by Nyx Smith
Honjowara-sama addresses the gathering in a calm clear voice that resonates with power. "Seasons change," he declares. "Blossoms wither. Petals blanket the ground. The sky turns gray with cold and winter comes, inexorable. Each woman and man must reach an accommodation with destiny. For life's tenuous hold on this plane is but a fleeting illusion, and all must inevitably slip away. From dust to dust and ash to ash. We honor the departed. We honor their selfless devotion to duty, their courage and their strength. We pray that their bold spirits find peace and salvation, secure in the knowledge that one day they will return as glorious beings to show us the path to enlightenment."
Many bow or murmur amens. Machiko watches the crowd, the gardens and trees, the sky. She briefly reflects that Mitsuharu-san's difficulties with teeth and gums have been forever cured, and the troubles Jiksumi sought to evade by indulging in alcohol have been permanently washed away. She struggles against whispers rising from her undisciplined heart, but finds the battle difficult.
The lifestyle of the Guard is full of difficulties. The stark white pall of their faces and the violence of which they are capable chills most casual relationships before any can begin. Many of the more traditional Japanese see the white faces of the Guard as symbolic of death. Besides Sukayo and his family, Machiko can think of few she would account as friends, and that is their secret sorrow. They enjoy much respect and privilege, they are greatly honored. Their material rewards far exceed what any of them really need and can only be regarded with satisfaction and delight. Yet, they pass much of their time alone, sealed within the iron fist of duty and martial discipline.
Not until they retire from active duty and join the masters of the Guard at the GSG academy have any of them taken partners or borne children. Machiko has considered this often, pondered it, worried about it, but now is not the time.
One day . . . perhaps ... if fate will allow it.
Burners beneath the pyre are ignited. The flames swiftly rise into a roaring pillar of fire. Several persons of the Honjowara-gumi and the Nagato Office of Corporate Affairs move about with portacams, recording everything.
The Security Service is more discreet, utilizing officers with implanted headware to make a visual record.
As the ceremonies end, the Chairman's close advisor Zoge-san moves to the families of the dead to invite them all to the Chairman's estate. There, they will be met by counselors of the Nagato Office of Employee Services. They will be advised about legal matters and encouraged to accept various counseling services. They will of course be accorded paid leave from their jobs. Leaves of absence will be arranged for those younger persons attending school. The Chairman will meet with all of them personally in the days to come to ensure that their needs have been accommodated. He will likely also see that any special wants such as might require a special favor are also satisfied.
Honjowara-sama descends the dais and begins the brief trip to Nagato Communications Corp complex located here in Nagato Commercial Park. He and several other clan leaders and officers of Nagato Corp will meet with the board of NCC and attend an assembly of NCC employees.
Machiko leaves Gongoro to supervise the body detail and other activities of the Guard and proceeds directly to the Nagato Commercial Park aerodrome.
An unmarked Federated-Boeing Commander tilt-wing aircraft waits in the flight line, turbines whining, back-draft from the spinning rotors making the plane and pavement around it seeming to waver with heat.
Machiko climbs onboard. Twenty GSG follow, a hurriedly assembled advance team. The last two into the cabin turn and yank the hatch shut.
The interior of the main cabin has only fifteen seats. Those without seats kneel in the center aisle and prepare to steady themselves as best they can. The gun ports along both sides, a custom modification, are of course closed, weapons secured. In the event of a tactical emergency, the plane can be swiftly converted to unleash a devastating barrage against hostile ground forces.
Machiko turns to the flight cabin. The two-person flight crew wears the uniform of the Air Services Division of the Security Defense Force. Most such personnel are former UCAS military. These two are both orks, plainly of Japanese blood.
The pilot-captain turns in her seat to look back. She affects a quick bow. "Our orders are to make best possible time," she says. "We'll have to stay low to clear the traffic pattern at JFK. That'll probably mean shaking some windows."
Machiko replies, "We lack time to be polite."
"Check roger," the pilot says, turning back to her controls. "Let's ram it. Full power."
The engines howl. The cabin vibrates. The ship rises so suddenly that Machiko feels the floor thrust up against her legs. The plane is already tilting nose-downward, the ground sliding past and falling away. In another moment they are climbing past 50 meters and the landscape below is rushing by, the aerodrome left somewhere behind.
The flight is swift. They are across the county line and winging over Nassau County in just moments. Central Nassau's congested sprawl soon gathers into the dense conglomeration of stone and steel that is Queens. Machiko catches sight through the flight cabin windows of the strobing lights of the runways at JFK airport, off to the right. Then they are over the islets and channels of Jamaica Bay, veering past the UCAS military installations at Floyd Bennett Field, and swooping down over the eastern extent of the peninsula known as Coney Island.
Extending out nearly 400 meters beyond the southern shoreline, creating a shoreline of its own, complete with boardwalk and slips for pleasure cruisers, is the expansive complex of the Chrysanthemum Palace Hotel and Casino. Perhaps the most ambitious project Nagato Combine has ever attempted. Already, in just its first few months of operation, it has brought in millions of nuyen. And as even Machiko is aware, it must bring in many millions more if it is to pay off its debt.
"Palace Control, this is Workhorse Five," says the pilot into her commlink. "We are priority five, inbound."
A voice replies, "Check roger, Workhorse. Call the ball."
"ILS lock-on. Coming down hot and heavy."
"Check roger. On glidepath."
"Transition to vertical flight in three, two, one, mark."
It seems to come an instant too late. The massive ten-sided pyramid of the Chrysanthemum Palace Hotel, rising more than forty stories into the cloudy haze of the afternoon, swiftly swells large, then immense. They seem like a missile diving directly for the roof of the pyramid. The landing pads atop the roof seem about to swallow the nose of the aircraft. Then, suddenly, the nose of the ship kicks upward and the cabin floor is shoving against Machiko's legs so hard she must wedge herself into the doorway at the flight cabin's rear to keep upright.
"Stand by," the pilot comments.
Engines scream. A piercing electronic tone begins pulsing and the plane shudders and the impact nearly hurls Machiko to the floor. Even as she straightens, the pilot is saying, "Hope that was fast enough. Any faster, we'd be in the penthouse."
"My thanks to the SDF," Machiko replies.
The pilot grins around diminutive fangs. "Always glad to be of help."
Two GSG thrust the main cabin hatchway open. Machiko is first down the steps. The deputy director for hotel security and the director for security of the entire complex are waiting at the doors to the aeropad miniterm. They escort Machiko directly to the hotel's security command center: an expansive room walled with display screens, lined with security consoles, filled with the murmur of commlinks and the beeps of sense-touch console keys.
The hotel deputy briefs Machiko on the situation. On various of the display screens, she sees members of her advance team taking up their positions, many already guarded by Security Service officers and troopers of the SDF.
In expectation of the Chairman's arrival, security has been greatly heightened. Access to the hotel complex has been limited to the hotel's two main entrances. Everyone entering is scanned for weapons not merely by the discreetly disguised weapons detectors built into the entrances, but also by
plainclothes officers of the Security Service, watched over by uniformed officers. These are further supported by heavily armed and armored troopers of the SDF, waiting in certain selected locations just out of sight. All persons who are not registered or expected as guests of the hotel or arriving for some legitimate, documented purpose are denied entrance.
Here there is no question of clan Honjowara bearing the burden of security. The complex is an official venture of Nagato Corporation, and the official security forces of the Corporation are directly responsible for the entire facility. The GSG is advised and consulted on all matters pertaining to the Chairman's impending visit, but Machiko need concern herself only with the Chairman's person and his immediate surroundings.
Rowdy gangers and other troublemakers who may approach the hotel will only become her responsibility if they come near Honjowara-sama, and that prospect seems very unlikely.
Machiko chooses the elevator Honjowara-sama will ride in. This is placed under the direct control of the GSG elevator detail. They will have complete command-override control.
A brief code beeps over Machiko's commlink.
No need to answer.
Momentarily, an aide reports to the deputy director of security, "Orchid Garden has initiated, sir."
The Chairman's flight to Brooklyn has begun.
Machiko is on the roof when the aircraft arrive: a pair of Federated-Boeing Commanders descending simultaneously to the rooftop aeropads. A trio of helicopter gunships, Q-modified Hughes Airstars, take up positions around the roof as the tilt-wing Commanders descend. A third F-B Commander stands off, slowly circling the pyramid of the hotel. Machiko's discerning eye observes that although this third plane displays no obvious weapons, its gunports are open. Doubtless, a full complement of combat-ready SDF aircrew man the firing stations.
As the paired Commanders touch down, a twin-engine Mistral whisks by overhead. The plane is outfitted with a complement of sensors that far exceed the cost of the airframe—and keeps many watchful eyes on surrounding airspace, as well as the ground, Lower New York Bay, Coney Island Channel, and the nearby expanse of the Atlantic Ocean.
One F-B Commander is crowded with GSG, immediately moving to form a phalanx around the passengers waiting to debark from the other plane.
"Machiko," says Honjowara-sama as he emerges.
He motions her to his side.
They ride an elevator down three levels to the hotel director's suite. The suite has been checked and cleared. Inside the main bedroom waits Honjowara-sama's personal valet with several changes of clothing as well as a suitcase full of toilet articles. Honjowara-sama strips to his shorts and makes brief use of the adjoining lavatory. There is only one means of access to this lavatory. Therefore, Machiko, the only member of the Guard now present inside the suite, waits just outside the lavatory doorway, rather than in it.
When the valet enters, she enters.
Honjowara-sama stands at the vanity counter running water into the sink. He begins washing his neck and shoulders. "Machiko," he says, "how have you progressed?"
The valet's family has belonged to the Honjowara-gumi for five generations and has always served with meticulous loyalty, so there is no need for guarded talk.
Machiko tells of her encounter with Gordon Ito's deputy, including the deputy's expression of interest in the Nagato subsidiary Neurocomp.
"Gordon Ito is an executive and a subordinate to merchants," Honjowara-sama says once Machiko has finished. "He will do nothing that does not advance his own ends, which ultimately will relate to the economic objectives of his corporation. If he inquiries about Nagato activities, there is a reason. It remains to be determined, based on what you have said, whether that reason bears any relationship to the immediate objective of your investigation."
Honjowara-sama pauses to choose from several deodorants offered by the valet. "It may be that your visit to Fuchi merely presented Ito with a convenient means of expressing an interest he has held for some time. I want you to confer with Bessho-san in the near future. The Security Service maintains varying degrees of relationships with the security organs of a number of major corporations. You should be informed as to the state of these relations. The trade in intelligence can be a delicate business."
"Chairman-sama," Machiko says, bowing, "I am no merchant. I have no training in any form of trading or negotiating. Perhaps such delicate business as the trade in intelligence should be left to others."
Honjowara-sama finishes brushing his teeth, and says, "Nagato Combire has no need of another merchant. Your loyalty is beyond question. Your blade is keenly honed. Consider the lessons of your sensei Kuroda-san and look forward to the day when you will join the masters of the Guard."
This is so startling, Machiko blurts, "Join them, Chairman-samal At the academy?"
Honjowara-sama turns fully to look at her, and says, "Do you suppose that such capable individuals as Kuroda-san spend the whole of their time instructing the neophytes of the Guard?"
Machiko hesitates. Her thoughts travel back to Kuroda-sensei's unexpected appearance at the Yoshida-kai teahouse in Brooklyn, then further, to her years of training at the GSG academy. In fact, such masters as Kuroda-sensei spent many hours training her and others in the sword and other martial disciplines. Various of the masters from time to time were said to go into "seclusion," presumably for purposes of meditation. Machiko had occasionally supposed that perhaps certain masters had gone away from the academy to perform certain special duties—perhaps familial duties—especially when their terms of "seclusion" ran on long, but she has never really inquired as to the nature of the duties performed.
Honjowara-sama's words give abrupt rise to a new vista of possibilities. Could it be that there is an elite corp within a corp? That the masters of the Guard are in fact far more active in the affairs of Nagato Combine than she has previously supposed?
Would it not be wise of the Chairman to apply a weapon as keen as Kuroda-sensei wherever he might have effect?
Honjowara-sama says nothing more on the subject. He returns to the bedroom, selects a fresh suit and begins to dress. In just a few moments more, he strides boldly into a nearby room arranged like a boardroom. Eight men and three women, mostly norms, mostly Caucasians, wait around the mahogany table at the center of the room. All eleven rise and applaud as Honjowara-sama enters. The leader of the group, Joseph Durkin, president of the powerful New York Transport Mechanics and Load Handlers' Free Trade Union, greets Honjowara-sama with a bow, then smiles broadly as Honjowara-sama extends a hand to complete the greeting in the western style.
"My good friend," Honjowara-sama remarks.
"My special father!" says Durkin-san.
There is some laughter over this.
A general discussion of union business soon begins. Toward the end, one man says, "We've heard some concern from our members about these attacks against your people, the bombing in Newark. I guess some of our people are nervous."
"I know I am," says one of the women.
"Stuff like this gets around and I don't want nobody blasting or bombing my members."
"Your concerns are understandable," Honjowara-sama replies. "Our people must always come first. However, you may be certain that the forces of Nagato Combine are actively seeking the criminals behind the violence. Machiko-san, the acting senior of the Guard, is herself participating in the investigation."
Every eye turns to Machiko. She says nothing. She gives no sign of noticing that she has become the center of attention. Inwardly, she feels a twinge of uncertainty, wondering where the moment is leading. She is not the only GSG in the room, but she feels as though she is suddenly very alone.
"What can you tell us of the investigation?" Honjowara-sama asks.
Machiko looks to the Chairman, but hesitates to say anything. Honjowara-sama has thrust her into a position with which she has little experience.
The union leaders do not belong to Nagato Combine. The Chairman addresses them as friends and all
ies, but the strength of their friendship and the certainty of any alliance is far less, in Machiko's view, than the bonds that join the three clans. In past meetings, Honjowara-sama has always been careful to maintain the attitude of an ally, but to Machiko it seems that he has kept a certain distance, telling the union leaders only those portions of the truth that they are in need of knowing.
"Details of an ongoing investigation must of course be protected," Honjowara-sama adds. "Generally, what have you determined? Speak freely."
To Machiko, it seems significant that the Chairman tells her to "speak freely." When told to speak, she would not ordinarily even consider speaking in any other manner. She cannot imagine that Honjowara-sama would doubt this for even an instant, or that he would ever consider it necessary to tell her to speak without restraint, unless he intended his words differently than they might otherwise appear.
Machiko considers what she knows, what she suspects. She considers Gordon Ito and his Special Administration. She considers the interest expressed by Ito's deputy regarding Neurocomp and what that might imply. She considers the many uncertainties that remain, but she says, "The violence against Nagato Combine appears to be the work of terrorists."
"You have definite indications."
This does not seem to be a question. It seems to be a statement that Honjowara-sama wants confirmed. The gaze he directs toward her seems particularly strong.
"Yes, Chairman-Mma," Machiko says. "That is correct."
"How would you characterize the progress you are making?"
It has been little more than three days since the bombing at clan headquarters, a few hours more than that since the assassins' attacks. In that time, Machiko has followed leads and taken captives and conducted interrogations. She has pursued her enemy across the plex and gained much valuable information. She cannot say where or when she will find her enemy, but this is not what the Chairman asked. "We are making swift progress, Chairman-sama," she says. "Very swift."
Honjowara-sama looks to the union leaders. They appear much impressed. Several appear to grow uneasy beneath Machiko's roving gaze and direct their attention elsewhere.