The Trancer

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The Trancer Page 5

by Reki Kawahara


  The Accelerator leaned back against the concrete wall by the elevator as she spoke. Judging by her casual jersey and the damp sheen of her hair, she had probably just showered in her room on the fourth floor. Brushing a wet strand away from her cheek, she looked up at the skies, which had been rainy all afternoon.

  “Honestly…between meeting those weird escorts and getting mixed up with that weird robot, it’s been a very strange day.”

  Minoru guessed that the “weird escorts” referred to the pair from the Self-Defense Forces and the “weird robot” was Muser. Again, he smiled wryly. “The STS…I mean, Kakinari anyway…was definitely pretty dodgy, but you’re the one who came at Muser with all those weird accusations,” he remarked, opening his folding umbrella.

  “I didn’t ‘come at’ it with anything! It’s just an AI, anyway,” Yumiko said with a huff, though her expression said differently as she straightened up and stepped away from the wall.

  “…At any rate, it certainly is coming down hard…”

  “Yeah…”

  Minoru nodded, holding out his opened umbrella past the overhang they stood beneath. The sound of water dripping on top of the umbrella mixed in with the incessant sound of the falling rain.

  “…Well, I’d better head home. As long as nothing major comes up, I think the next time I come here will be in the new year.”

  Yumiko nodded briskly. “All right. I’ll stock up on ingredients.”

  “Huh? Uh, I didn’t mean I’d be coming to cook…”

  “Come on, you don’t mind, right? I happen to like your cooking. It’s certainly homier than the stuff DD makes.” Yumiko gave Minoru such an uncharacteristically bright smile as she spoke that he blushed and had to look away.

  “Th…that reminds me, I didn’t see DD or Oli-V today…”

  “Ah, those two… Oh, actually, on rainy days, they’re usually out on patrol. DD probably went along to act as his ‘radar.’”

  “Huh? Why on rainy days?” Minoru tilted his head, puzzled.

  Yumiko’s smile faded. “They have a Ruby Eye they can’t ignore, just like me with Igniter.”

  “Can’t ignore…?” Minoru repeated, but Yumiko didn’t seem to want to elaborate any further.

  “I’m sure they’ll tell you about it eventually…,” she said as she reached out to press the worn elevator button. “See you later.”

  “…Have a good evening.”

  With a wave and another light nod, Minoru walked away into the woods that surrounded SFD Headquarters. Rain continued to fall from the twilit sky, dyeing the toes of his sneakers a dark gray.

  With a thunderous roar, a large trailer truck sped past the sidewalk, splashing up a sheet of water that soaked into Mikawa’s jeans.

  However, he didn’t so much as raise an eyebrow, strolling in silence as he gazed over the main road.

  Four twenty p.m. With the winter solstice having passed not long ago, not to mention the overcast weather, night was already fast approaching by this time. Most of the cars driving along Route 246 through Aoyama had their headlights on, countless white streaks illuminating the rain-slicked surface of the road.

  The rain showed no signs of letting up. In fact, the online weather radar he’d pulled up on his smartphone showed a bright red storm cloud approaching from the west, bringing even more torrential rains. With the global warming of recent years, it wasn’t unusual for cumulonimbus clouds to appear even in the winter.

  Mikawa had been waiting for this.

  The people coming and going on the sidewalk were all shrinking under their umbrellas, their faces contorted as if they were enduring some misery. Mikawa, too, had once despised the cold midwinter rain that soaked into his shoes and froze his toes. But now, this cold was nothing to him. No matter its form, coming into contact with ice gave him a sense of calm. Truthfully, he would have been happy to go without the umbrella, but since standing in the pouring rain, getting soaked to the skin, would inevitably draw attention, he had reluctantly brought it along.

  All at once, the pattering sound of the rain lightly bouncing off the top of his umbrella intensified. The cluster of cumulonimbus clouds had arrived overhead. Soon, the sound reached an overwhelming volume. The weight of the umbrella in his right hand nearly doubled, and the throng of headlights was swallowed up in a torrent of water.

  It really was miraculous.

  Every one of these countless drops of water had been floating as clouds in the sky just seconds ago. If water couldn’t go through such remarkable phase transitions, there would be no rain, no rivers, nothing but deserts on this planet.

  I’m sure you would’ve understood how I feel…

  Wrapped up in his intoxicated reverie, Mikawa silently called out to his fallen comrade.

  Igniter, the Ruby Eye whose near death by drowning triggered the awakening of his oxygen-manipulating abilities. Through a strict training regimen, he had perfected his powers to the point where he could separate water into hydrogen and oxygen molecules. By that same token, he had undoubtedly learned how to do the opposite, taking the hydrogen and oxygen in the air to create water. If he had joined the Syndicate and formed a team with Mikawa, the two of them would have surely been unstoppable.

  So today, if nothing else, at least I can incinerate these humans with fire from their internal combustion engines and appease your spirit with their screams. Muttering this in his thoughts, Mikawa took a deep breath as a lump formed in his throat.

  As the midwinter downpour reached its peak, the cars on Route 246, heading down the ramp toward Akasaka, looked as though they were coasting on a waterslide. Mikawa focused his attention on the water that was rushing down the asphalt like a river.

  He pursed his lips and blew.

  Fwhooo…

  It was a long, thin, gentle exhale.

  KSHHHHH! The sound seemed to resound through the city—the same noise he’d heard from the high school boy’s throat at the family restaurant but magnified by a thousand.

  The slick black surface of the asphalt had transformed into a pure white.

  Immediately, the brake lights of all the cars on the ramp, already going several miles over the speed limit, turned red. Their disc brake calipers pressed into action, trying to slow the rotation of the tires by transforming the kinetic energy into thermal energy.

  However, the friction that should have existed between the tires and the surface of the road was all but gone. Because Mikawa had frozen the entire road into ice, from the beginning of the ramp to the bottom of the hill.

  Dozens of cars moving over eighty kilometers per hour avalanched down the road, which was now as white and sparkling as a skating rink.

  At the bottom was the Akasaka crossing, where the traffic signal had just changed, and a tanker truck had just appeared on the intersecting Sotobori Street.

  The first car to reach the bottom, a black minivan, spun wildly into the front wheel of the tanker, its front end denting with a crunch. The tanker’s driver panicked and hit the brakes, blocking the entire intersection in the process. Then the next group of cars came crashing down.

  There was the screeching sound of metal and a low rumble.

  Mikawa cast aside the umbrella in his right hand, half closed his eyes, and flexed his fingers as if settling them onto an invisible keyboard. For each car that crashed, he fiercely played a minor chord.

  In the intersection below, the body of the tanker, unable to take the repeated impact of the cars, finally gave way and cracked open in the middle, gasoline spilling in a golden waterfall onto the street. Then the last vehicle to come down the slide, a truck that looked to have about a ten-ton capacity, plunged into the middle, ripe with kinetic energy. Mikawa raised both hands high into the air.

  As he slammed his fingers down on the invisible keys, a flash of light swelled up from the intersection, and the entire area was swallowed into a blazing pillar of flame that billowed up to the dark clouds above.

  On the panel above the door of the outbound train
on the JR Saikyou line, a news flash began to spell out in white letters.

  As he hung onto one of the overhead straps and read the headline uneasily, it took Minoru a few moments to process the news before he let out a small gasp.

  On Route 246 in Harbour Ward, a multicar collision had occurred that included a gasoline tanker. The area was still in flames. A high number of casualties.

  Could a Ruby Eye have done this?

  Minoru considered the thought for only a moment before rejecting it as impossible. The scale of the accident was just too large. Maybe Igniter, the villain they’d fought two weeks ago, would have been able to cause such destruction, but even then he would have needed a large amount of water in the area in order to do so.

  Besides, it would take him over an hour to get from his current location, not far from Yonohonmachi Station (the stop near his home), to Harbour Ward. The culprit, if there was one, would be long gone by then, and even the lingering “red” scent of his powers would have vanished.

  If I was at SFD Headquarters in the middle of the city, I’d probably make it…

  Minoru shook his head again to clear away the thought. He knew that moving to their headquarters would make his job with them easier, but he still couldn’t make that decision so easily. What would he tell Norie? I suppose Chief Himi or Professor Riri could come up with a convincing story, but…

  As Minoru was lost in these thoughts, the train arrived at Yonohonmachi Station, and the doors in front of him slid open. Pushing against the cold breeze as he walked toward the ticket gate and home, Minoru pulled up his scarf and quickened his pace.

  Do not get drunk on murder.

  This was the first doctrine of the Syndicate.

  The deep crimson Ruby Eye parasites instill their hosts with an overwhelming urge to kill. It’s impossible to resist it. When experiments were conducted that prevented Ruby Eyes from killing for an extended period of time, the hosts slowly lost their minds and were soon completely taken over by the crazed parasite. Thus, members of the Syndicate could periodically request permission to use their abilities and murder people.

  When allowed to kill, the parasite responds by flooding the host’s mind with an intoxicating feeling of power. According to a member of the Syndicate who had been a regular drug user as an ordinary human, the sensation felt after killing far surpassed the high he’d experienced from heroin.

  In other words, it was just like training a monkey to do tricks. If the Ruby Eye killed according to the alien’s wishes, the parasite would reward its host with a trip.

  However, the Syndicate taught its members that they must not let that intoxication overwhelm them. Just like any powerful drug, if a Ruby Eye user were to kill haphazardly in order to chase that high, they would gradually start to lose their sanity. Down that path lay only the humiliation of being hunted by the “black.” The only way to avoid losing one’s powers or life was to resist the intoxicating trip that came with committing murder and withdraw immediately.

  Once, Mikawa asked a question about this to the woman who taught them—their leader, who was known as Liquidizer.

  “If we’re going to resist the Ruby Eyes’ will that much, why not just surrender to the Jet Eyes and ask them to take out our Third Eyes and turn us back into regular humans?”

  Liquidizer had replied with a smile.

  “The Ruby Eyes who are strong enough to be accepted into the Syndicate invariably have emotional trauma of an equal strength, you know. In other words, they hate the Syndicate and the human world alike. The murderous urges inside me may be induced by the parasite, but my desire to see this world destroyed has been with me for much longer. You are the same way, are you not?”

  “Yes” was the only response he could muster. Still, a bit peeved, he pushed a little further.

  “But still, that being the case, don’t you think the Syndicate is aiming a bit low? Our entire purpose seems to be just to help one another run away from the ‘black’ who keep hunting us.”

  At this, Liquidizer simply chuckled and flicked Mikawa’s forehead lightly.

  “Now, when have I ever said that? The Syndicate is not some benefit society that aims to survive by sneaking around. Our ultimate goal is one simple thing.

  “The extermination of humanity.”

  “……Heh.”

  Walking along the back alleys from Akasaka toward Aoyama Cemetery, Mikawa laughed to himself a little as he remembered.

  That comment had really captured his attention.

  The extermination of humanity? If all the Ruby Eyes in the Syndicate were to combine their powers and attack Shinjuku Station during rush hour, they could probably take out a thousand people at best. She was full of hot air. Besides, if they attempted such a major act of terrorism, the Japanese government would surely abandon their current concern for discretion, make an official announcement about the existence of Ruby Eyes, and finally devote the entire police and defense force to hunting them down. He doubted the Syndicate had anywhere near enough power to stand a chance against that.

  Mikawa was just one lowly member of the Syndicate, so he had no idea what the organization’s leadership—which apparently included several people above Liquidizer—might be thinking. But he didn’t really care if it was just to kill people off slowly over the course of several decades. As long as he could go out into town once a month on a rainy day and reduce the population by however many people, he would be content.

  At least for now.

  In that regard, he may have gone a bit overboard today. When he got back to the hideout, it was possible he’d receive a scolding from Liquidizer. However, he imagined she’d give him a pass if he explained that it had been a memorial for their dearly departed Igniter.

  Mikawa suppressed another smile. The rain had abated slightly but nonetheless continued to fall as he crossed Gaien Higashidori, the main strip in the Roppongi district, and entered Aoyama Cemetery.

  The expansive cemetery appeared to be empty of people. Rainwater splashed around him as Mikawa made his way west through the lines of tombstones. Once he crossed through here and got onto the subway at Omotesandou Station, there should be no chance of any “black” pursuers capturing him.

  As he was thinking this to himself, he drew near the part of the graveyard set aside for graves of foreigners, in the middle of the cemetery. At that moment, the hair on the nape of his neck suddenly stood on end.

  “……Tch!”

  Just as he tossed his umbrella away and leaped aside, a puddle on a nearby stretch of road suddenly burst upward with a snap.

  Was this an attack from the black ones? No, surely not. Someone was sniping at him with a gun, probably from the rooftop of the building on the west side of the cemetery. They must have been using a suppressor, since he hadn’t noticed the shot being fired.

  Even as his mind raced, Mikawa kept on the move, jumping aside once again to narrowly dodge a second bullet that broke through the raindrops where he’d been just moments ago and left a deep hole in a gravestone to the east. Live ammunition. And these were no warning shots, either.

  Usually, the black group’s objective was to neutralize a Ruby Eye, remove their Third Eye, and erase their memories, turning them back into an ordinary human. But this time, they were aiming to kill. Still, Mikawa guessed that the gunshots were meant to keep him in place while a nearby Third Eye user prepared to attack with their abilities.

  Mikawa ducked behind a large gravestone into what he hoped was a blind spot for the sniper on the west side of the graveyard and gathered his thoughts. How these people had tracked him down was of secondary importance right now. Right now, he had to figure out whether to get away or fight back.

  But this decision took him less than a second.

  It’s raining today, Jet Eyes.

  With a thin smirk on his lips, Mikawa stood up. If he could hold this position, the sniper wouldn’t be much of a threat for a while. During that time, he would deal with the attacker he suspected was near
by.

  Leaning his back against the gravestone and looking around, Mikawa dodged the attack by sheer luck.

  Just less than a meter to his left, a long metal blade cut deep into the gravestone, then slashed through, aiming at Mikawa. Had he rolled forward even half a second later, it would probably have been more than the hem of his jacket that got cut clean through.

  Mikawa rolled once on the wet flagstones and landed in a kneeling position, watching the blade silently sink into the center of the gravestone. In the next moment, a tall figure came into view from behind the stone. Mikawa recognized his face at once.

  “…Oh, it’s just you?” he drawled, flashing a smile.

  “Of course, who else?” the black user answered lightly, but there was no trace of a smile on his face. He was wearing a glossy gray bodysuit and a stern expression, and he was holding in his right hand a Western-style long sword, which he whipped briskly through the air a few times, his left hand behind his back. The raindrops his blade made contact with were all sliced neatly into two halves.

  Mikawa stood up unhurriedly, the strong chemical scent of the black ability reaching his nose. “You don’t know when to give up, do you, Divider? I thought I showed you last time that your power is no match for mine.”

  “Sorry, but I’m not in the mood for a pissing contest today, Trancer,” the Jet Eye responded, whipping out his left hand to reveal an automatic pistol, its jet-black muzzle leveled directly at Mikawa’s forehead.

  The handgun: the pinnacle of humankind’s development of deadly, portable weapons. Even to a Third Eye user—for all their enhanced speed, stamina, and unusual abilities—it posed more than enough of a threat.

  In fact, to be honest, a single pistol packed more punch than almost any Third Eye user’s abilities. Well aware of this, the black forces often used Tasers or knives to bring in “victims” of the “red” parasites so they could be treated.

  However, this compassion did not extend to Ruby Eyes who were found out as members of the Syndicate. Last time Mikawa had fought against Divider, some sneaky black agent had crept up on him from behind and zapped him with a Taser, nearly capturing him. He’d made a narrow escape thanks to the help of Liquidizer, but as a result, the “blacks” now knew he was a Syndicate member.

 

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