Grey Ronin (The Awakened Book 3)

by Matthew S. Cox

  “I would appreciate a lack of further hostility.” Raziel glided to the ground, landing a few steps away. “Even if you ruin this shell, I will not die. It would be pointless.”

  “Nothing is as I know.” Mamoru stood straight. Kami, guide me.

  Raziel extended his arms to the sides. A ribbon of holographic panels seemed to race from his open sleeve, stretching out in a wide circle that surrounded them before connecting at his other hand. Caiden glanced up, attracted by a starscape of dots from holo-projectors in the ceiling. Each window filled with images of a Japanese baby in a lab. Employees in pale green scrubs and facemasks held him up, evaluated him, and measured him. One man bounced him and seemed affectionate. The worker pulled his face covering down to smile.

  Father.

  “Doctor Ichiro Saitō,” said Raziel. “He was the lead geneticist on the project.”

  The screens showed his early childhood: toddler Mamoru wobbling around in front of a pregnant woman. History replayed before his eyes. Caiden watched in silence, hovering close.

  “They desired for you to have a normal upbringing. He volunteered to raise you as his own.”

  “What does all of this mean?” Mamoru reached through the intangible screen attempting to touch the woman he called Mother.

  “Ichiro wanted to find a way to extend custom embryonic modification to produce children capable of psionic ability, specifically kinetic adepts. If they could reliably create people with those talents, they could produce soldiers as strong and fast as augmented individuals, but immune to EMP and without the need for expensive doctors and maintenance. They managed a few others after you, but none matched your unique strength. All met with varying degrees of success. Your talent with machines was unintentional. Individuals with mechanical aptitude are well known in the UCF, though not one of them can do what you can.”

  “How do you know all of this? What does this have to do with Minamoto?”

  “I am the keeper of secrets, Mamoru.” Raziel offered a lingering sympathetic glance. Despite having the face of a man in his young twenties, he seemed much older. “As soon as I became aware of your imminent arrival, I gathered information. Matsushita network operatives breached Eisei’s secure data vaults when you were eight. Your family had been under surveillance since.”

  Mamoru studied the far wall, glancing away from both Raziel and Caiden. “Father spent years trying to get me to unlock my chi. When I finally did, they killed him.”

  “Correct, and they took you for their own.”

  Mamoru started for the door. “I must find the one responsible for ruining my honor.”

  “Curious,” said Raziel. His silken voice stopped Mamoru after three steps. “You suffer for the loss of respect from a man who stole your life.”

  “As you have demonstrated to me, they were not my parents. They were too weak to protect themselves.”

  Caiden gasped. “They adopted you. They were your parents… and your mom was your mom.”

  Mamoru whirled about, squinting at Raziel. “What exactly are you?”

  “As I said, I am the keeper of secrets. I do not suffer your qualms about eavesdropping on my employer, as I have none.”

  “If you know so much, tell me what happened to this boy’s mother.”

  Raziel gazed into the distance. “She was arrested at a protest of Benton Mining Corporation almost a year ago.”

  Caiden kicked at the floor, looking down.

  The glow in Raziel’s eyes intensified, flickering as if processing data. The same flutter repeated in the gargantuan light-wings near the roof. He swept an arm to the side, hurling a ribbon formed of holographic panes in a circle around his two guests that met his other hand. Fingers splayed and a pulse of light followed the ring. Each square went from white to black in sequence before faces appeared, rotating within.

  Caiden spun in place, biting his lip as he looked at each picture in turn. At the sight of a slender Marsborn woman, purple bruise under her eye, he cried without sound and pointed. Mamoru looked away, but after a few seconds went over and put a hand on the boy’s shoulder. Caiden hid his face, failing to stifle sniffles. He twitched as if to hide the shame of his sorrow, but Mamoru didn’t let go.

  Raziel lifted his gaze as the ring collapsed. Both sides of the holographic circle retracted into the chosen image, leaving it floating alone.

  “Mara Avoris.” Raziel tilted his head as if studying an unseen object in the air. “She is being held at a work camp run by Benton Mining, located in a remote region of Mars known as the Acidalian Sea.”

  The boy hid his face against Mamoru’s chest.

  “How do I get there?” asked Mamoru.

  Caiden’s head snapped up, mouth agape.

  Raziel held his right hand up. A basketball-sized Mars appeared hovering over it, and rotated until a blinking dot faced him. “It is quite far, and the air is not amenable to life, being mostly carbon dioxide. You would need a sealed e-suit as well as enough weapons to engage a corporate security force of sixty to seventy. They do not have defense bots you could take over for reinforcements.”

  Mamoru glanced down at Caiden, who fought to hold back tears. “I must correct what has happened to my honor. However, I am now conflicted. I need time to think and plan. As I have no further idea where to look in regard to my own needs, I may as well return the boy’s mother to him in the meantime.”

  “There is something I have never before seen, Mamoru. A strange presence in the GlobeNet searches for you. It appears to have an origin in the region of East City, UCF. It may be the impostor you mistook for me.”

  “Strange?”

  Caiden pulled away enough to look at Raziel.

  “Connections form with standard headers and route data that resemble an ordinary Vidphone connection. However, once the link is established, there are signal anomalies with no known corollary in any reference database. My best estimate is some manner of electromagnetic energy that has not yet been documented.”

  Mamoru glared at nothing in particular. Caiden gave him a desperate look.

  “I believe your assault on the Benton facility would be impractical. You are not given to stealth, Mamoru.” Raziel chuckled. “I know of someone who can liberate the enslaved miners without the risk of a full on assault.”

  “The Tí-zhèn everyone believes crazy?”

  Raziel smiled. “I offer you this bargain. Owe me a favor that I may call on at my discretion, and I shall unburden you of your guilt over the boy.”

  “For as long as I can remember, I have done the bidding of another for no reason other than it was my duty to do so. I did not question the ‘why’ of any task. I did as I was told.” Mamoru tightened his grip on Caiden’s shoulder. “For once, I will act of my own choosing. I will repay the favor he has done me.”

  The angel sighed. “I do not foresee that ending well for you. Your powers are impressive, but you are not an immortal.”

  “You are?” Mamoru raised an eyebrow.

  “I am incapable of death. If that fulfills your definition of immortal, then I am.” Raziel lowered his searing gaze to Caiden. “You have made a loyal friend in Mamoru, boy. However noble his intentions are, he will only find his end there. The chaos he brings to Benton Mining may claim your mother’s life as well. Do not think less of him for allowing another this task. My hand shall induce the change you cannot.”

  Caiden looked up. “What if he’s right, Mamoru? You get tired fast. A hundred guys… I don’t want you to die.”

  Mamoru stewed for a while, failing to come up with an effective counter argument. His hatred of ninja grew. A frontal assault would likely cause panic, rebellion, and death among those he attempted to save. “Very well. Give me the information you have on the entity in this East City.”

  “You’re leaving?” Caiden’s voice broke up.

  “I told you that you would not be safe with me on my journey.” Mamoru narrowed his eyes. “However, I will stay with you until we see if this Tí-zhèn is capabl
e of bringing your mother home.” He shifted to look at Raziel. “If your agent fails, I will not.”

  Raziel walked to the large spars from which he had descended. His holographic wings faded away as he backed up to the metal struts. They connected with the hissing and clicking of multiple interfaces linking. He rose once more to the top of his obelisk and the room filled with the light of a thousand glowing feathers.

  Raziel’s hood fell over a knowing smile. “She will not fail.”

  The Oni Returns

  amoru knelt on a straw mat, frowning at the pathetic plastic shimenawa teetering on fragile posts. The disgraceful thing was a solid piece―not woven. The chintzy simulacra of a thick rope with paper streamers threatened to fall off the kamidana he had ordered a week before. A wave of contempt bubbled up inside him, stalling his best effort to search for calm. What did he expect in this place, this East City? The best Shinto shrine they could offer: form pressed plastic and Epoxil in the image of little wooden sticks.

  Whoever made this deserved death.

  He closed his eyes, trying to ignore the way the West smelled. He tried to forget how everything here was fast, cheap, disposable, and utterly unworthy of any kind of pride in artisanship. Minutes passed, though the sounds of hovercar traffic outside continued to vibrate through the windows. Endless, at all hours of the day, he had not known true silence since leaving Mars a month ago. Raziel’s ‘hand’ had never shown herself, though the boy’s mother had returned alive.

  A thrust of his arms forward snapped his loose, white sleeves with an audible pop. Mamoru held thoughts of the Kami in his mind and brought his hands together in a sharp clap before his chest.

  A hollow clatter announced the shimenawa falling.

  Growling emanated from his throat as his frown deepened and his eyes narrowed to slits. With great care, he retrieved the green plastic ‘rope’ and balanced it on its holder. The Japanese-esque box behind it mocked him with small lines left by the mold-forming process, and the logo of Triton Manufacturing Corporation―in English.

  Fifteen minutes or so later, he had once more reached a state close to calm. He clapped once expecting the insulting object to fall again, but it did not. A second clap, still silence. Mamoru relaxed.

  “I have decided on a path with no end.”

  Mamoru bowed his head. Nami glided through a daydream. For an instant, a wisp of her scent drifted by. He recalled Caiden’s face the moment they entered the room full of dirty prisoners and found his mother. A boy of ten so overwhelmed with joy he sobbed like a child half his age. The far wall changed from Mars rock to rice paper and wood. Minamoto burst through a pair of intricate red doors with gold knobs, shouting. Darkness fell over his mind. His eyes opened, leaving him alone with the pathetic shrine sitting in the path of a creeping square of refracted headlight glare from outside.

  “Do I chase a ghost?”

  Thick, cold air brushed past him. A cloud of amber light took on the outline of a nude female figure drifting through the room. It glimmered along the dark windows, circling him. Wispy and indistinct, the figure hovered at the precipice of invisibility. Were the room lit by more than the unending passage of traffic outside, he would not have noticed.

  He drew a great breath, stiffening his posture as his eyes widened.

  The cloud brightened and became opaque, as if a glass hollow in the shape of a woman filled with smoke. Seconds later, the familiar tall blonde with paper-white skin stood before him.

  “Hello, Mamoru. Sorry if I am interrupting, I don’t speak Japanese.”

  Mamoru looked away from her nakedness, leaving his hands on his knees. He exhaled at the cheap kamidana. Disgraceful altar gets me a tainted oni. A sideways shift of his eyes caught sight of lemon-yellow hair and white thighs as she wandered in a circle, spinning.

  “This is a nice place. I won’t ask how you can afford it. Bet you nicked it.” She winked. “Told you that you’d wind up in the West.”

  If this is the will of the Kami. He clapped once again.

  Aurora jumped, and raised a hand. “Easy. I’m not here to hurt you. Be back in a tick. It’s a bit brassy in here.”

  He tracked her reflection across the front windows until she disappeared into the master bedroom. A loud thud emanated from the back, causing the shimenawa to fall and roll towards him.

  “Sorry!” she yelled. “Hey, you know I’d normally find it rather amusing to make you uncomfortable what with me standin’ around starkers. Really, I’m tryin’ to be nice to you.” Another heavy object fell. “Drat. ‘Ang on, then. I’ll repack this closet. Guess you’ve always had someone do this for you.”

  Watching the plastic shimenawa fall again brought his rage to the point of wanting to crush it with a fiery fist. He had stopped shaking for only a few seconds when she padded in, with one of his haori jackets draped over her shoulders. She tugged the cloth belt into a loose knot and let it the strands fall.

  Mamoru shifted his gaze to her feet, pale against the charcoal carpet. Shades of orange, blue, and violet decorated her legs, wherever light from advert bots outside painted her. He looked up, over blue silk that began at mid-thigh to more white where she had left the haori open to show cleavage. His stare lingered on her eyes, onyx from corner to corner.

  “Are you ready to accept that I am not some manner of demon yet?” She rested her hands on curvy hips.

  Mamoru clapped once more over the shrine―after replacing the fallen shimenawa―and bowed. “I do not know any more.” He let his forearms drape over his knees. “I have asked the Kami for guidance each night since I have returned to Earth, yet in three weeks’ time, their only answer is you.”

  Aurora bit one finger while making a playful face. “Are you saying I’m some kind of gift from your gods?”

  “Perhaps you are meant to lead me to that which I search for.” He whirled his head toward her with a snap. “Perhaps I am meant to send you back where you came from.”

  Her seductive smile faded. “You’ve been traipsing around the east coast for weeks, Mamoru. You’ve given up your search for honor and you’re taking freelance data grabs… I bet because you have nothing else to do. It won’t be long before you have quite a name for yourself in the community. I imagine there’s not a network in the world you couldn’t own.”

  He grunted, casting a lamenting frown at the piteous shrine.

  “If you’re so potty for ‘er, why not bring ‘er here?” She shifted, reaching for the belt. “We could have another toss if you want.”

  Mamoru raised a hand. “No. It is a matter of my honor in the eyes of Minamoto and Matsushita. I cannot simply ignore it.”

  “He’s ordered you killed on sight? Are you some sort of spoon? You know it was him that had your parents killed. Why do you have any loyalty to such a man?” She knelt and sat back on her heels. “He doesn’t give a stuff what you are. He ‘asnt a bastarding clue about us.”

  “When I became a samurai, I swore an oath to my station. The shogun’s will is all that matters.”

  “If that were true”―Aurora folded her arms―“you should kill yourself. But you haven’t.”

  “His decree is based on a falsehood. The one whom I seek has influenced him somehow.”

  “‘The blighter’s not a shogun, ‘e’s an executive of a corporation playing dress-up. That feudal stuff sodded off thousands of years ago. Your whole country’s like a damn addled theater company playing with live ammo.”

  “Do not mock my culture.”

  She let her head sag forward and ran a hand through her hair. “Look, Mamoru… You are one of us. I know you met with Raziel on Mars. I am no more a demon than he is an angel. I, like you, am one of the Awakened. We are psionics.”

  “I cannot read the thoughts of others.” He stood and moved to the floor-to-ceiling windows along the north wall. Hover traffic streamed by, mesmerizing patterns of light in the darkness. “Such ability would simplify things.”

  Like a glowing ghost, Aurora’s reflection shift
ed behind him, drawing near. He tensed as she came up behind him, close enough to feel her warmth. Ivory fingers laced through his hair and ran down his back, alighting on his hip. He glanced away.

  “Not all psionics are telepaths.” She let her chin rest on his left shoulder. “It’s more common among Awakened to wind up strong in one area and anemic in others. I’m not much of a telepath either. All I can get are surface thoughts… unless I hop inside someone.”

  “Were you born on Mars?”

  “No, Essex actually, not that there’s much difference.” She paused to watch a passing hovercar as it wobbled out of its lane. “I suspect you’re wondering about my appearance then. Awakened often have quirks. I look like this. You light on fire.”

  “Why?”

  She gave him a helpless look. “Why do you eat fish without cooking it? It just is.”

  Mamoru found the darkest patch of city he could, and tried to pierce it with a stare. A huge delivery bot, as big as a trash dumpster rumbled by, rattling the windows. The hollow plastic clatter of the shimenawa falling behind him made his blood boil. Never before had he wished so much for the utter destruction of an inanimate object.

  “You should not dwell on Minamoto. He’s the same as any wanker who’s got power over others and lets it go to his head. What is more important, what ‘e thinks of you, or Nami?”

  Mamoru bowed his head, eyes closed. “I do not know if her intentions were true.”

  “Forget Japan. Ask ‘er if she wants to join you here. If she agrees, you will know. S’not like she’s got anyfing left there either.”

  “I must avenge my honor first, even if I never return to my homeland.” He slapped his hand on the glass, sending a shuddering wave to the wall.

  “Minamoto has an idea of how powerful you are. He would see you destroyed before you could be used against him.” She leaned against his back, tracing her fingers around his chest. “Without allies, you will eventually fail.”

  Mamoru glanced to the left, through the open haori at her smooth, perfect breast. “You lack shame.”