of interested
anticipation as well. Only Nene looked uneasy, but then, Sylia
reflected, Nene had never been comfortable when the topic of Kusanagi
came up. Sylia continued, "This morning I accessed his case records,
and found something rather interesting." She paused, making sure she
had their attention. It was almost unfair to drop two bombshells on
them in such a short period of time, she thought. "He's dead."
Priss and Nene paled, and it seemed that Linna alone maintained
some speech function. "Dead? What... what happened?"
Sylia referred to a few sheets of paper and photographs from the
folder. "The records aren't totally clear as to what happened. His
body was found in The Canyons. It had been badly damaged, and then
had decomposed before discovery. He was identified via genetic
matching. I can only assume he got away from custody again and ran
afoul of someone who didn't care for him very much."
The picture in her mind's eye made Linna slightly queasy as she
rose from her own seat and walked over to lean over the back of the
couch, resting her hand on Priss's left shoulder. "Well, at least
that's over. Nothing more to worry about there, right Priss?" she
said as calmly as she could to the now red-faced woman sitting below
and to her right, trying to quell the storm she knew was coming.
"Damn police, totally useless, couldn't even keep an old lady in
the bath if they tried," Priss muttered as she shook of the hand and
stood again, beginning to pace around the room.
"Aw, come on Priss, don't be like that. I'm sure they did the
best they could. The important thing--"
Priss rounded, anger blazing in her eyes. "Shut up, Nene. That
was twice we know of that he got away from them. What if he did
something else before someone did the world a favor?"
"I'm sure he didn't," Sylia said, trying to defuse the
situation. "I looked at the crime reports for the month after we
caught him, and there was no record of anything that matched his
pattern. I don't think there's any real fault of the police here.
They can only do what they can do." She closed the folder very
deliberately, as if the motion would bring closure to the entire
debate. Priss looked as if she wanted to continue, but, with another
black look at Nene, sat back down on the sofa.
"Anyway, that's all I have for this evening. Unless there is
something else?" She chose to ignore the incredulous looks on both
Nene's and Linna's faces, and the "wasn't that enough" that Priss
muttered under her breath as they all stood and moved toward the door,
Nene leading the way. "Then we'll meet again as scheduled tomorrow,"
Sylia called after them, "and you'll be introduced to Tani. Nene,
would you please stay behind?"
"Sure, Sylia," Nene replied, sighing as she slowly turned and
came back into the room.
"Don't forget what I said about your training," Sylia called
after Priss and Linna as they headed out the door together, Priss
still muttering under her breath all the while.
"What's up?" the young red head asked the Knight Sabers' leader
after they were alone, in a cheery voice that somehow seemed forced.
"I've been archiving some old files, and came across some suit
sensor logs that you didn't annotate. I'd like them taken care of
tonight, before you leave. Use the machine downstairs, please. If
there's a problem, I'll be up here."
* * *
Nene activated the first log recording, and found herself face-
to-face with a Bu-12B combat boomer. Panic surged through her veins
as she slammed her hand down on the STOP button, and she forcibly
reminded herself that this was only a recording. Still, it took a few
moments longer for her hindbrain to calm from its atavistic fight-or-
flight response to something bigger, and definitely badder, than she
was. Viewing the logs was sometimes, as Priss had said once, the next
best thing to being there.
"*Idiot, idiot, idiot,*" she muttered under her breath, a
personal mantra of embarrassment as she reset the recording to its
starting point. "It's a good thing no one was around to see you make
a fool of yourself."
She resumed the playback, this time at suit activation, and
smiled as she saw Priss and Linna astride motoroids in the back of the
Silky Doll van. Sylia sure is behind in her archiving, she thought.
This has to be two years old, at least!
Nene worked as quickly as possible, making comments for the
record about the performance of her suit and various sensor readings
being received. As she moved from recording to recording, she felt as
if she was viewing a history of the Knight Sabers: fighting boomers,
doing electronic and visual surveillance, being rescued from Largo's
hyperboomers, rescuing Priss from Largo himself. Over and over,
scenes of the Knight Sabers working together, looking out for each
other, trusting each other to do their job.
All of which made the last recording in the queue jarring to say
the least. No boomers to be fought here, just a bleeding madman,
huddled on the ground in front of her.
Nene watched Sylia take the injured Linna
away to be tended to, leaving her alone with
Kusanagi Rei, the man who had come very close to
killing Priss. The man who *had* killed other
young women. "Get up," she ordered, pointing the
Motoroid's cannon at him. Kusanagi struggled to
his feet. "Come over here."
"What are you going to do with me?" he asked.
"Take you to TPD. Come over here." He
crossed to in front of the Motoroid, and stood
facing her. "Turn around."
When he complied, she slung the cannon, then
roughly shoved him around, and picked him up, her
Motoroid's right arm under his knees, its left arm
around his shoulders. They launched into the air,
and she triggered the autopilot to take them to
their destination, across the Canyons, the rift
left behind by the Second Kanto Earthquake of
2025, and into the city.
"You know," he said conversationally, "this
is ridiculous. They don't have any evidence to
convict me, because I didn't do anything wrong."
"You think not? Then why did you run off?"
"They didn't have any right to hold me. It's
nothing anyone else wouldn't do. So why are *you*
doing this to me?"
"Shut up," she snapped, squeezing her
Motoroid's left fingers a little tighter around
his arms injured shoulder. He groaned a little.
Nene wanted to shut her eyes, knowing what was coming next. She
had been so angry; she could hear that anger in her glacial tone of
voice. She held a murderer in her arms, someone who tried to murder
one of her best friends, and he knew he was going to get away with it.
The most damaging evidence against him wasn't admissible in court, and
the evidence that was admissible wasn't strong enough to convict on
the most serious of the charges that could be brought. With
overcrowding in the prisons and the emphasis on rehabilitation instead
of confinement, he was going to be back on the streets, back playing
out his sick fantasies, within two years.
He was laughing at her.
She still didn't know what had happened. One moment they were
flying over The Canyons at about 100 meters, and then Sylia's voice
was in her head, asking her "Can you drop our 'friend' here off at TPD
by yourself?"
She had been so angry, and now she just felt sick as she forced
herself to watch again the scenes that regularly visited her
nightmares. Watched herself switch her Motoroid to manual control.
Watched herself tip it forward into a horizontal flight mode. Watched
herself release the grip that the mech had on him. Watched Kusanagi
Rei plunge to his death.
"That was for Priss, you son of a bitch."
With those words, the recording came to an end, the player
stopping automatically. Nene sat quietly, tears in her eyes as she
stared at the blank monitor screen. She'd worked so hard to forget
what she'd done, to make sure the others never found out....
"Is there something you want to tell me about?"
Nene jumped in her seat, then froze, no longer shocked that
someone had found out, but only surprised that it had taken so long.
"How long have you known?" Inane, but the only thing she could think
to say.
"I've suspected something was wrong since before the Illegal
Army showed up, but for various reasons I was unable to confirm my
suspicions until recently." Sylia slid around Nene's chair and leaned
against the console, looking down at her. "Why?"
Nene sighed and looked down, unable to meet Sylia's eyes. "I
don't know," she said quietly. "I got mad, I guess. He was going to
get away with what he'd done to Priss, and he'd done even worse to
those other women, and I couldn't stand the thought of him out on the
street again."
She looked up, tears in her eyes. "It was wrong, I know. It
just sort of happened." Sniffling, determined not to cry, she asked,
"What are you going to do?"
Sylia straightened and turned, staring at her image reflected on
the screen of a blank monitor. It was times like this she wished she
had been able to keep a proper distance between herself and the
others. After all this time working so closely together, Nene was
almost like a mischievous little sister to her. It was almost painful
to see her hurting like this, let alone deepening the wound herself.
Things would have been so much easier if she could bring herself to
enforce the rules....
There was no getting around the fact that Nene Romanova had
committed murder, and she couldn't let that go. At least she could
find small personal comfort in that *her* kills, Mason and Yuri, had
been actively trying to kill her at the time. But recognition of the
need to 'do the right thing' led to the sickening realization that
there was absolutely nothing she could possibly say or do that would
not make her look like an complete hypocrite.
"Didn't you think someone would find out? Or a witness would
come forward and tell the world 'I saw the Knight Sabers murder an
unarmed man?'"
"But it just happened, I didn't mean for it to happen!" An
upraised eyebrow from her leader brought her up short.
"You didn't? I suppose Kusanagi jumped out of your arms on his
own, did he? I saw the recording, Nene. I saw a wounded man trying
to hang on as his support was pulled out from under him."
"He wouldn't have been wounded if it weren't for you," Nene
muttered, slightly defiant.
"No, he wouldn't have been. But then he had just shot Linna,
hadn't he? There's a big difference between wounding in a defensive
reaction and murder. I have no reason to doubt you when you say what
you did was totally on impulse, but you're going to have to deal with
the consequences of your actions now.
"What did they tell you in police training about your that?
About consequences of action?"
"That I have to be careful about everything I do, in uniform or
out, because if I do something wrong it will reflect badly on the
department."
"It's very similar with the Knight Sabers, Nene, you know that.
Your private actions can't be held against us, but everything you do
while wearing that suit can. Planned or not, you've put us into a
terrible position.
"So what am I going to do, you ask? What do *you* think I
should do?"
"Turn me in, I guess," Nene whispered, the earlier defiance in
her voice gone.
"Since the police aren't actively investigating the case, I'm
sure they'd appreciate the gift. But that would eventually expose the
Knight Sabers, and I'm not going to do that," Sylia said sardonically.
"Try again."
Nene's brain churned with confusion. Sylia was going to let her
off? "You're not going to turn me in?"
"Think about it, Nene. Who would believe you'd done it? How
did you get him into the air to drop him like that? You don't have a
credible answer, and you'd be written off as a nut-case. With all the
problems *that* would cause in your life. If someone decided to find
out why you're lying, they'd eventually find your connection to the
Knight Sabers.
"And they'd also be investigating *me:* why am I trying to
besmirch the name of an officer in good standing of the AD Police? I
don't need that kind of trouble, Nene. You've caused enough as it
is."
Nene looked up at the forbiddingly cold and hard look on Sylia's
face. "Then... I resign? From the police?" she said in a small
voice.
"Can you in good faith keep to your oaths knowing what you've
done?
"But if I resign, what about the Sabers? How will we keep up
the information flow we need?"
"That's not your concern, Nene. You're suspended from the
Knight Sabers, indefinitely."
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