by M. R.
Aika sat up on the bed of her cell. She had woken up alone. Everyone gone. The faint sound of birds, waves. And now it was too late to act as if running away was an option. She had returned to Central Command. She refused to go off the grid, to be grouped with the men who betrayed her and their country. But fear still grasped her mind. She couldn't resist the temptation to flee, find a way to Europe–America. Even if the U.S. officials captured her, she could’ve traded information for her freedom. She laughed. She would’ve sooner slit her throat.
She had ran through her options and going underground seemed the most intelligent. But she came in. And now she sat surrounded by three gray walls and a solid pane of unbreakable synthetic glass. She needed to clear her name. She needed answers: Why were they stationed at some low level facility? Was their presence and the chikara attack a coincidence? And what had happened to Hajime? Always loyal, even if a little rash, but for some time he had been unraveling, the good willed team-player mutating into a bigoted monster. She'd noticed little flags–needing to be given orders twice, then the back talking, then the slight agitation when he disagreed with a command. But now, with the mission to retrieve Raijin, he became hate filled, insubordinate, and bloodthirsty. Before she could express her concerns to her superiors, they were stationed at the lab with no explanation. She chose to wait until they returned to Central Command, to give Hajime one more chance to show he was capable of the work, that he wasn’t cracking under the obligations of action and secrecy that burdened all officers.
So why hadn’t Central Command told them they were being used as a trap for the chikara? She had tried giving them the benefit of the doubt–it was a coincidence?–no. They used Raijin as bait. Raijin. The tubes. Stored in some glorified glass jar, a failed experiment turned trophy. That’s what they were doing to them. And what a hypocrite she was, acting like not asking questions, just not thinking much about what was being done to them, made her better than the monsters dissecting teenagers. During the debacle with the chikara, she tried to act like she knew what was going on, like she knew what happened to the superpowered ones she brought in. She assumed they were being held captive for society’s protection. But seeing those pods made her realize that she never thought enough about anything concerning her job. Even if they were being held captive, did she really think they were kept at some luxury resort? Only now, with Raijin, did she think of them as human beings and gave a damn. What would happen when the rest of the world learned of their existence?
The sound of metal doors opening. Steps down the hall of cells. No one was in the other cells. She was alone. But she was still in the bodysuit she wore under her armor. She felt against her leg, her secret blade was still sewn in the fabric.
"Hello, Aika." The kind, weary eyes. The smile. Ryo.
Tears.
Ryo pressed his palm against the pane. His handprint glowed yellow, then green. The pane expanded, a portal opening before them. Aika fell out the cell into his arms. He held her, feeling her sobs vibrate into him, muffled. She sighed then stood. Ryo erected and stood at attention.
"Captain Yamada." He saluted. "I have orders to escort you upstairs."
"At ease. To meet with whom?"
"Dr. Chino, Dr. Sato, and a representative of Minister Kusugi's."
They made their way through the wings and levels of Central Command, allowing their hands to occasionally brush against each other. Reaching the double doors to a room on the executive level, Ryo couldn't contain himself–he hugged Aika tightly, then let her slip from his arms, holding her head in his hands, his lips against her forehead.
"Everything will be okay," he said.
"I know," she said. And she meant it. In the moment, she knew he was beside her and they'd fight to live, to be together.
Ryo removed a flat black case from his coat and handed it to her. She slipped it down her left boot. They touched foreheads. She entered the room.
Inside, Dr. Chino and Commander Goto, head of Central Command, were talking in murmurs, standing behind a long table. At the sight of her commander, she stood erect and saluted. Commander Goto walked around the table and approached her. He forced a reassuring smile and patted her on the shoulder before leaving the room. She fell at ease.
"Sit," said, Dr. Chino.
They sat on opposite sides of the table. Dr. Chino poured two cups of tea from a porcelain tea pot.
"Drink," he said.
Aika hesitated. She wanted to laugh at her apprehension. It was like she thought the tea was poisoned. Did she? She wasn't sure.
He sipped. The rim of her cup could have been laced with a toxin.
He looked at her. Then switched the cups. He could've taken the antidote.
She was unmoving. Dr. Chino sighed. He blamed himself for the mistrust:
"I should have brought you on sooner. Commander Goto had vouched for your loyalty and virtue. But I was skeptical, unsure of what methods you may have used to cut through the bureaucratic binds that would have accompanied your rapid promotions to obtain captain status."
"Talent, ambition, and the support of my superiors are 'methods'?"
"I apologize. I am old. I only see the negative changes time has brought about. I forget often how inevitable progress can be." He folded his arms on the table. "You returned. I can't say I would have done the same. One often does not realize how arrogance is an unintended side effect of even the healthiest of paranoias. But by you and Commander Goto, I am humbled. I have reviewed your files...and you are an asset to this country."
"That's all I ever wanted to be." She reached for the tea and took a sip.
The doctor sat back.
The room was white, sterile. The table and their slim, standard chairs were the only furniture present. But then there was the delicate, eggshell tea pot with roses and mismatching pastel blue cups. At first she thought it was a destabilizing technique, part of a systematic arrangement of kind contradictions to the formality of the situation, designed to soften her, to make her feel safe and hence more likely to cooperate with whatever version of events they spoon-fed her. Dr. Chino was either an evil genius, breaking her down without her awareness, or a cordial old man, clinging to some kind of etiquette in an increasingly cold, calculating world. Had Aika become so cynical as to become mistrustful of hospitality? Even during an apocalypse there was a place for manners. Hell, manners would be a virtue.
"You were expecting someone you didn't see when you first entered," said the doctor. "I recall the look of surprise on your face when you first entered."
Aika wanted to relax in the chair. The adrenaline keeping her alert, her defenses up, was draining. But she forced herself to sit tall, moving to the edge of the seat, leaning against the table: "I was expecting Dr. Sato and a representative of the minister's."
"Well, Dr. Sato definitely wanted answers, as did the minister, who wanted to simultaneously distance himself from and have eyes and ears on the situation. But simply stated, no one can be trusted. Not the minister, not Central Command."
"The chikara experiments."
"Mainly, but among other matters. James Crawford was Japanese. A boy just trying to find his mother. People have been reevaluating the 'humanity' of these beings."
"And you?"
"I've always called them 'beings.' They are more than the 'creatures' that political rhetoric has suggested in an attempt to bias the few aware of their existence. Yet if they were just animals on the loose...when was the last time a man feared his inferior?"
Aika looked sternly into the old man's face: "Is this evolution?"
The old man broke with her gaze, looking to the corner: "Do the chikara signify progress? Yes. Is it natural? I don't know. I worked on Akuma, oversaw and contributed technology to Benzaiten. Nature's machinery has always been quite beyond my scope. My presence in global affairs, as the face of Benzaiten, has given me some clout. But as the second Pacific Summit approaches..."
"You think replicating the chikara is the next Great Project?"<
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"Yes. And you've seen the inhumanity this goal has fostered. You Benzai and other officials were sworn to secrecy of their existence, ordered to apprehend any of the beings quietly and safely. It was all for the purpose of experimentation, to unlock their secrets and reproduce the findings. I, thanks to Commander Goto, whom I see more than ever is fond of you and truly believes in you, intercepted a transmission relating the planning of a chikara attack on Dr. Sato's facility. I did some investigating, and from Dr. Sato's email account, learned James Crawford was to be transported for storage."
"Storage. Of course." She felt nauseous.
"Yes. Dr. Sato's facility has served as a warehouse for post experimental tissues."
"Tissues?"
"I am sorry. I've spent months since learning of these happenings...trying...trying to find the right words..."
"How did you find out?"
Dr. Chino poured two more cups of tea. Aika didn't have the stomach to eat or drink, but out of respect, she took the cup up.
"I learned..." He laughed. "I was educated of the experiments to be of service."
"How?"
"No matter. Ever since, I, and others, including your commander, have formed a resistance of sorts. Unfortunately, no one is quite sure of what we're resisting. What's the goal? What's the grand move to be made? In the meantime though, we've been trying to head off the acquisition of any more chikara and gather intel. The commander recommended we bring you into the herd. I said no. So we compromised, assigning you and your troop to guard the facility once we heard word from higher up that intel of an attack had been obtained. We're still not sure who the message was ultimately intended for. The minister? Someone in his ranks? Military? Central Command? Anyway," he swallowed, "you were sent to oversee the resc–the rescue mission."
Guilt. She had a chance to resolve the debacle peacefully. And there wouldn't even have been the need for a rescue mission if she hadn't captured the boy.
"Don't blame yourself," he said. "If I had trusted you with what I know, you would have had time to strategize. But the fact you saw them as children in need of help speaks volumes. But surely you see how dire the situation has become?"
Aika couldn't have promised if a month ago–a week ago–yesterday–that she would've understood what Dr. Chino and Commander Goto were trying to tell her. She might have only fixated on what she understood at that time, that these two men were undermining the government, her government, and hence only had seen them as traitors. But now she saw the humanity of their circumstances. This was about people. People in the world, people in the government. She would stand with Dr. Chino, not against her country, but for her country, fighting the corruption that was feeding on the necessity of order and safety, compromising the souls of her people. Hajime and Katsume.
"Their uniforms."
"Yes. The chikara's uniforms suggest they are organized. Someone in America is backing them. We need to find out who. Your suits are wired with data boxes, a complex system of softwares that monitors your vitals and dialogues. A review of the evidence will obviously clear you. I have taken measures to make sure your boxes are protected. That they don't 'disappear.' Also, I made a modification or two to further protect you from scrutiny. It's not obvious, but a paranoid eye is acute, and without modifications your sympathy for the chikara would be apparent. Once you are cleared, you will be regarded as a hero for your service, further forcing the minister's hand to recognize you himself for your valor. Then Commander Goto will use the fleeting clout of heroism you've acquired to get you stationed in America."
"The minister wants me dissolved doesn't he?"
"He wouldn't say so directly, which is good. It means he doesn't have insurance against you. The fact I could block his representative from attendance also bodes well. You are well reputed, and any suggestion of vilification, will come across as paranoia. Times haven't gotten so threatening as for even the Benzaiten to abandon a sense of brotherhood. The minister hasn't found his opening to persecute you. Also it's difficult to say if silencing you is a misguided attempt to maintain credibility or part of some larger plot, his or someone else's."
"I want permission to find Hajime and Katsume. Then I'll go to America."
"You cannot save them. They have to be deemed traitors. And will be dissolved."
"It's not that simple."
"I know. I know better than you that there may be extenuating circumstances, particularly with Benzai-three. I remotely accessed his data box and his brainwaves were...'compromised' let's say. They were like his own, but different."
"It was like he was possessed. Both of them. He–they–were among the most loyal and supportive men I've ever met. They trusted me to lead them when few would. I promoted Hajime to my unit after his handling of the Orange Riot. He contained the matter without a single casualty. He isn't the monster–"
"You're not going to let this go. I can see that. You can search for your comrades in the states. They had wirelessly altered logs to make it seem they were in China, but it seems instead they stole a high-speed submerge vehicle and retraced their route back to America. Find them, but be careful, the minister has authorized a unit to go in and retrieve them. I don't know when. They know nothing of you, and you shouldn't know anything of them. When you find Hajime, call me. I need to run tests on him, see if his abnormalities are connected to foul play, and if so, by whom."
Dr. Chino smiled. So many dangers and uncertainties to untangle and decipher. He was tired, his life doing his work to make the world better through technology and now he was heading covert operations. He sometimes laughed, sometimes cried, at the unwinding path of his life. But today, the potential for good that remained in the world, personified in the young woman before him, was worth a smile, regardless of how hopeless it all seemed.
"Very well," he said, "You find who in America is organizing the chikara, how we even learned of Crawford's and the others' location, and discern the circumstances surrounding the abnormal behaviors of Officers Hajime Miyake and Katsume Eda. Meanwhile, I'll try to find out how we learned of the rescue mission and see what Great Project the future prosperity or destruction of our homeland hinges on."
And with that Aika was dismissed. In the hall, she pulled the black case from her boot. In the corner, the light shined green, it had recorded everything and transmitted, via encrypted signals, to a recorder at the flat she shared with...Ryo. No. She couldn't go down that road. She couldn't turn against the man who loved her, questioning him just because she was questioning everyone else. She owed him loyalty. She gave him the case as an insurance policy, for her, for their, survival. He had risked his own safety to get the case containing the bug, lock picks, and mechanized magnets–tools for a quick escape, assuming she incapacitated anyone who could trigger an alarm along the way. No. She had to get home.
END of BOOK ONE
Next: BOOK TWO (ACT I part two)