Seeing that there were no more questions to answer, at least for the time being, Tash nodded, then moved toward the door. “I’ll come back with the details of when exactly the next batch of citizen candidates will be taken in, and the things you’ll need to know before you go with them. As much as I know, anyway. Until then, get some rest.”
Roshike moved aside to let Tash leave, then sat down on the bed, his mind racing. He’d heard a lot about the history of the Batsu from Tetsuba, which had been handed down among the Kyoushi over the generations. Things that contradicted the ‘official’ history and most people were unaware of. Though there was much more he didn’t know.
Everyone deserved the truth about who the Batsu were, the things they’d done—and failed to do—and if Roshike could get ahold of those details, and the proof of them, that might be the beginning of a real revolution. It was worth all the risks. And the bare possibility he might succeed would be enough to keep him awake well into the night.
Chapter 6
The Belly of the Beast
At the Gaku gate
ROSHIKE SHUFFLED ALONG with the other candidates as the line slowly advanced through the outer gate. Fifteen others had shown before dawn to wait with him—seven young women, two middle-aged men, and six young men like Roshike. All had come dressed in similarly simple, cheap, and clean clothes. So he wasn’t standing out at all, which was good.
They were all anxious to one degree or another, and most had been escorted by even more nervous loved ones who had left them here with obvious reluctance. With a candidate ticket to serve as a pass to move unaccompanied in New Tokyo though, Roshike had come this morning in the wee hours all on his own and used the opportunity to scout the area surrounding the Gaku gate. It hadn’t been encouraging.
The vast stone wall encircling the complex was many meters high, almost three stories tall, and at regular intervals along the inside stood towers with floodlights and armed enforcers. Those rifles could be aimed at potential attackers—as if anyone would dare—or at people attempting escape. Not eager to put their aim to the test, Roshike hoped he’d be able to find an easier way out than over the wall—maybe he could convince them to let him simply stroll out the gate. Or, if he was going to dream, perhaps he’d just fly away from the place when the time came.
Most of the candidates gaped around at everything as they passed through the outer gate, and Roshike followed suit. It would’ve been his natural reaction anyway. As high as the stone wall was, it was also a few meters thick, with the only way in or out barred by imposing iron gates on either end. There was just enough room for one large vehicle to pass through. All in all, it resembled the ruins he’d seen of ancient fortresses rather more than he’d have expected of the technology-oriented Batsu.
Stronghold was a more appropriate description of the compound than Roshike had realized—until now, when it was likely too late to change his mind. Maybe in the many kilometers of wall enclosing the Gaku there would be a weakness he could discover and exploit. He’d just have to be that bit more clever when it was time to find a way out.
According to Tash there was another gate on the opposite side of the complex, but if it was as heavily guarded and closely watched as this one, forcing his way out—or trying to—wouldn’t be very intelligent. In addition to the rifle-wielding sentries looking out over the wall from above, four enforcers were on the ground forming a box around the gates. Two on either side of the outer gate and two on either side of the inner barrier. Their handguns were safely holstered, but then they would be present only to chase down anyone who avoided being shot by their rifle-wielding colleagues. Roshike didn’t much fancy the chances of a candidate who balked at this point.
As much of a challenge as leaving looked to be though, he wouldn’t be facing it for a while yet. He had a job to do first, and before he could start work on that, he had to get into the Gaku. For that he had his candidate ticket, so it should be simple. Easy.
Except he was carrying the shadow screen Tash had given him in a special pouch on his belt, which he now wore underneath his clothes. And there was always the possibility he would be recognized. His name should mean nothing to the Batsu, but if they had a picture of him, or if one of these guards or enforcers had encountered him in the past—however briefly—well, Roshike would have the chance to see how hard escaping would be a lot sooner than he’d hoped.
He looked a lot different now though. With not only his ponytail gone, but having gotten himself a proper haircut to appear an eager candidate for citizenship, nobody was likely to recognize him as the hakken-ya who operated in Old Osaka. What worried him was what he didn’t know about the Batsu’s technology. If they had a picture of him, would the Gaku-net know him despite the superficial changes he’d made? After all Tash had told him about what candidates went through to get past the gates, that was the biggest question remaining.
The line suddenly shuffled forward a meter as one of the candidates was waved into the complex. Roshike stepped forward to stand beside where the outer gate had been rolled back as the man in front of him advanced into the gap between gates. They’d all been required to show up before dawn, but when some guards had opened the gates shortly after sunrise, they’d had to wait to one side while a few people had been scrutinized by the enforcers before being allowed to leave. Then the candidates had been allowed to line up to face their own examination.
So some special citizens could leave, if not necessarily as they pleased, and their exit took priority over the incoming candidates. Which information Roshike filed away for future reference.
After waiting so long, some of his fellow candidates might’ve thought they would then proceed inside fairly swiftly. If so, they’d soon been disabused of that notion. The single file line of sixteen moved much slower than it should have, as the two guards who were processing each entrant checked them at the sort of snail’s pace that had to be deliberate. Finally the heavy-set, middle-aged man ahead of him was waved through, and Roshike advanced to hand the flat pack he’d made of his raincoat to one of the guards. The thug began searching through it while the other started running some kind of wand in the air around Roshike. The thing beeped as it passed over one of his pockets.
The guard looked at a screen in his hand which the wand was plugged into and frowned. “You have some buttons but no screen?” At least that portion of Tash’s information had proved correct—the scan didn’t show the shadow screen.
Roshike dug the buttons out of his pants pocket and held them out in the palm of his hand. “We get a new screen here, a proper one, don’t we? So I gave my old screen away.” To whoever cleaned out his old bolt hole in the box hotel, presumably.
The guard shrugged, giving the buttons a cursory glance. Not that it would’ve mattered if he’d examined them properly—they were only ones which contained relatively modest sums of bits. The buttons with larger amounts or programs on them, Roshike had inserted into his shadow screen. To keep those undetected.
And he wasn’t surprised the guard had no interest in the buttons he’d held out. As soon as any button was inserted into a registered screen, the Batsu would know precisely what was on them. That was one of the reasons a shadow screen was essential to even attempt this job.
The man snorted and looked over at where the other guard was carefully going through the things that had been folded up in Roshike’s raincoat. “We need to see your candidate card.”
Returning the buttons to his pants pocket, Roshike took the ticket from his shirt pocket and held the shiny piece of plastic out to the man, who took it and pretended to examine it closely before handing the card back. Since the thing could only be verified electronically, that had to be just another intimidation tactic. They hardly needed so many.
Then the other guard thrust the raincoat and all it had contained in one big jumble unceremoniously into Roshike’s arms. Then they waved him on to the next checkpoint.
On the other side of the inner gate, beyond the two enforc
ers, a man and woman both wearing gray suits stood waiting off to one side and holding large screens in their hands. Behind the pair sat two vans with their doors open, and Roshike saw the middle-aged man who’d preceded him climbing into one.
The man in the gray suit beckoned to Roshike. “Ticket?” And held out his hand to take the candidate card, which he then inserted into a slot on his screen.
After he’d apparently validated the card, he lifted the screen to point the back side of it at Roshike’s face for a moment. Then he flipped the screen and showed Roshike the picture he’d just taken. “Press your thumb anywhere against the screen, and your face and fingerprint will be synched to your record. You’ll then be able to use your thumb to unlock the door to your room, activate the new screen we give you, etcetera.”
Roshike didn’t hesitate. Either he would be exposed or not, but he’d always been careful to avoid leaving his prints anywhere the Batsu might search for them, so he ought to be safe, but he couldn’t be sure. He placed his thumb over the picture of himself and waited while the man in gray withdrew the screen and continued processing his registration. If either photo or print matched whatever might be in the Gaku-net’s database, he should soon know.
Roshike knew the Batsu had a picture of him as a boy, but that should be alright. It was the chance that they’d obtained a more recent likeness he considered the real threat, and the possibility he hadn’t changed his appearance sufficiently to fool the computer. This was the moment of truth.
But when Mr. Gray, as Roshike was starting to think of the man, finished fiddling with his screen, all he did was nod and wave him toward the van on the right. “Find a seat. When we’ve completed processing everyone, then we’ll take you all to the next stop.”
Roshike smiled nervously and bowed his head, then strode across to the van and through the same open door the man before him had. Taking the two steep steps up into the cool, dark interior of the vehicle, he saw that behind the driver’s seat there was an aisle down the middle with two rows of two seats on either side. Eight regular seats, then a bench at the back that would fit three. Or four at a squeeze.
It was all quite comfortable, luxurious even, by Roshike’s standards. And the candidates, the men at least, who’d preceded him were already there sitting and waiting patiently. Studying them while he walked down the aisle toward the back, he saw four young men had taken seats spaced apart from each other, and two of those seemed to be sleeping. But then it had been a long, trying morning. There was little to distinguish them by appearance—one wore glasses, another was tall and gaunt, a third seemed short and shifty-looking, and the fourth completely unremarkable.
Then there was the overweight fellow sitting on one end of the back bench. Roshike nodded at him and took the other end, wondering what these people’s stories were. None of the candidates had said a single word to each other while they’d waited outside the gates, and so far that silence had remained unbroken, as far as he was aware. He would’ve expected their common situation would’ve had them talking, but perhaps none of them wanted to stand out by being the first to speak. He certainly didn’t.
Despite their nervousness, they all had to want to be there—their tickets would’ve been too difficult to come by, by whatever means that had been, for a person not to be driven to become a citizen. Except for Roshike, but he was driven to get in. Maybe the others had reasons of their own they wouldn’t want to share their stories. As curious as he was, he had to hope he wasn’t the only one who would prefer to preserve his privacy.
According to Tash, a limited number of tickets were handed out each year to elite citizens—to control the number of new candidates the Gaku would have to absorb—and they sold or bartered the cards away however they chose. Or had them stolen. The Batsu apparently didn’t care how a potential citizen came by a ticket, only that they’d wanted it enough to find a way. At least that was Tash’s understanding.
As far as anyone on the outside knew, they were really one-way tickets to a prison cell. But Roshike doubted that. People paid substantial sums to obtain a candidate card, and the easiest way for a non-citizen to earn that kind of credit was by selling information to the enforcers. And the Batsu wouldn’t reward their informers by tossing them in jail. The mikkokusha were too valuable to them.
Such spies could continue to be useful, keeping an eye on their fellow citizens, and Roshike needed to remember that any of the other candidates could be eyes and ears for the enforcers, and he wouldn’t be able to trust any of them. Even if a person didn’t have a history of informing to the Batsu, the temptation might be too strong, should they find out who he was. Or see him doing something suspicious.
With a sigh he turned to the window and gazed out and across to the other bus. He could see two of the female candidates sitting in window seats with their faces up against the glass, staring out but not looking at anything. So, the candidates were being segregated by gender. At least for the length of the ride to wherever they were headed next.
Lacking anything else to do, he watched as the remaining candidates were registered and then directed to the appropriate van. It felt like forever before those six candidates were processed and came aboard the vans to join the rest, and by the time the three other men had climbed in, the cool interior of the vehicle had become cramped and sweaty.
At long last the man in the gray suit climbed into the van too. Standing at the front, he introduced himself. “I’m Hiroshi Jordan, a level-five administrator and the one responsible for your initial registration. Which isn’t done yet, so I hope you all had breakfast before you came. Because lunch is a long way off.” If that had been meant as a joke, it failed to amuse anyone.
He didn’t seem to mind their lack of response, just nodding and taking the driver’s seat while one of the guards boarded the van to stand there at the front. With his arms crossed and a glare for everyone, he didn’t look likely to attempt any comedy.
Hiroshi waited for the other vehicle to precede them, then rumbled away behind the women down what seemed to be a main thoroughfare. From the gate it ran straight in toward the middle of the complex. Roshike spent the whole time as they traveled to the unknown ‘next stop’ staring out the window, trying to get the lay of the land as best he could. In the few days he’d had to prepare, he’d gone over all the information Tash had been able to provide concerning what going into the Gaku would entail, like the ‘search’ at the gate and what it would be like inside, including some rough maps. Which had been lacking lots of detail and didn’t substitute for studying the terrain with his own eyes.
Nothing had prepared him for the reality of the size and scope of the place. Of course Roshike had known the Gaku was huge, but it was different seeing the wide roads and the space between buildings. Then there were the trees, the green lawns, and the walkways crisscrossing the grass. It was all built on an enormous scale that surprised him, like the wall that circled the compound. The cities outside were big but all crammed together.
It wasn’t as big and beautiful as the wilderness he was familiar with, away from the ruins of the old civilization, but it was far different from any urban environment he had seen before. All that space and the new buildings—without crumbling remains littering the landscape, it felt fresh in a way new construction on the outside didn’t. It was clean.
And that was probably how the Batsu began the conditioning of new citizens—the very atmosphere here announced that everything was so much better than anywhere else. But Roshike didn’t want to like living here, and he didn’t want to start thinking the way they wanted him to. He could see he’d have to stay mindful of the effect this place had on him.
Still, looking at the close-cropped grass, freshly painted buildings, and the complete lack of garbage lying around anywhere, it was difficult not to be impressed with how well-maintained everything was. It would take lots of work, Roshike reminded himself, and somebody to do the work. How were they treated, those workers, and did they even get to live here
?
But instead of all the pretty scenery, he needed to be paying attention to all the different landmarks and where they were in relation to each other, so he could orient himself when he had to get around the place on his own. As they headed into the center of the complex, he saw small houses, large apartment buildings, and plenty of other structures whose purpose he could only begin to guess at. Some of those places seemed abandoned, at least for the moment, while others were centers of bustling activity.
As they continued along, he became more and more certain they were heading for the administrative headquarters of the Batsu, situated at the very heart of the Gaku. A place Roshike was very interested in seeing as it was the most likely location for the secured servers he was looking for. Not that he would necessarily need physical access.
The van passed by a circular street and the line of widely spaced houses it contained and then it was driving through a vast, empty stretch of green lawn broken only by the main road. And in the center of that space on a slight rise stood a mammoth building that made Roshike’s hackles rise. A single concrete block five stories high and almost a kilometer long on every side. Few windows broke its surface, giving a sense of impenetrable depth. It looked like something vast and dark hunkered within, peering out through those small eyes.
The effect was heightened as the van neared the main entrance and Roshike noticed that the glass of those doors was dark and opaque, preventing anyone from seeing inside. Though he imagined those on the other side of the special glass could see well enough what was on the outside. Except for the one detail of the doors, the building was the same as the Batsu headquarters in new Osaka, simply on a larger scale. And the sight sent Roshike’s mind back to that awful night when Teresa had been killed.
Suddenly swamped by those memories, a tide of emotion washed over him and threatened to drown out the here and now. The vividness of those events and her death in such a startling way was for a moment more real than the sweltering van, or even the gray monstrosity they were approaching. It had all gone wrong.
Whispers of the Dead (Miraibanashi, #1) Page 7