by Samit Basu
Aman says nothing for a while, as he watches Norman in the cube. He seems to be sleeping peacefully now.
“So this is your plan,” he says finally. “Kill Jai, and then remove the supers, one by one.”
“No,” says Norio. “How could that be my plan? I only just found out about Rowena.”
“It’ll never work, you know,” says Aman. “There are just too many supers now. There’s no way you could get to all of them at once.”
“Yes, that’s the whole problem with supers, isn’t it? Unique gifts, unique tech, just for that one special person. You know, I haven’t been able to mass-produce a single one of Sundar’s inventions. I’ve even ruined a few things trying to reverse engineer them. And yes, I have the same problem with Rowena’s blood. I can’t synthesise its powers. But I was wondering – do you know anyone who could help me fix this?”
“I do, but you killed three of her,” says Aman. “I don’t see Tia being very eager to help you out.”
“I was actually thinking about you fixing it,” says Norio. “You could make Tia do it.”
“Get the only person I know who really loves her superpower to help you make all powers go away? Unlikely.”
“Not all powers. As you’ve pointed out several times, there are powers that help the world. I’m a reasonable man, Aman, and my management style is very flexible. The good powers can stay. But there are supervillains and others whose powers need to be taken away. For the greater good.”
“And you get to decide which. And you want Tia to deliver your verdicts for you. She’ll never do it.”
“But perhaps if the life of someone she loves were under threat…”
Aman shrugs. “Good luck,” he says. “I’d really like to watch you and Tia have that meeting.”
“I see. Well, if that’s your attitude, I suppose you won’t help me,” says Norio.
“No,” says Aman. “I’m not as flexible as you.”
“Very well. Azusa, did you have anything to ask Aman?”
Azusa does not.
Norio sighs, and stretches. “Well, then, I suppose it is time for me to let you go, as promised,” he says. “Thank you for all your help. Maybe one day we’ll meet again, on your island. Maybe we’ll be friends then. I’d like that.”
Aman looks at him, then at Azusa. He stays where he is.
“I can’t offer you a lift home, I’m afraid. Do you speak Japanese?” asks Norio. “Do you need money?”
“I’ll be fine,” says Aman. “Are you… actually letting me go?”
“Don’t get emotional now, Aman. It’s been good, but we’re done.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“You don’t know anything about me. One day you’ll learn. One day you’ll see, and you’ll thank me.”
“Maybe,” says Aman. He glances around the hall nervously, waiting for the punch line, or the punch, but both Norio and Azusa seem completely calm.
“Seriously, get out of here before I change my mind,” says Norio. “I’ve grown quite fond of you, and I’m already beginning to regret my decision. All the chats we could have. I am also excellent at word games.”
Aman decides not to push his luck. He walks towards the door, faster with each footstep.
Norio waits until Aman’s actually got the door open, and then clears his throat.
“One moment, please,” he says with a smile. “I almost forgot. Azusa?”
Azusa raises her rifle and shoots Aman.
Aman stares at the dart on his arm in disbelief. A strange, sluggish coldness flows up his arm.
“I’m afraid I can’t let you keep your power,” says Norio. “You’d be far too much trouble online.”
Aman tries to pull the dart out, but his hands don’t move. He wants to run, but his legs don’t listen. He crumples up in a ball on the floor, and feels waves of numbness sweep over him.
“Switch off the blocker now,” says Norio. “I need to check my email.”
Aman watches in quiet fascination as the hall blurs around him, the only sounds he can hear are the slow beat of his own heart and the incredibly loud clatter of Norio’s boots as he walks towards him. Norio’s got his phone out, and is absorbed in it. Aman senses nothing. The world throbs, fades, and he falls into darkness.
CHAPTER NINE
A giant bear swims through the waters of Tokyo Bay, its muzzle pointing towards the island of Odaiba.
There’s nothing warm or fuzzy about this bear, no animation artist in the world could make it cute. It doesn’t look as if it wants to dance or wear a T-shirt and look for honey; it could only be used as a mascot for an extremely kinky underground Olympics. Giant mammals have always been, aesthetically speaking, the Kaiju King’s weakest creations: he deals best in reptiles, insects and floating human body parts. This bear kaiju is clearly a work in progress rushed out to meet demand. The King hasn’t bothered much with the details: its fur is patchy, clumps of black and brown hair over a mountain of pink, veined, exposed leathery skin. Only its head is above the surface of the water, it looks like an extraordinarily ugly island.
Far above the bear, helicopters dot the sky, massive cameras streaming this new kaiju’s image across the planet. The spotlights haven’t come on yet, as the sun is still up. The giant bear is unfashionably early.
* * *
In Kabukicho, Oni’s client huffs and puffs above him. An energetic cartoon theme song plays in the room, but Oni can hear over it, in the room next door, an excited news presenter describing the giant bear.
“It’s too soon,” he mutters.
“But you told me to hurry!” moans his client, wiping her sweaty brow with a well-manicured palm.
Oni has an excellent view of his own perfect legs. He stares at his demon tattoo, hoping it won’t glow, hoping it will. The tattoo stares back at him. He pats his client’s head gently.
“Take your time,” he says.
* * *
In Shibuya, Baku is far too busy to look at the news. In any case, there’s a high-stakes football game on TV: Kashima Antlers are playing Jubilo Iwata.
* * *
In Akihabara, Raiju enters her cubicle and waves the pass-gesture at the camera above her.
“Raiju online,” she says.
She waits a while. The cubicle door stays open. She slides it shut manually, and calls out again, her voice louder. She sits on the floor, tapping the side of the cubicle with her fist.
“Come on, Amabie,” she mutters. “Where the hell are you?”
* * *
“Sorry to keep you waiting,” says Azusa. “It is an honour to meet you.”
“Thanks,” says Uzma. “We should have called first, but we’re in a hurry.”
“I know how busy you must be,” says Azusa. “Welcome to Hisatomi Tower.”
* * *
The giant bear rises out of Tokyo Bay. Its claws are long, thick and yellow, its eyes a startling green, its genitalia conspicuously absent: presumably the Kaiju King wishes to appeal to younger audiences.
It is greeted by missiles: four Tan-SAM Kai IIs sizzle as they hit it, and four fireballs blossom on its chest. It reels, roaring, and splashes its chest with water. Apart from four singed circles on its torso, and a slight increase in the intensity of its scowl, it appears unaffected.
The bear clambers out of the water and shakes itself vigorously. It stands on the same docks where the ARMOR mechas recently battled the giant lobster, but ARMOR is not here. Some Air Force jets are, though, and they strafe the bear’s body with fire, but it seems not to even notice them. It rears up on its hind legs, and with one wild sweep of its paw sends a huge pile of containers flying into the air. They burst open and pour out their contents as they arc out over the bay and splash into the water. The bear turns, sniffs the burning air, and shuffles around. It sees the glittering buildings of Odaiba before it, the new dome of the Museum of Emerging Technologies holds its attention for a while, but behind the museum, taller and shinier, stands the never-ending spik
e that is Hisatomi Tower. It goes to work.
* * *
In the lobby of Hisatomi Tower, the Unit is getting restless. Uzma looks around; Anima’s playing a game on a holo-screen, Wu stares blankly into space, and Jason and Wingman sign autographs for a group of giggling schoolgirls who have just emerged from a massive elevator after a tour of the tower. The lobby is full of guards, most of whom are engaged in nothing more threatening than occasional glances at her legs. The annoying fusillade of flashing cameras from the paparazzi huddled outside the building has fortunately stopped – the photographers all ran away a few minutes ago. This had nothing to do with the fact that Jai had been sent out to discourage them. Uzma can see from a screen, with a growing sense of mind-unravelling disbelief, that a three-hundred-foot-tall bear appears to be making its way towards Hisatomi Tower, smashing every building and street in its path. She turns, again, to the pretty young woman in a close-fitting business suit in front of her.
“So where is Mr Hisatomi?” she asks.
“I’m so sorry,” comes the reply. “But Mr Hisatomi’s appointment calendar is very full.”
Wingman and Ellis had both cautioned against the direct approach; they had pointed out five other ways to tackle this whole Hisatomi business. But Uzma has been feeling itchy and restless ever since Prague, and is in no mood to be stopped by lackeys.
“Where is Norio Hisatomi?” she Asks the young woman.
“In the basement of this building,” she replies immediately. Her eyes widen, and then narrow. “I see you just used your mind rape power on me,” she says.
“What did you just say?” thunders Uzma.
“I apologise. My English is not perfect. Mr Hisatomi will see you, of course, but there is one small problem.”
“What is that?”
The young woman points at the giant bear on the holo-screen above the reception desk.
“There seems to be a minor security alert,” she says. “Now if you could please excuse me, I must make arrangements for the children.”
Uzma finds she has nothing to say as the woman walks off to the reception and starts issuing orders to guards.
“Any of you want to go kill a bear?” she asks her team.
“I like bears,” says Anima, not looking up from her screen.
“Do you like killing things?” ask Uzma.
“Yes.”
“Well, then get on it, people. Faceless, stay with me.”
“I don’t think we should get involved,” says Wingman. “It might rake up some bad memories in this part of the world.”
“That was years ago,” says Uzma. “If you get it right, it’ll help us.”
“They have a giant robot for this sort of nonsense,” says Wingman. “I really think we should stick together, Uzma. We don’t know what we’re up against here with this Norio fellow.”
“They’re just humans.”
“But if they have that girl—”
“Go,” Says Uzma.
As the Unit races out of the lobby, the young woman returns to Uzma. She’s wearing AR glasses and headphones.
“You clearly have a lot to hide,” says Uzma. “What is your name?’
“Azusa. I work for a large company, and am in possession of a lot of confidential financial information,” she replies. “I am afraid this is necessary.”
“I understand,” says Uzma. “I’ve sent my team to take care of your monster. Do let Mr Hisatomi know I’m waiting.”
“He knows, but I’m afraid you will have to wait a while longer. This tower was destroyed the last time the Unit fought one of the kaiju, and Mr Hisatomi’s family was killed during that battle. Since then, we have a very strict security protocol to follow.”
“We have a jet that can get him wherever he needs to go. We’ll talk on the way.”
“I’m very sorry, but Mr Hisatomi has no heirs and so is honour bound to follow the protocol. He will meet you after the kaiju is dead.”
“That’s fine,” says Uzma. “Is there a room where my associate and I could wait?”
Azusa casts a look at Jai. “I am afraid I must insist that the gentleman remove his armour,” she says.
Uzma sighs, and begins the usual story. “The Faceless has sworn by his clan’s rules that—”
“We are prepared to sign a confidentiality agreement regarding Mr Mathur’s identity,” says Azusa. “But he may not go past the lobby with his helmet on. Please do us this favour, Ms Abidi. We are making every attempt to cooperate with you.”
She meets Uzma’s baffled gaze with a completely bland expression, and smiles with what appears to be genuine gratitude as Uzma nods, and Jai removes his helmet.
“Welcome, once again, to Hisatomi Tower,” says Azusa.
“Please follow me.”
* * *
What the Kaiju King’s new bear lacks in beauty, it makes up for with agility. The kaiju usually specialise in standing in one place, wiggling their arms around and screaming – though that is usually because they spend all their time on land being pounded into bits by ARMOR. The bear moves from building to building, smashing each in innovative ways: some with huge swipes of its paws, others with police vans picked up from the street. There’s a hail of gunfire hammering into it from all sides; the bear does not let this get in the way of its rampage. It smashes through a glass tower belonging to an insurance conglomerate, then picks up a police car, shakes it until all the screaming policemen inside it fall out, and tosses it into the sky, where it hits a helicopter. Both vehicles explode in a spectacular mid-air fireball.
A speck of green light catches its attention – a little ball of green that darts from side to side. The bear bats at it with its paws, but the light dances out of its reach. Roaring in frustration and delight, the bear leaps at it, and chases it down a street, back the way it came. But after a minute or so, something stops it. It turns, losing interest in the light, and trundles back towards the Museum of Emerging Technologies.
Anima does not enjoy being ignored, and the bear kaiju discovers this the worst possible way. She charges herself up, bending the city around her as waves of green energy gather into her body. Then she shouts a challenge, and the sky lights up. From above the bay, the newsfeed cameras capture, for an instant, what looks like a giant lightsaber, a solid line of green energy as Anima flies forward and up, then charges full-tilt into the kaiju. She passes, burning, shining, right through it, and straight out of its chest where its heart should be. She bursts out like a comet, a black blob of kaiju slime that gives birth mid-flight to a shining green ball trailing an arcing stream of blood. Anima flies on until she is spent, a floating waif far above the shattered Odaiba skyline, and then her power runs out, and she is suddenly alone, floating in the sky, surrounded by fading green sparks.
The kaiju stands perfectly still, a human-sized hole burnt out of its torso. It staggers, too shocked to roar, totters, sending police cars screeching backwards.
Anima’s body folds up, twists. She falls like a stone. Jason runs towards her on a stairway in mid-air he builds as he runs, of chunks of steel, plaster and furniture ripped out of broken towers.
The kaiju falls. It smashes into yet another tower, sticks its head into a gigantic advertisement hoarding for beer, and lands with a whump that shatters every window on the street, fills the air with the caterwauling of car alarms, and sends a mushroom cloud of dust and debris into the sky.
Jason sends an endless sheet of metal and glass twisting through the air, and breaks Anima’s fall. She slides down the twisting slope, limbs flailing and he builds the slide below her, faster and faster, until he twists the metal in mid-air, and Anima is safe, sliding in circles in the bowl of a nineteen-foot-long spoon Jason builds in a second out of the side of a tower. Jason’s shoulders sag, and he stumbles, but before he can fall to his death Wingman plucks him up, soars into the air, and tosses Jason into an office.
The kaiju roars. It flings its forelimbs up, and rises again, slowly, its body creaking and shudde
ring like a tree in a gale. In a matter of minutes it stands again, holding on to a tower, its eyes burning as bright as before.
Wingman flies in sending bursts of plasma fire with deadly accuracy into the beast’s eyes. The kaiju swats at him, paws much larger than Wingman’s body flailing about with surprising speed, trying to squash him like a mosquito. His seventh strike connects; Wingman is caught in mid-flight. He scrambles, and in a desperate burst of speed flies out of the beast’s paw a second before it smashes it through a wall. Wingman is caught in a hailstorm of steel and concrete. Dizzy, bleeding, completely exhausted, he hovers, waiting for the killing blow. But it does not come.
Instead, Wu emerges from above, eyes glowing a blinding, pupil-less white, bringing lightning with her. A direct hit on the kaiju’s skull hurls it back, making it forget Wingman altogether. Above the beast, clouds gather and dance. Caught in the gathering storm, the newsfeed helicopters make desperate attempts to escape, but several are caught and tossed about in the howling wind.
Wingman calls out to Wu, but Wu is well past hearing him now. Fortunately for the intrepid journalists above them, the spirit riding Wu chooses to let them live. It leaves Wu, and the light in her eyes dies out. Wingman flies up and catches her – just in time. The kaiju makes a great leap towards them, and Wingman evades its wild strike with one second to spare.
The bear lands heavily on its hind limbs, and calms itself. It calls upon whatever unearthly force powers it, and blood stops pouring out of the hole Anima burnt in its chest. It thumps first one foot, then the other, like the universe’s largest sumo wrestler, then looks at its feet, and takes a deep, slow breath.
Then the giant bear looks up sharply, and opens its maw. A torrent of fire streams out of its mouth, up into the sky. The few helicopters still left above it burn instantly. As they fall flaming around the monster, it looks down again and strikes the nearest towers, roaring a challenge that echoes through every corner of Tokyo.
Wu answers. She has a new spirit in her now. She floats towards the kaiju, arms outstretched, talons of light extending from her fingers. A cold wind blows down the street, picking up clouds of debris and tossing them about, blasting the bear with torrent upon torrent of supercooled dust. Jason darts behind her, riding the storm surfer-style on an ad hoarding he’s shaped into a board. Wu flexes her spirit talons, and the dust storm turns into a tornado that spins into being in front of the kaiju. Jason sends a range of objects spiralling into the mix: cars, furniture from shattered towers, glass, girders, potted plants.
