by Andrea Speed
Ash glanced at him with a frown. “We really don’t want it to come to that.”
“But it’ll be the end of him as a superhero in the most embarrassing way possible.”
“How do you figure?”
“He sees himself as the good guy, doesn’t he? If he punches me unprovoked, he’s no longer a good guy. It’ll make a hell of a headline: Dark Justice Beats the Hell Out of a Civilian.”
“I would never let that happen,” Ash said. His expression was dead serious, and Kaede was touched.
“You could let him punch me once or twice. Just for the story of Dark Justice snapping. Then you could beat the shit out of him.”
“I’d be lax at my job if I let that happen,” Ash replied. He had his hands clasped in front of him and was a perfect picture of stoicism. Except… was there a little bit of emotion in his eyes? Kaede wasn’t sure he had seen it, or if he was seeing what he wanted to see. But their gazes met, and Kaede felt something deep in his gut that made his heart flutter.
The silence stretched on for a while, and Kaede felt compelled to finally fill it. “You don’t have to prove you’re great at your job. I know that.”
Kaede was sure they were having a moment, it wasn’t just his imagination, but then one of the tech geeks came in. “Mr. Tanaka, we have an answer for you, but you may not like it,” she said, not even looking up from her iPad. Dr. Jasmine Chu was head of the Applied Science Division (code for “secret-weapon stuff”). She was a young Chinese-American woman who always kept her hair up in a classic librarian-style bun and wore cat’s-eye eyeglasses on a silver chain. She wasn’t even thirty yet, but she kind of dressed like someone’s great aunt.
Kaede sighed, sitting back in his chair. He longed for another moment with Ash. “Why not?”
“Here, have a look,” Chu said and showed him her iPad. It was currently showing a video, clearly from a microscopic level, showing tiny silver slivers in a slightly viscous pale green solution.
Kaede stared at it a minute before generally grasping what he was looking at. “Are they little machines?”
“Essentially, yes, but they’re completely inert,” Chu said, taking her iPad back. “We’ve tried to charge them, to see if maybe they’d turn on or if we could get any kind of feedback from them, but nothing’s worked. Whatever they are, they’re dead.”
Kaede nodded, even though he knew they weren’t actually dead. Oh, that’s probably what his dad wanted anyone who got their hands on them to think, but he knew better. “Thank you, Dr. Chu.”
She took that as a dismissal and left. He was hoping he could have another moment with Ash but figured now was not the time.
“It was little machines?” Ash asked.
“I’m pretty sure they were the first ever instance of nanobots, molecular machines that can assemble or disassemble at will. And I bet they do work, there’s just a special way to unlock them that the lab doesn’t have.”
Ash raised an eyebrow at that. “But you do?”
“If I know my dad at all, I think so.” Really, he just hoped so, but he couldn’t believe he was wrong.
Because he was so eager to test his theory, they left early, and as soon as they were back in the penthouse, Kaede headed for his dad’s secret lab.
Among all the inexplicable, baffling equipment in this lab was a type of scanner he couldn’t quite figure out. It looked like an inset kitchen scale, but Kaede wasn’t sure what made it different from any other scanner. Now he wondered if it was made for a special, specific purpose.
Kaede opened the vial of the “superweapon” and poured about a tablespoon’s worth of the liquid into the scanner. He poked his finger with a needle and let a drop of blood hit the liquid. He then fired up the digital magnifier and had a look at what was going on.
Just like he thought, his blood was the key. The little “dead” machines were suddenly zooming around like they had somewhere to be.
Ash stood back, watching him with every appearance of quiet fascination, although he did hand him a Band-Aid. “What’s that?” Ash asked. He was pointing at the scanner.
At first, Kaede had no idea what he was referring to. Then he noticed that the little LCD strip, where the data was displayed, now had a word on it. The word was Program?
“Wow,” Kaede said, equally surprised that his guess was correct. “My dad not only created the earliest working nanobots known to man, but they’re programmable nanobots.”
“How are they a superweapon?”
“If they work how I think, they can deconstruct at the molecular level, as well as build. So if I programmed them to, say, tear up all the RNA and DNA they come across, and I inject the liquid into someone, that person will die a disgusting death. And there is no cure, so if I got tricky with the programming, they could die for days. Hell, I could be really sneaky and inject them into someone waiting for a certain time or trigger. So two days after I met the person, bam, they could be dead. And I can’t imagine any medical examiner would even know how to look for them in a postmortem. They’re a perfect baffling killer.”
“Along with several of your dad’s toxins,” Ash said.
Kaede pointed at him, nodding. “True. But you know that’s his sweet spot. He loves doing shit like this.”
Ash scratched his head. “I’m not actually sure what the point of it is. He has so many items like this. What’s one more?”
Kaede could only shrug. It was a fair point, but his father was a weird man. “Dad is obsessive, and he has a tendency to repeat themes. Deaths that can’t be explained. Hell, they don’t even have to be deaths. Since I’m assuming you can program the hell out of these things, you can target them for very specific damage. Like taking out certain memories, damaging certain nerves or muscles beyond repair, any one of a hundred nasty things. Nanobots could cover all bases.” Kaede found a syringe and drew the activated nanobots into it. Until he decided what he wanted to do with them, it was better to save them.
Ash considered this, nodding slightly. “It would be worth a fortune to the right people.”
“Yeah, it would.” And the horrors you could use it for. You could program them to take out certain genes, only target certain people, with a specificity that would have made Hitler jealous. They thought Dr. Terror’s designer virus was bad? Just wait until this horror was released on the world.
Kaede forced himself to think about something else as he put the nanobots away. He spied some of his father’s designer drugs on a shelf and had an idea. His dad made specific, “cleaner” drugs that would work for him (and therefore him and Ash) because while he wanted to make them immune to most things, he didn’t want to miss out on all the fun. Maybe it was time he and Ash had some fun.
“Computer, display flyer 11,” Kaede commanded once they were out of the lab.
The computer bleeped and did as it was told, showing the flyer on the TV screen. It was for a nightclub with the awkward name of Glittery, which was advertising a rave throwback night. Which was tonight, coincidentally.
“What say we go?” Kaede said. “We should have some fun while we’re here.”
Ash looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “Haven’t we already had fun?”
Kaede rolled his eyes. “Non-fighting-based fun. Have you ever been dancing?”
“Do you really have to ask that?”
He smiled at Ash’s sass. This was a new kind of Ash, and he approved. “Great. So this’ll be a new experience for you. But we have to get dressed appropriately. Come with me.”
He headed into the bedroom, and he didn’t need to check that Ash was following, because of course he was. Kaede at least had some of his clothes here now since he’d had some shipped in, and he sifted through them, trying to find something club appropriate that might fit Ash.
Kaede picked out a pair of fake leather pants, which he was sure Ash would look hot in, and a flimsy sleeveless T-shirt that was white but had a splatter pattern on it in a rainbow of colors. Although it might match Ash’s skin tone
, it would glow under black lights and would probably get see-through with sweat. Having seen Ash shirtless a couple of times now, he heartily approved of this. He had technically already seen him naked, but it wasn’t enough. It might never be enough.
Ash, much to Kaede’s surprise, had stripped down to his underwear while Kaede was going through his closet. He was just standing there in his black briefs as Kaede turned, and the sight of his lean, pale body with the colorful tattoo made Kaede’s heart skip a beat. He was alien and beautiful and just a little bit intimidating now that Kaede knew what he was. But no weapon had ever been so gorgeous.
“Uh, um. Try these on.”
Ash looked at the clothes skeptically but put them on without comment. They did look good on him, as Kaede expected. “Do we wear body armor or not?”
“It’s a dance, not a fight. Probably not.” Kaede picked out an outfit that sort of went with Ash’s, and realized there was no need for modesty. If Ash was willing to strip down, he should have been willing to do the same thing. Still, he did it in the closet, and the symbolism didn’t escape him. He put on dark jeans and a flimsy sleeveless tee that matched Ash’s, except the splash pattern was different. Still the same gay rainbow color scheme.
“And here, I thought we could take these for the maximum rave experience,” Kaede said, showing Ash the pills he’d stolen from his father’s lab.
Ash looked at them, and at him, with the same naked curiosity. “What are they?”
“They’re a cleaner version of ecstasy, or molly. It’s devised to work with us and our unique DNA.”
“Recreational narcotics?” Ash frowned. “Are you sure? I’ve tried drugs before. They never worked for me.”
“These will. Guaranteed.”
Ash shrugged, apparently willing to go along with whatever Kaede suggested. That kind of loyalty was nice—and weird. His dad probably got that all the time.
Because he thought it might be fun to use company resources like a real trust-fund brat, he had one of Kamani’s designated “drivers” (they were chauffeurs who could play bodyguard if necessary, but with Ash around that feature was redundant) pick them up in an armored company car. His name was Trevor, and he was a burly British guy who could have been Jason Statham’s stunt double. Despite their unusual outfits, he made no comment and was professional all the way. Kaede really liked him.
Once at Glittery, they were—well, Kaede was—recognized by someone, and he and Ash were not only waved to the front of the line but were let inside immediately, much to the disgust of the other people waiting in line. Kaede just shrugged, both sorry and not sorry at his continued VIP treatment. Sure, it was grossly unfair, but tonight he didn’t care. He wanted to show Ash a grand night on the town.
Inside, Glittery was all chrome and gel lights and polished wood. In other words, totally ridiculous. Kaede assumed the mirrored disco balls were the club’s attempt to be ironic, but it didn’t work. Still, they reflected crazy bursts of color and light and seemed to go with the thudding house music shaking the floor. It was reasonably packed, with neon colors glowing under black lights as people danced like they were semideranged, or at least well down the road to completely wasted. The bar’s specialty drink of the night was a “ravertini,” and Kaede ordered them each one. They were an almost Day-Glo blue, with a lollipop garnish, and Kaede swilled it down with one of the designer drugs.
“Where’s mine?” Ash asked.
“You don’t have to take it if you don’t want to.”
“I want to.”
Kaede still wasn’t sure he meant that but gave him the pill. Ash washed his down with the drink, then frowned and looked in his martini glass. “What was this supposed to taste like?”
Kaede shrugged and took a guess. “Blue?”
Ash seemed confused by that answer, which was fair enough. Didn’t make a lot of sense to Kaede either.
In about ten minutes, the drugs started to kick in. The music got less annoying, and Kaede had to admit he felt good, almost giddy. Ash seemed to be loosening up as well, as reflected by his softening body posture, and Kaede coaxed him out to the dance floor, even though Ash insisted he didn’t dance. Kaede assured him that almost no one here actually did; they just sort of moved, and he eventually got Ash to give it a shot. It was awkward and clumsy, but it left them laughing,
When they got off the dance floor, they slumped at a table, tried to raise their fluid levels, and found it difficult to stop laughing. Ash also seemed to find it hard to stop stroking Kaede’s hand. “Skin feels so nice,” Ash said, his voice nearly lost beneath the swirling pump of the music. It was the drugs, so Kaede resisted the urge to stroke him back, but he liked it. It did feel really good.
When they left Kaede called Trevor to retrieve them, and they wandered out in the cool night. The air was clean and caressing, its chilly bite strangely refreshing. But Ash, as stoned and happy as he was, was still on duty. “Looks like trouble.”
Kaede thought maybe he was joking, but there were three guys who looked really out of place in this neighborhood at this time of night. They were muscular, big, and wearing dark overcoats that did little to hide the fact that they were armed. They started stalking over, and despite the pleasing layer of drugs, Kaede felt a little annoyed. They couldn’t leave them alone for even one night?
Ash stepped in front of him, like a good bodyguard, and the guy with the squarest head raised his hands in a patronizing manner. “No need to get your panties in a bunch, kid. We have a message for you from Mr. Snow.”
“From who?” Kaede asked.
The squarehead sneered. “Now that’s not very nice, Mr. Hayashi. Yeah, we know exactly who you are.”
“Good for you. Wanna Popsicle?” Cyrus Snow was a name on Kaede’s Corwyn city index. Snow considered himself the “crime boss” of the city, and he and his goons had had many brawls with Dark Justice, although they never added up to much. Kaede had kind of wondered if they had a deal worked out where DJ could beat up some of his goons periodically while Snow kept his stranglehold on the criminal underworld. Either that, or Snow was blackmailing him. Kaede had no idea how DJ hadn’t taken him off the board otherwise.
Squarehead sneered and pushed in, but Ash put a hand on his chest and stopped him. “Don’t.”
“Don’t touch me, faggot.” Squarehead shoved Ash’s hand off him. “Mr. Snow’s giving you until tomorrow night to pack up your shit and get out of town.”
Kaede smiled, unable to believe any of this. This was really happening, right? He wasn’t hallucinating? Because this seemed like it could be a choice hallucination. “Pardon me?”
“Do you not speak English? Get outta town by tomorrow.”
There was so much to hate about this man, it was almost comical. “Or what?”
That question seemed to genuinely take him aback. “Whaddya mean or what? You stupid or something? Or else we kill your ass, Short Round.”
“And why would Snow feel threatened by me?”
Squarehead scoffed. “He don’t. It’s just that you and your kind are trouble magnets, and we don’t need any more of the tights brigade getting in on the action. So clear out.”
Ash glanced at him, waiting for the tacit approval to kick all their asses. Kaede decided to make a point first. “I have a message for you to bring back to Mr. Snow.” He then gave Ash a single short nod.
Ash, despite the drugs, couldn’t be separated from his training. He grabbed Squarehead’s arm, turned under it, and flipped him over on his back like the world’s laziest salmon. Squarehead gaped and started reaching for the gun beneath his coat, but that’s when Ash brought his heel down right on his windpipe. Ash pulled the kick—it was a love tap, really—but Squarehead started choking and gasping for air almost instantly. A harder shot would have been instantaneous death.
The two goons behind him sprang into action, but Kaede punched the nearest one in the throat as he withdrew his gun, and as he staggered and struggled for his own breath, Kaede grabbed his ha
nd and used the thug’s gun to shoot the second goon. He then ripped the gun out of the first goon’s hand and shot him point-blank in the head.
Head shots were remarkably brutal, and no movie that Kaede had ever seen got them quite right. It was like the entire head collapsed, like a violently deflated basketball, the gooey and bony insides splattering out the exit wound like explosive diarrhea. Extremely gross, and judging from the amount of splatter and the length of sidewalk it covered, the goons were using hollow points.
Ash had Squarehead’s arm in a lock, extended as far as it would go and twisted just to the edge of breaking, while his foot was still planted on the base of his throat. He couldn’t move, could hardly breathe, and was turning a color roughly equivalent to eggplant. His two men were dead, and at a single nod from Kaede, Ash could take him off the board too. But he didn’t because one of them had to live to deliver the message. Kaede put the thug’s gun in his coat pocket. It was either that or wipe the prints off, but he thought he might have a use for it later.
“So here’s what you’re going to tell your boss, asshat. You’re going to tell him anyone who threatens a Hayashi has just signed their death warrant. And if he isn’t out of town by sundown tomorrow, he won’t have a life left to forfeit.”
Trevor pulled up to the curb in the car and lowered the window, glancing over the carnage. “Problem, sir?”
“Nope. Just insects.” With a tilt of his head, he let Ash know he could release the thug, and he did. Kaede gave him a millisecond to relax before kicking Squarehead in the face. “Feel free to pass that on to Snow, dickhead.”
He and Ash got in the backseat of the car, and Trevor drove off, leaving the mess behind them. Kaede told Trevor, “Call in to HQ and let them know we need all the security cameras with a view of Glittery to have a strange glitch starting five minutes ago and ending two minutes from now.” Of course there was a system for dealing with this kind of thing. What supervillain worth his salt didn’t have these kinds of mechanisms in place?