kashiwrites (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
kashiwrites) wrote2007-11-19 05:36 pm
kashiwrites) wrote2007-11-19 05:36 pm
Entry tags:
NaNoWriMo 2007 (sequel to 2005) - Anime-Style Story - Chapter 5
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
“...so what you’d want here,” Jason said, “would be what, exactly? A community centre? A dwelling?” He surveyed the rolling Mars landscape around their work group, his eyes narrowed as he thought about the alternatives.
Julie dug a toe into the reddish dirt at her feet, contemplating the possibilities. “It would depend,” she mused, “on what was under here. We’d need to do some seismic work first, to discover if there are any underground springs. If we didn’t have to bring water in to get the ecosystem started, we’d have a head start.”
Jason nodded, his normally white-blond hair turned a drab brownish blond in the orange-toned daylight. He blinked at the holoscreen hanging near his face, and the item “seismic survey” appeared on his list.
Akio stood several feet away, at the foot of a low rise. “I think,” he said, “you’d put a dwelling at the bottom here, and maybe curve some low trees around it, going up toward the top.”
“Wouldn’t you want the dwelling higher?” Jason wondered. “If it was below the trees, wouldn’t it miss a lot of sunlight, and take a lot of energy to heat?”
“No, not really,” Akio shook his head. “Look,” he pointed, “the sun rises over there – to one side of the dwelling – and would travel overhead, so the solar panels on the roof would catch the energy. It wouldn’t be a problem, as long as the trees didn’t come really close. And meanwhile, the trees could retain moisture in the hill, and the area at the foot of the hill would be more hospitable.”
Kenji, standing with him, nodded agreement. “We’d have to pump the water up for the first little while, but eventually the natural rhythms would reduce the need to pump, and they might even take over eventually.”
“Right, then,” Jason said. “So we’ll go for a dwelling here, instead of anything larger. And first we’ll do the seismic work.”
Kenji added, “But we’d better make two plans. One for if there’s water under the surface somewhere, close enough to get at, and another for having to bring it in from somewhere else.”
“I’ll grab the maps of nearby areas that have already been surveyed,” Julie said, adding notes on her own holoscreen. “If we do have to bring it in, at least we can try to get it from somewhere close.”
“Okay, so you get going on the geological side, Kenji and Akio can work on the hillside and pick some choices of possible vegetation, and I’ll get designing some buildings,” Jason said. “Is that it for today, do you think?” When the others nodded, he added, “All right, then I think I’ll go offline. I have some preparation to do before my next class.” His avatar winked out of the Mars landscape.
Julie joined Kenji in looking up at the small hill. “This feels a lot like working with Miaki and the others, doesn’t it?” she chuckled.
“You’re right,” he agreed. “At least if a boulder rolls down this hill at some point, it won’t literally crush us. That’s different, anyway.”
Akio peered at them curiously. “So, what’s up with you guys and Miaki and the others these days? You all seem to be together most of the time. Are you doing another top secret project?”
Kenji hesitated, but Julie answered blithely, “What, saving the world once wasn’t enough for you, but you want us to try it again? Really,” she added, shaking her head with a smile, “some people are never satisfied.”
She’d like to have thrown him off the track, but unfortunately he’d seen Kenji’s expression. “Yeah, well, maybe you don’t want anyone to know. But there’s a rumour going around that you’re doing something again, like you did last year.”
“We know about the rumour,” Kenji muttered. “We’re having to avoid people following us all the time, even when we go to the gym or the dining hall, or anywhere. It’s getting old.”
“Well, you’re heroes, you know,” Akio informed him cheerfully. “You must enjoy that, at least.”
“Not really.”
“So you’re saying there’s nothing going on? You just hang out, all your free time, because you’re great buddies?”
“Well, we are great buddies, you know, Akio,” said Julie. “So it kind of makes sense that we’d hang out.”
“But you do it a lot. Like, all the time,” he reminded her. He eyed Kenji again, noticing the young man’s gloomy face, and suddenly blurted, “Is it your dad, Kenji? Is he doing something again?”
Kenji’s glance darted to his face in alarm. “He – he’s in prison. How could he be ‘doing something’?”
Akio shrugged. “Give someone computer access, and there’s a lot they can do. Maybe I’m wrong about this, but, well...if there is something going on, and you need help with anything...just ask me, okay?”
Julie and Kenji stared at him in surprise. This was the last thing they’d expected him to say when he’d started asking about their private projects.
Julie laughed a little. “What? You want to get famous too?”
The other grinned. “Oh, that part would be nice, I’m sure. Well, unless Kenji’s right and it finally gets old.” His smile faded. “But I thought about you guys a lot over the summer, the way you had to do all that work alone, because you didn’t know who you could trust. And how dangerous it was, and how Miaki and Toshi almost died. And that’s just not right, you know. So...well, I just wanted you to know that if anything else comes up – if you become a target or anything, because you wrecked all those people’s plans – and you need help with anything – well, you can trust me. If you need help, I’ll do anything. I just,” he shrugged awkwardly, “I just wanted you to know that.”
“Akio,” Kenji said, “that’s really nice. We really appreciate that.”
“Yeah, well,” Akio said with a rueful grimace, “one reason I did so much thinking the last few months was that I had believed a lot of worse rumours about you last year, Kenji. You know – “
“The ones that said my father had bought a place for me at school, and I didn’t belong here.”
“Yeah, those. And when I found out what was really going on, I knew how stupid I had been, and how – how mean. So...you know. I feel really bad about that. And I don’t want you to have to do anything like that again, without a lot of backup.”
“Akio, Kenji’s right,” Julie said. “We really do appreciate it. And you know what? If we find that we need that sort of help, we’ll tell you and see what you can do.”
“Good.”
Later, when they were walking together back toward the dormitory wings, Kenji asked, “So you don’t trust him? You didn’t tell him there really might be something going on.”
“I’m sure he’s perfectly trustworthy, but I didn’t want to risk it, just in case,” she answered.
“So we’re back to that,” Kenji sighed. “Not trusting anyone, even people who might be our friends.”
“I’m afraid so. But let’s get going, to meet with the others. The sooner we can finish all our investigations, the sooner we can relax with people again.”
******
The two of them sat in the gazebo waiting for the others. Or rather, Toshi sat sprawled on one of the benches, arms spread to either side along the top of it, while Miaki stood in the entry, gazing out across the garden. He’d tweaked the fountain again a couple of days ago, and now watched the bounce and dance of the water with a critical eye.
“I think I need to watch a couple more vids,” he murmured, half to himself. “It still isn’t looking quite right.”
“You could always just import something,” he heard Toshi say. When he glanced back over his shoulder with raised eyebrows, he saw his cousin grin back at him. “Yeah, yeah,” Toshi laughed. “I forgot who I was talking to. You’d never do such a thing unless you were really pressed for time.”
“Neither would you.”
“True enough.” Toshi looked around the gazebo. “You’ve done a perfect job on this place, though,” he remarked in appreciation.
“Well, I did have my own memories to work from,” Miaki smiled, turning back to concentrate on the fountain again. “Remember that gazebo we had in our yard before father and I moved to the city after mother died?”
“I do. It was a cool place.” Toshi paused, and then sighed. “You’re looking backwards again.”
“People do, you know. People don’t forget things from their past. Especially nice things.”
“But healthy people,” said Toshi, an edge creeping into his voice, “don’t dwell on them constantly. Or brood about them year after year. Like you do.”
Miaki tensed, still not turning. “I try not to,” he answered defensively. “I’ve got lots of future plans, and things I’m looking forward to. But sometimes...I just remember. The good and...the bad. I remember. I can’t help it.”
“Remember,” Toshi retorted. “Or maybe wallow is more like it.”
Miaki turned slowly, and saw the irritation on his cousin’s face yet again, an expression he was becoming unpleasantly familiar with lately. “Tosh...,” he began, reluctance dragging at him. “What...what’s wrong?”
“What do you mean?” Toshi eyed him with a distinct air of suspicion.
“I don’t know. You seem to be...upset with me so much these days.”
“Oh, don’t be an idiot,” his cousin retorted. “You’re imagining things.”
“I really don’t think I am – “
“Hi there!” came a voice from beside the fountain. “Are we late, or are you guys early?”
Julie and Kenji came up the walk, and just behind them, Jin and Chika appeared from behind the fountain.
Miaki put on his neutral face, abandoning his questions with admitted relief. Maybe tomorrow he’d ask Toshi again. Maybe his cousin would finally have had enough sleep – or something – and they could really talk. He was beginning to feel uneasy around him, and that had never happened before; they’d always been very close, and could talk about anything. Tomorrow, they’d talk.
“We’re early,” he responded to the newcomers. “I’ve been trying to decide how to make the fountain better.”
“Typical,” Julie grinned as he stepped aside for her and she climbed the steps.
“By the way, you guys,” Kenji said as he followed her in. “Akio thinks there’s something going on with us, and offered to help us out if we need it. He told us that just now, at the end of our last class.”
“Hm,” Miaki mused. “Nice gesture, but did you tell him we’d have to pass on it?”
“Well, I wasn’t going to tell him we didn’t trust him,” Julie answered, “so I told him we’d ask for his help if we ran into something where we thought we might need it.”
“Are you sure that was wise?” he frowned. “Don’t you think you almost as good as admitted to him that something’s going on?”
“Relax,” said Toshi. “I think people are catching on to that already. So it’s better to try to defuse things than deny them outright. Denying them just confirms to people that we’ve got something to hide. And makes them more determined to find out what it is.”
“Well...I suppose that’s right,” Miaki agreed slowly.
“Of course it’s right. What – you don’t think that interpretation has any validity just because you didn’t think of it yourself?”
Miaki stared at him, and silence fell. Toshi looked around at the group, and laughed slightly. “All right, that was a bit harsh. Never mind. Let’s hear how things are going with the rest of you.”
Jin observed the two of them carefully, as the others began to make quick reports. Miaki had fallen silent and seated himself on one of the gazebo benches, contemplating his hands in his lap, his face expressionless. Toshi, meanwhile, chatted and laughed with everyone else as though he hadn’t just said something that had stung his cousin into withdrawal.
Miaki’s pain and confusion almost radiated from him. At least, Jin could see it as clearly as though he’d shouted it; she wondered if anyone else had really noticed. They seemed to be behaving pretty normally, so she wasn’t sure. She hoped it was just that they were trying to play down the moment.
Toshi, on the other hand, although he might have appeared at first sight to be behaving as normally as the others, was a little too emphatic with his laughter, a little too feverish in his bright, witty comments. It was almost like him – but not really. It was almost – the thought occurred to her suddenly – as though she were watching a caricature of Toshi, and not the young man himself. She frowned, watching.
Julie and Kenji didn’t actually have much more to report than they did last time: there still didn’t seem to be any suspicious things coming out of the prison where Mr. Tanaka was being held, and the ISCE system seemed equally secure.
“What about the regular ins and outs, like email and messaging?” Chika asked, looking at Miaki. When he didn’t reply, still seeming preoccupied with his hands in his lap, she promoted again, “Miaki?”
“Hello, Cuz!” Toshi called. “Wake up. You’re wasting our time, daydreaming.”
Miaki glanced up, startled. “Oh. Sorry. I haven’t found anything either. So far, everything still seems clean.”
“And I,” Jin added, “still haven’t found anything suspicious among the staff.”
“So everything else from the rest of you is clear,” Chika nodded.
“Including all the simulations I’ve looked through,” Toshi supplied.
“Right. But I’m afraid I’ll have to blemish the record a little, myself,” said Chika. “I’m still picking apart that odd code you and Kenji found the other day, and it’s starting to worry me a little. I’m becoming convinced that it’s not as benign as we thought, not merely a bit of ‘awkward’ coding.”
Now Miaki glanced up, sharply, eyes fixed on her avatar’s face. “What’s wrong with it?” he demanded.
“I’m still not sure. But something has suggested itself, and I need to find out for sure. And that’s that this bit of code, deep down inside, seems to be directed at Toshi specifically.”
Miaki gasped. The others turned to stare at Toshi. He returned their gaze with raised eyebrows. “That,” he said, “is the silliest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Maybe it is,” said Chika, “but we can’t know for sure until I’ve analyzed it completely.”
“Are you trying to tell me that these simulations – some of them standard sims created before I even came to ISCE – were written way back then, specifically with me in mind? That’s crazy. Absolutely crazy.”
“Like I said,” she agreed, “it might be. But I just won’t know until I finish – “
“Did you put her up to this?” Toshi demanded of his cousin, jerking to his feet.
Miaki stared at him, mouth open. “What – what do you mean?”
“Is this supposed to be some way of making me nervous and keeping me close by? Keeping me on a leash – so I can’t be independent of you?”
“Toshi!” Julie cried angrily. “What a stupid thing to say!”
“Why?” he retorted. “I’ve been his babysitter for two years already. It would be no surprise that he doesn’t want to lose his security blanket. But I’m getting really sick of it. It wouldn’t surprise me if he stuck that code in there himself, to zap me with.”
“That’s not – I never – I couldn’t – “ Miaki was stunned almost to incoherence.
“Is there anything else?” Toshi demanded of the group in general. “If there isn’t, I’m done here.” And before anyone could even answer him, he logged himself out, and his avatar disappeared.
After a shocked silence, Chika said, “Miaki, don’t do anything right now, okay? Just let him cool off.”
He seemed to have huddled into himself, bent over on the bench, hands clenched tightly into fists on his knees. “I don’t – I – I just want to be alone,” he stammered.
“Are you sure?” Julie asked softly. “I’m sure he didn’t really mean any of that. Maybe we should talk about – “
“No!” he cried. “I – I – please, Julie, everyone. We can talk later, I promise, but right now – I just need to be alone. Please.”
“Okay, you guys,” Chika said. “Let’s give him some space. Let’s log out. But Miaki – we will talk later. Don’t even think you’re going to shut us out again.”
He nodded weakly, and she logged out, followed by Kenji and Julie. Jin hesitated for a moment, watching him, and then finally, reluctantly, logged herself out as well.
As she pulled off her equipment, she heard Kenji moan, “It’s my father, isn’t it? This is his fault, isn’t it? He’s done something awful!”
“We still don’t know that for sure,” Chika shook her head. “Don’t draw any dire conclusions until we know.”
“Oh, I already know,” Kenji maintained bitterly. “And you’d admit it too, if you were being honest.”
Chika sighed. “It does look that way,” she agreed slowly.
“Kenji,” Julie said suddenly. “Maybe Miaki won’t agree to talk about this – but you’re going to, whether you want it or not. Come with me.” She started toward the door, then glanced back at him over her shoulder. “Come on.”
He watched Miaki for a moment, sitting silent at his terminal, gloves, boots, and goggles still on. Then he sighed morosely, and followed Julie out of the room.
“I tell you,” Chika remarked, “if poor Akio could see moments like that, I think he’d be very depressed about his chances.” She favoured Jin with a wry smile, but it vanished almost immediately. She cocked her head toward the quiet, seated figure at the terminal. “Are you staying?”
Jin smiled. “Of course.”
She didn’t have to wait long after Chika was gone. In perhaps five minutes, she saw Miaki sigh and pull off the goggles, and then begin pulling at his gloves. He turned the chair and saw her, and didn’t seem surprised. The two of them had had this sort of encounter before.
She asked without preamble, “Are you going to be all right?”
“Does that even matter any more?” he answered morosely.
“When you talk like that – yes. You know it matters very much, to all of us. And you know we...care a lot about you, Miaki.” She could have put it in stronger terms than that, but she knew it wasn’t really the time to get embroiled in the larger implications of stronger words.
He hugged his arms across his chest, bowing his head. “Just let me get my head straight,” he whispered. “I promise we can talk later. Just...give me some time. All right?”
“Of course,” she nodded. “I just wanted to make sure you’d be okay. I know you’ll want to pull away and withdraw from us, but you can’t let yourself do that. We’ll figure everything out, but you need our help to do it. You have to remember that.”
“Yeah, sure.”
“I mean it,” Jin said firmly, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I want your promise, Miaki, that you’ll keep talking to us, and working with us to understand what’s going on. Promise me. I won’t leave until you do.”
She saw his lips turn up in a faint smile. “You’re the worst of the whole lot, you know,” he murmured. “You’re better at blackmailing me than any of them, and that’s saying a lot.”
“Why thank you,” she answered. “That’s one of the nicest things you’ve ever said to me.”
Miaki glanced up sharply, to see if she was serious, and at the sight of her smile, relaxed again. “If you’re not going to leave unless I promise you, well, I guess I don’t want you to have to move into this room permanently. So...okay. I promise I’ll keep talking to you.”
“Good. Then I’ll let you leave too.”
She turned as though to depart, but suddenly he clutched at her arm and pulled her close, throwing his arms tightly around her.
“Thank you, Jin,” he whispered. “You – all of you – you’re part of the reason I’m still alive. Don’t think I ever forget that.”
Jin pressed her cheek against his shoulder for a moment. “We do love you, you know. We’re not going to let you fall.” She pulled away. “Now. Time to go. Come on.”
She turned and walked toward the door. She heard him mutter, “Slave driver,” and then begin to follow. She smiled as she walked out into the hallway.
*******
He jerked awake, heart pounding, wondering what had awakened him. Although he couldn’t remember what, or if, he’d been dreaming just now, perhaps it was something in a dream.
Or perhaps not. He heard a movement, realized he’d heard it just before waking, and knew before he turned to look that someone had come into his room. And given that only one person had access to his room besides himself – he also knew who it was. Rolling over in the bed, he recognized the vague shape leaning against his door.
“Tosh…?” he yawned. “What is it?”
“Miaki,” came the faint whisper, and then a long, shuddering breath.
“What’s wrong?” In alarm, Miaki reached for the lamp switch.
“No! Please – no light.”
Miaki sat up. “Okay. No light. What’s the matter, Toshi?” he asked softly, his heart pounding in his throat.
“I – I’m sorry. For earlier.”
He could tell from the angles that his cousin was slumped back against the door, head bowed. Maybe with arms crossed over his chest. “It’s all right, Tosh,” he answered. “I know you’re tired.”
“It – it’s just…” Another slow, careful breath. “I shouldn’t talk to you like that. I never talk to you like that. And I don’t want to. So…so why did I? I didn’t want to say any of that – but I did.”
“Tosh – “ His hand jerked, wanting to throw aside the covers, but he held himself back. He wanted more than anything to leap up and run to his cousin at the door, but he worried that Toshi might leave if he did.
“I…I don’t know what’s wrong, Miaki.” Now, as the other’s voice shook, it became obvious that he was weeping, slowly, softly. “The feelings just – just rush over me, out of nowhere.”
“What sort of feelings?”
“Feelings of…of real rage. As though I – I hate you. And I don’t. You have to believe me – I don’t!”
Miaki saw his cousin’s hand rise, to cover his face. “Toshi.” He swallowed around the lump in his throat. “I know you don’t. I know that better than anyone. Don’t ever think I believe it for a second.”
“You just – you just have to remember that, if – if I go off on you again. Please don’t forget. Please forgive me. I’m so sorry.”
Enough was enough. Miaki flung back the covers, exclaiming, “Tosh, there’s nothing to for – “ But it was already too late. The door had opened, and his cousin had slipped out, leaving an almost tangible emptiness behind.
Miaki swung his legs off the bed and sat on the edge, staring at the empty, shadowed doorway, trying to decide if he should follow. He wanted more than anything to rush to Toshi’s room, throw his arms around him, and comfort him as he’d comforted Miaki so many times since his father’s murder.
But he realized, his heart sinking, that he didn’t know what kind of reception he’d get. For all he knew, Toshi’s anger would have returned already. Should he just ignore that, and go anyway? Or should he tiptoe around this problem, and let his cousin be alone while trying to come to grips with what was going on?
God knew, Toshi had come to him enough times, that first year after his father had been murdered. He didn’t think he’d ever have lived through that year, without that strong comfort.
Miaki got up and strode to the door. Of course he was going to his cousin, dammit! He couldn’t leave him alone. The guy had been crying, for gods’ sake.
He stepped down the hallway to the room next to his own. Taking a deep breath, he bent to let the scanner pass over his retina.
And nothing happened. He was still blocked out. He tried the manual codes, on the keypad, and again there was no response.
Miaki knocked and called softly, “Toshi. Can I come in? Please?” No answer. He tried again, but either his cousin couldn’t hear him, or was ignoring him.
So there was nothing he could do. Toshi was afraid and in pain, and he couldn’t help him.
Miaki turned and pressed his back to the door, sinking to the floor. He set his elbows on his knees and buried his head in his hands.
“Wouldn’t you want the dwelling higher?” Jason wondered. “If it was below the trees, wouldn’t it miss a lot of sunlight, and take a lot of energy to heat?”
“No, not really,” Akio shook his head. “Look,” he pointed, “the sun rises over there – to one side of the dwelling – and would travel overhead, so the solar panels on the roof would catch the energy. It wouldn’t be a problem, as long as the trees didn’t come really close. And meanwhile, the trees could retain moisture in the hill, and the area at the foot of the hill would be more hospitable.”
Kenji, standing with him, nodded agreement. “We’d have to pump the water up for the first little while, but eventually the natural rhythms would reduce the need to pump, and they might even take over eventually.”
“Right, then,” Jason said. “So we’ll go for a dwelling here, instead of anything larger. And first we’ll do the seismic work.”
Kenji added, “But we’d better make two plans. One for if there’s water under the surface somewhere, close enough to get at, and another for having to bring it in from somewhere else.”
“I’ll grab the maps of nearby areas that have already been surveyed,” Julie said, adding notes on her own holoscreen. “If we do have to bring it in, at least we can try to get it from somewhere close.”
“Okay, so you get going on the geological side, Kenji and Akio can work on the hillside and pick some choices of possible vegetation, and I’ll get designing some buildings,” Jason said. “Is that it for today, do you think?” When the others nodded, he added, “All right, then I think I’ll go offline. I have some preparation to do before my next class.” His avatar winked out of the Mars landscape.
Julie joined Kenji in looking up at the small hill. “This feels a lot like working with Miaki and the others, doesn’t it?” she chuckled.
“You’re right,” he agreed. “At least if a boulder rolls down this hill at some point, it won’t literally crush us. That’s different, anyway.”
Akio peered at them curiously. “So, what’s up with you guys and Miaki and the others these days? You all seem to be together most of the time. Are you doing another top secret project?”
Kenji hesitated, but Julie answered blithely, “What, saving the world once wasn’t enough for you, but you want us to try it again? Really,” she added, shaking her head with a smile, “some people are never satisfied.”
She’d like to have thrown him off the track, but unfortunately he’d seen Kenji’s expression. “Yeah, well, maybe you don’t want anyone to know. But there’s a rumour going around that you’re doing something again, like you did last year.”
“We know about the rumour,” Kenji muttered. “We’re having to avoid people following us all the time, even when we go to the gym or the dining hall, or anywhere. It’s getting old.”
“Well, you’re heroes, you know,” Akio informed him cheerfully. “You must enjoy that, at least.”
“Not really.”
“So you’re saying there’s nothing going on? You just hang out, all your free time, because you’re great buddies?”
“Well, we are great buddies, you know, Akio,” said Julie. “So it kind of makes sense that we’d hang out.”
“But you do it a lot. Like, all the time,” he reminded her. He eyed Kenji again, noticing the young man’s gloomy face, and suddenly blurted, “Is it your dad, Kenji? Is he doing something again?”
Kenji’s glance darted to his face in alarm. “He – he’s in prison. How could he be ‘doing something’?”
Akio shrugged. “Give someone computer access, and there’s a lot they can do. Maybe I’m wrong about this, but, well...if there is something going on, and you need help with anything...just ask me, okay?”
Julie and Kenji stared at him in surprise. This was the last thing they’d expected him to say when he’d started asking about their private projects.
Julie laughed a little. “What? You want to get famous too?”
The other grinned. “Oh, that part would be nice, I’m sure. Well, unless Kenji’s right and it finally gets old.” His smile faded. “But I thought about you guys a lot over the summer, the way you had to do all that work alone, because you didn’t know who you could trust. And how dangerous it was, and how Miaki and Toshi almost died. And that’s just not right, you know. So...well, I just wanted you to know that if anything else comes up – if you become a target or anything, because you wrecked all those people’s plans – and you need help with anything – well, you can trust me. If you need help, I’ll do anything. I just,” he shrugged awkwardly, “I just wanted you to know that.”
“Akio,” Kenji said, “that’s really nice. We really appreciate that.”
“Yeah, well,” Akio said with a rueful grimace, “one reason I did so much thinking the last few months was that I had believed a lot of worse rumours about you last year, Kenji. You know – “
“The ones that said my father had bought a place for me at school, and I didn’t belong here.”
“Yeah, those. And when I found out what was really going on, I knew how stupid I had been, and how – how mean. So...you know. I feel really bad about that. And I don’t want you to have to do anything like that again, without a lot of backup.”
“Akio, Kenji’s right,” Julie said. “We really do appreciate it. And you know what? If we find that we need that sort of help, we’ll tell you and see what you can do.”
“Good.”
Later, when they were walking together back toward the dormitory wings, Kenji asked, “So you don’t trust him? You didn’t tell him there really might be something going on.”
“I’m sure he’s perfectly trustworthy, but I didn’t want to risk it, just in case,” she answered.
“So we’re back to that,” Kenji sighed. “Not trusting anyone, even people who might be our friends.”
“I’m afraid so. But let’s get going, to meet with the others. The sooner we can finish all our investigations, the sooner we can relax with people again.”
******
The two of them sat in the gazebo waiting for the others. Or rather, Toshi sat sprawled on one of the benches, arms spread to either side along the top of it, while Miaki stood in the entry, gazing out across the garden. He’d tweaked the fountain again a couple of days ago, and now watched the bounce and dance of the water with a critical eye.
“I think I need to watch a couple more vids,” he murmured, half to himself. “It still isn’t looking quite right.”
“You could always just import something,” he heard Toshi say. When he glanced back over his shoulder with raised eyebrows, he saw his cousin grin back at him. “Yeah, yeah,” Toshi laughed. “I forgot who I was talking to. You’d never do such a thing unless you were really pressed for time.”
“Neither would you.”
“True enough.” Toshi looked around the gazebo. “You’ve done a perfect job on this place, though,” he remarked in appreciation.
“Well, I did have my own memories to work from,” Miaki smiled, turning back to concentrate on the fountain again. “Remember that gazebo we had in our yard before father and I moved to the city after mother died?”
“I do. It was a cool place.” Toshi paused, and then sighed. “You’re looking backwards again.”
“People do, you know. People don’t forget things from their past. Especially nice things.”
“But healthy people,” said Toshi, an edge creeping into his voice, “don’t dwell on them constantly. Or brood about them year after year. Like you do.”
Miaki tensed, still not turning. “I try not to,” he answered defensively. “I’ve got lots of future plans, and things I’m looking forward to. But sometimes...I just remember. The good and...the bad. I remember. I can’t help it.”
“Remember,” Toshi retorted. “Or maybe wallow is more like it.”
Miaki turned slowly, and saw the irritation on his cousin’s face yet again, an expression he was becoming unpleasantly familiar with lately. “Tosh...,” he began, reluctance dragging at him. “What...what’s wrong?”
“What do you mean?” Toshi eyed him with a distinct air of suspicion.
“I don’t know. You seem to be...upset with me so much these days.”
“Oh, don’t be an idiot,” his cousin retorted. “You’re imagining things.”
“I really don’t think I am – “
“Hi there!” came a voice from beside the fountain. “Are we late, or are you guys early?”
Julie and Kenji came up the walk, and just behind them, Jin and Chika appeared from behind the fountain.
Miaki put on his neutral face, abandoning his questions with admitted relief. Maybe tomorrow he’d ask Toshi again. Maybe his cousin would finally have had enough sleep – or something – and they could really talk. He was beginning to feel uneasy around him, and that had never happened before; they’d always been very close, and could talk about anything. Tomorrow, they’d talk.
“We’re early,” he responded to the newcomers. “I’ve been trying to decide how to make the fountain better.”
“Typical,” Julie grinned as he stepped aside for her and she climbed the steps.
“By the way, you guys,” Kenji said as he followed her in. “Akio thinks there’s something going on with us, and offered to help us out if we need it. He told us that just now, at the end of our last class.”
“Hm,” Miaki mused. “Nice gesture, but did you tell him we’d have to pass on it?”
“Well, I wasn’t going to tell him we didn’t trust him,” Julie answered, “so I told him we’d ask for his help if we ran into something where we thought we might need it.”
“Are you sure that was wise?” he frowned. “Don’t you think you almost as good as admitted to him that something’s going on?”
“Relax,” said Toshi. “I think people are catching on to that already. So it’s better to try to defuse things than deny them outright. Denying them just confirms to people that we’ve got something to hide. And makes them more determined to find out what it is.”
“Well...I suppose that’s right,” Miaki agreed slowly.
“Of course it’s right. What – you don’t think that interpretation has any validity just because you didn’t think of it yourself?”
Miaki stared at him, and silence fell. Toshi looked around at the group, and laughed slightly. “All right, that was a bit harsh. Never mind. Let’s hear how things are going with the rest of you.”
Jin observed the two of them carefully, as the others began to make quick reports. Miaki had fallen silent and seated himself on one of the gazebo benches, contemplating his hands in his lap, his face expressionless. Toshi, meanwhile, chatted and laughed with everyone else as though he hadn’t just said something that had stung his cousin into withdrawal.
Miaki’s pain and confusion almost radiated from him. At least, Jin could see it as clearly as though he’d shouted it; she wondered if anyone else had really noticed. They seemed to be behaving pretty normally, so she wasn’t sure. She hoped it was just that they were trying to play down the moment.
Toshi, on the other hand, although he might have appeared at first sight to be behaving as normally as the others, was a little too emphatic with his laughter, a little too feverish in his bright, witty comments. It was almost like him – but not really. It was almost – the thought occurred to her suddenly – as though she were watching a caricature of Toshi, and not the young man himself. She frowned, watching.
Julie and Kenji didn’t actually have much more to report than they did last time: there still didn’t seem to be any suspicious things coming out of the prison where Mr. Tanaka was being held, and the ISCE system seemed equally secure.
“What about the regular ins and outs, like email and messaging?” Chika asked, looking at Miaki. When he didn’t reply, still seeming preoccupied with his hands in his lap, she promoted again, “Miaki?”
“Hello, Cuz!” Toshi called. “Wake up. You’re wasting our time, daydreaming.”
Miaki glanced up, startled. “Oh. Sorry. I haven’t found anything either. So far, everything still seems clean.”
“And I,” Jin added, “still haven’t found anything suspicious among the staff.”
“So everything else from the rest of you is clear,” Chika nodded.
“Including all the simulations I’ve looked through,” Toshi supplied.
“Right. But I’m afraid I’ll have to blemish the record a little, myself,” said Chika. “I’m still picking apart that odd code you and Kenji found the other day, and it’s starting to worry me a little. I’m becoming convinced that it’s not as benign as we thought, not merely a bit of ‘awkward’ coding.”
Now Miaki glanced up, sharply, eyes fixed on her avatar’s face. “What’s wrong with it?” he demanded.
“I’m still not sure. But something has suggested itself, and I need to find out for sure. And that’s that this bit of code, deep down inside, seems to be directed at Toshi specifically.”
Miaki gasped. The others turned to stare at Toshi. He returned their gaze with raised eyebrows. “That,” he said, “is the silliest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Maybe it is,” said Chika, “but we can’t know for sure until I’ve analyzed it completely.”
“Are you trying to tell me that these simulations – some of them standard sims created before I even came to ISCE – were written way back then, specifically with me in mind? That’s crazy. Absolutely crazy.”
“Like I said,” she agreed, “it might be. But I just won’t know until I finish – “
“Did you put her up to this?” Toshi demanded of his cousin, jerking to his feet.
Miaki stared at him, mouth open. “What – what do you mean?”
“Is this supposed to be some way of making me nervous and keeping me close by? Keeping me on a leash – so I can’t be independent of you?”
“Toshi!” Julie cried angrily. “What a stupid thing to say!”
“Why?” he retorted. “I’ve been his babysitter for two years already. It would be no surprise that he doesn’t want to lose his security blanket. But I’m getting really sick of it. It wouldn’t surprise me if he stuck that code in there himself, to zap me with.”
“That’s not – I never – I couldn’t – “ Miaki was stunned almost to incoherence.
“Is there anything else?” Toshi demanded of the group in general. “If there isn’t, I’m done here.” And before anyone could even answer him, he logged himself out, and his avatar disappeared.
After a shocked silence, Chika said, “Miaki, don’t do anything right now, okay? Just let him cool off.”
He seemed to have huddled into himself, bent over on the bench, hands clenched tightly into fists on his knees. “I don’t – I – I just want to be alone,” he stammered.
“Are you sure?” Julie asked softly. “I’m sure he didn’t really mean any of that. Maybe we should talk about – “
“No!” he cried. “I – I – please, Julie, everyone. We can talk later, I promise, but right now – I just need to be alone. Please.”
“Okay, you guys,” Chika said. “Let’s give him some space. Let’s log out. But Miaki – we will talk later. Don’t even think you’re going to shut us out again.”
He nodded weakly, and she logged out, followed by Kenji and Julie. Jin hesitated for a moment, watching him, and then finally, reluctantly, logged herself out as well.
As she pulled off her equipment, she heard Kenji moan, “It’s my father, isn’t it? This is his fault, isn’t it? He’s done something awful!”
“We still don’t know that for sure,” Chika shook her head. “Don’t draw any dire conclusions until we know.”
“Oh, I already know,” Kenji maintained bitterly. “And you’d admit it too, if you were being honest.”
Chika sighed. “It does look that way,” she agreed slowly.
“Kenji,” Julie said suddenly. “Maybe Miaki won’t agree to talk about this – but you’re going to, whether you want it or not. Come with me.” She started toward the door, then glanced back at him over her shoulder. “Come on.”
He watched Miaki for a moment, sitting silent at his terminal, gloves, boots, and goggles still on. Then he sighed morosely, and followed Julie out of the room.
“I tell you,” Chika remarked, “if poor Akio could see moments like that, I think he’d be very depressed about his chances.” She favoured Jin with a wry smile, but it vanished almost immediately. She cocked her head toward the quiet, seated figure at the terminal. “Are you staying?”
Jin smiled. “Of course.”
She didn’t have to wait long after Chika was gone. In perhaps five minutes, she saw Miaki sigh and pull off the goggles, and then begin pulling at his gloves. He turned the chair and saw her, and didn’t seem surprised. The two of them had had this sort of encounter before.
She asked without preamble, “Are you going to be all right?”
“Does that even matter any more?” he answered morosely.
“When you talk like that – yes. You know it matters very much, to all of us. And you know we...care a lot about you, Miaki.” She could have put it in stronger terms than that, but she knew it wasn’t really the time to get embroiled in the larger implications of stronger words.
He hugged his arms across his chest, bowing his head. “Just let me get my head straight,” he whispered. “I promise we can talk later. Just...give me some time. All right?”
“Of course,” she nodded. “I just wanted to make sure you’d be okay. I know you’ll want to pull away and withdraw from us, but you can’t let yourself do that. We’ll figure everything out, but you need our help to do it. You have to remember that.”
“Yeah, sure.”
“I mean it,” Jin said firmly, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I want your promise, Miaki, that you’ll keep talking to us, and working with us to understand what’s going on. Promise me. I won’t leave until you do.”
She saw his lips turn up in a faint smile. “You’re the worst of the whole lot, you know,” he murmured. “You’re better at blackmailing me than any of them, and that’s saying a lot.”
“Why thank you,” she answered. “That’s one of the nicest things you’ve ever said to me.”
Miaki glanced up sharply, to see if she was serious, and at the sight of her smile, relaxed again. “If you’re not going to leave unless I promise you, well, I guess I don’t want you to have to move into this room permanently. So...okay. I promise I’ll keep talking to you.”
“Good. Then I’ll let you leave too.”
She turned as though to depart, but suddenly he clutched at her arm and pulled her close, throwing his arms tightly around her.
“Thank you, Jin,” he whispered. “You – all of you – you’re part of the reason I’m still alive. Don’t think I ever forget that.”
Jin pressed her cheek against his shoulder for a moment. “We do love you, you know. We’re not going to let you fall.” She pulled away. “Now. Time to go. Come on.”
She turned and walked toward the door. She heard him mutter, “Slave driver,” and then begin to follow. She smiled as she walked out into the hallway.
*******
He jerked awake, heart pounding, wondering what had awakened him. Although he couldn’t remember what, or if, he’d been dreaming just now, perhaps it was something in a dream.
Or perhaps not. He heard a movement, realized he’d heard it just before waking, and knew before he turned to look that someone had come into his room. And given that only one person had access to his room besides himself – he also knew who it was. Rolling over in the bed, he recognized the vague shape leaning against his door.
“Tosh…?” he yawned. “What is it?”
“Miaki,” came the faint whisper, and then a long, shuddering breath.
“What’s wrong?” In alarm, Miaki reached for the lamp switch.
“No! Please – no light.”
Miaki sat up. “Okay. No light. What’s the matter, Toshi?” he asked softly, his heart pounding in his throat.
“I – I’m sorry. For earlier.”
He could tell from the angles that his cousin was slumped back against the door, head bowed. Maybe with arms crossed over his chest. “It’s all right, Tosh,” he answered. “I know you’re tired.”
“It – it’s just…” Another slow, careful breath. “I shouldn’t talk to you like that. I never talk to you like that. And I don’t want to. So…so why did I? I didn’t want to say any of that – but I did.”
“Tosh – “ His hand jerked, wanting to throw aside the covers, but he held himself back. He wanted more than anything to leap up and run to his cousin at the door, but he worried that Toshi might leave if he did.
“I…I don’t know what’s wrong, Miaki.” Now, as the other’s voice shook, it became obvious that he was weeping, slowly, softly. “The feelings just – just rush over me, out of nowhere.”
“What sort of feelings?”
“Feelings of…of real rage. As though I – I hate you. And I don’t. You have to believe me – I don’t!”
Miaki saw his cousin’s hand rise, to cover his face. “Toshi.” He swallowed around the lump in his throat. “I know you don’t. I know that better than anyone. Don’t ever think I believe it for a second.”
“You just – you just have to remember that, if – if I go off on you again. Please don’t forget. Please forgive me. I’m so sorry.”
Enough was enough. Miaki flung back the covers, exclaiming, “Tosh, there’s nothing to for – “ But it was already too late. The door had opened, and his cousin had slipped out, leaving an almost tangible emptiness behind.
Miaki swung his legs off the bed and sat on the edge, staring at the empty, shadowed doorway, trying to decide if he should follow. He wanted more than anything to rush to Toshi’s room, throw his arms around him, and comfort him as he’d comforted Miaki so many times since his father’s murder.
But he realized, his heart sinking, that he didn’t know what kind of reception he’d get. For all he knew, Toshi’s anger would have returned already. Should he just ignore that, and go anyway? Or should he tiptoe around this problem, and let his cousin be alone while trying to come to grips with what was going on?
God knew, Toshi had come to him enough times, that first year after his father had been murdered. He didn’t think he’d ever have lived through that year, without that strong comfort.
Miaki got up and strode to the door. Of course he was going to his cousin, dammit! He couldn’t leave him alone. The guy had been crying, for gods’ sake.
He stepped down the hallway to the room next to his own. Taking a deep breath, he bent to let the scanner pass over his retina.
And nothing happened. He was still blocked out. He tried the manual codes, on the keypad, and again there was no response.
Miaki knocked and called softly, “Toshi. Can I come in? Please?” No answer. He tried again, but either his cousin couldn’t hear him, or was ignoring him.
So there was nothing he could do. Toshi was afraid and in pain, and he couldn’t help him.
Miaki turned and pressed his back to the door, sinking to the floor. He set his elbows on his knees and buried his head in his hands.
Chapter 6