Natsuki started and shot to her feet. “What do you think you are doing?” She glared at Riko, then leaned down, snatching the toy away. “Go and sit over there,” she said, pointing to the sofa.
Riko trembled then took in a deep breath before letting out a loud, long wail. Natsuki frowned and picked Riko up beneath her armpits and placed her on her hip. She cuddled and bounced her.
“Shh, shh. It's okay, Riko. You can't be poking Mummy with toys.”
“I want to say sorry, Mummy,” Riko said through sobs. “I want to say sorry, I said.”
Natsuki placed Riko down on the floor and forced a smile. “Okay. Don't worry. You go and play.”
Riko threw herself towards her mother and wrapped her arms around her legs. “I'm sorry, Mummy.”
“It's fine, honestly. Go and play on the sofa. Why don't you find some of your animals? Maybe they are sick?”
Riko nodded and ran to the sofa. She scrambled up and sat with her legs hanging over the sofa's edge with an expression of pride. “I'm sitting like a Mummy,” she said.
“Just be careful,” Natsuki said.
Sitting back down, Natsuki stared again and picked at her thumbs. A burning sensation ripped at her eyes. She thought about her wedding day, about her mother's funeral, about Riko's birth. She rotated the gold ring on her finger, thinking about how proud she was when her and Hayao graduated together; when he won his first election; when he played with their daughter.
She reached for a muslin to wipe the blood from her thumbs.
She looked around to see Riko climbing Hayao's shrine, reaching for his image.
“Get down from there,” Natsuki snapped. She ran over to Riko and dragged her away with a sharp yank.
“Fuck,” Natsuki cried, her voice strained. She covered her mouth, shocked, appalled.
Riko wailed.
“I'm so sorry,” Natsuki said, taking Riko in her arms, tears welled in her eyes. “I'm so sorry.”
Docking Bay, V5 Orbiter, Venus
“This is completely abysmal,” said Meer, waiting in line for the shuttle to Lunar. “Why are they taking so long?”
The dock was crowded with thousands of V5 residents all seeking departure from the orbiter. “Look at them all,” she snorted, “crowding around here like cockroaches.”
“I do love your bag,” said Maggerty.
“Oh this old thing,” Meer snorted. “It was very expensive when I bought it, but sometimes you just have to buy nice things.”
“You know this is where those awful traders found Yao Huizhong?” Maggerty asked.
Meer wrinkled her nose. “What, here?”
“Well, somewhere in this dock.”
Meer scoffed as she regarded the bare concrete beneath her feet then gave a tut. “Yes, a place like this - it would be.”
She stood on her tiptoed, craning her neck to look over to the end of the line. “I'm sorry dear, but this is completely and utterly ridiculous.” Meer left the line and marched to the front with her bag.
“I demand to buy a ticket to Lunar,” she said, glowering at a customs agent.
A guard to the officer's right looked up and considered her for a moment. “You and everyone else in this queue, Madam,” she said. “Please take your place back in line.”
Meer lifted her chin and looked down her nose at the guard. “I can pay,” she said.
The guard sighed. “You can pay? So can everyone else in this queue. Please take your place back in the line or I will have to call one of my colleagues to escort you away.”
“How dare you.” Meer opened her eyes wide. “Do you have any idea who I am?”
“No,” the guard shrugged. “But I'm sure you're going to tell me.”
Meer sniffed, eyeing the guard for several seconds. “Well, you wouldn't.”
She turned to a short man who had just purchased a ticket. “Good Sir, how much was your ticket?”
The man blinked and looked down at his ticket with a confused expression.
“Well?” Meer snapped, impatient.
“Erm—” he hesitated, “Fourteen thousand Sols. If you'll excuse me.” The man went as if to walk away, but Meer blocked him with a raised hand.
Fourteen thousand? That's ridiculous.” Meer shook her head. “I will give you thirty,” she said.
“Thirty thousand?” The man looked down at his ticket and then back to Meer. “Deal.”
The pair exchanged Sols and the ticket and Meer called out to Maggerty. “Maggerty dear. I'm okay now, I have a ticket.”
Meer strode to the boarding platform as the ticket booths closed and guards swarmed around the barriers behind her.
Kurowsawa household, Insularum 3, Lunar
Natsuki gave a languid smile as she opened her door to Akira. Although she had read Akira's articles for several years, Akira's appearance surprised Natsuki. She imagined someone younger, slimmer and more confident. Looking down, she noticed Akira's stubby hands peeking out from her ill-fitting grey shirt.
“Madam Kurosawa,” said Akira. “I'm so sorry for your loss. I cannot imagine—”
“Natsuki, please. Come in.” Natsuki led Akira to her reception room. “Take a seat. Can I offer you anything?”
“No thank you,” said Akira.
“Something to eat, perhaps? Tea?”
“A tea would be lovely, actually.”
Stepping into her kitchen, Natsuki prepared the tea. “You'll have to excuse the mess,” she said.
Natsuki heard Akira rise and walk over to Hayao's shrine.
“He was a handsome man,” Akira called into the kitchen.
“Yes,” Natsuki sighed, bringing through a tray with a teapot and pair of antique cups. She placed them down on the floor. The pair kneeled.
“People tell me what a good man he was, what a handsome man he was, what a good father he was,” she sighed. “Was.”
“I'm sorry,” said Akira. “I didn't mean—”
“It is I who should apologise. I'm just so—” Natsuki paused and glanced over to Hayao's shrine, “—exhausted.”
Closing her eyes for a moment, Natsuki took a sharp breath through her nose. Nobody told her how tiring it was to bring up a child while grieving; how basic things like washing and feeding herself properly went by the wayside. Riko was happy enough, but the neglect of herself was beginning to show.
Akira reached for Natsuki's hand. “We really don't have to do this today—”
“We must. If we don't do it now, I never will,” she said, snapping her hand away. “Do you know what the worst part about it all is? It's the fact that my husband's reputation has been destroyed. How dare Takeshi accuse Hayao of being a part of the Purdah? Do you know how completely absurd that is?”
“I know,” said Akira. “I've followed Kurosaw— Hayao's career since he stood to be a local Representative. I'm quite sure Ozu made those accusations to create a distraction.”
Natsuki nodded. “When would he have even had the time to do anything with the Purdah? He dedicated his waking hours to his work and his family.”
“Nobody takes Ozu's accusations seriously.” Akira reached over to the teapot and poured the teas.
“But the seeds have been sown. Even if he later retracts what he said, the damage is done. I've cried myself to sleep every single night since Hayao was arrested - not for him, not for me, but for Riko.”
“Riko?” asked Akira.
“Our daughter.” She gestured to an image of Riko next to Hayao's shrine. “She's just turned three. She's with my father today. Can you imagine what her life is going to be like? She's going to grow up as the daughter of a disgraced Vice Secretary - the daughter of a traitor. This shame will weigh on her.”
Akira sipped her tea. “These are lovely cups.”
“They were Hayao's grandmother's. They were a wedding gift.” The pair sat in silence for several moments. “Do you like the blend?”
“Yes, it's very subtle.”
“It's Martian. Hayao always insisted on go
od tea. I'm not sure I'll bother. Importing tea always seemed extravagant to me.”
Akira shuffled uncomfortably. “It must have been difficult for you not to have performed the funeral rituals,” she ventured.
“That was probably the hardest thing,” Natsuki sighed. “Finding out that Takeshi had taken that from me was—” She shook her head. “The idea of him washing him in those final hours makes me feel sick.”
Akira scowled. “The fact Ozu had guards hold him down while he did it must have been hard for you to take.”
Natsuki blinked. “I'm sorry? He did what?”
Akira froze. “I—” Scratching her nose, she frowned. “—I thought you would have known.”
“He had guards hold Hayao down?” Natsuki's jaw tightened. “Are you sure? How can you know this?” Natsuki snapped her hand away as Akira reached over to comfort her. “Tell me.”
Akira lowered her gaze. “I'm sorry.”
“Tell me,” Natsuki said, her tone insistent.
“One of the guards talks to me. He was supportive of Kurosa— Hayao, I mean. He came to me after Ozu had performed the cleansing ritual. He said it disturbed him. He told me that Ozu had three guards strip Hayao naked and hold him down. He said Hayao struggled against it throughout.”
Natsuki sipped her tea and breathed through her nose, trembling as she blinked away a tear. “You know Takeshi came here after Hayao's memorial?”
“I did not know that,” Akira said, her mouth hidden behind the teacup.
“He came here and told me that there were no hard feelings. Can you believe that? The audacity.” Natsuki dabbed her eyes with a muslin. “He brought his own image for Hayao's shrine. One of him and Hayao grinning like—” her voice trailed off.
Natsuki nodded as Akira gestured for more tea. “I could have killed him,” Natsuki said. “I could have strangled him in my own home. Imagine what would happen to Riko if both of her parents had been—” she sighed. “I didn't do anything, but it was only because I had friends and family around me to hold me back. If I'd known about the cleansing - that he held Hayao down - I would have reached for a knife. I swear it, I would have killed him and no one could have stopped me.”
“Do you think Ozu was working something else? Do you think Hayao's death was, I don't know, convenient for him in some way?”
“I don't know. I went to see Hayao after he was arrested. He mentioned that Takeshi had come to see him as an obstacle. I can't remember his exact wording, but there was definitely something. Looking back, it seems like Hayao suspected as much.”
“Take your time.”
Natsuki frowned and took a long sip of tea. “I've already spent enough time thinking this over and over,” she snapped. “Do you not think I've been trying to relive our conversations over and over in my head? Do you not think I've been trying to piece together some meaning out of all of this?” Natsuki slammed her cup to the floor, ignoring it as it shattered, its handle still gripped by her shaking fingers. “Look, I appreciate what you're trying to do, I really do. Hayao had a lot of time for you, and that's the only reason I'm even speaking with you today. But you're a reporter, you're looking for the political angle, the conspiracy, the deeper story.” Natsuki gasped for breath. “The real story is very simple,” she whispered. “Our Secretary is unhinged - the most powerful man in the Union is a murderer.”
Efans Household, Insularum 5, Lunar
Natsuki held Riko's hand, smiling down as Riko jumped excitedly.
“Please come in,” Wynn said. “Can I offer you some tea?”
“Please,” Natsuki said, entering Wynn's reception room. She considered the room for several seconds and thought its simple furnishings were at odds with Wynn's wealth. The sofa was beige and carpets a dull brown, worn, but clean.
“And what about for you? Would you like a drink?” Wynn said, leaning down to RIko with a broad smile. “Is milk okay?” he asked, turning to Natsuki.
“Can I have cold milk, please?” asked Riko as Natsuki lifted her up onto the sofa and took a seat next to her.
“Of course you can,” he said.
Natsuki pushed the creases out of her white tunic while Wynn poured hot water into a metal teapot. “How are you doing?” he asked.
“I'm okay. It's hard, you know?” Natsuki sighed, looking down at her chewed fingernails, resisting the urge to pick at a thick scab on the inside of her left thumb.
“I do know,” he said with a warm smile. “It does get easier.”
“It will never get easier,”
“That's not true. When I lost Carys, I couldn't do anything - I couldn't cook, I couldn't clean, I couldn't wash myself - I was completely at a loss. But things got better. Things will get better.”
“What are you doing Mummy?” asked Riko as she kicked her feet, letting them bounce over the edge of the sofa.
“I'm talking to Mister Efans, Riko.” Natsuki bit her lip. “If you don't mind me asking Wynn, how did Carys die?”
“It was cancer.” Wynn swallowed. “She had the treatment for a while, but we couldn't afford the meds after a while. Then it was very quick.” He cleared his throat then poured the teas.
“My husband was executed,” Natsuki said. “My husband was killed as a part of a political game. My husband had his name dragged through the dirt and his reputation destroyed.” Natsuki gritted her teeth. “I'm sorry Wynn—” She took a cup.
Wynn handed Riko a small glass of milk. Riko smiled. “Thank you.”
“Well, I hope you enjoy it,” Wynn said.
“When I grow up, I want to drink hot tea like Mummy and Daddy and you and Grandma and Grandpa,” Riko said.
“Honestly Natsuki, it's fine,” Wynn said.
“It's not fine, I'm—” Natsuki closed her eyes and breathed.
“You're grieving,” he said. “And you're doing it lot better than did, especially under the circumstances. I cannot even imagine what you're going through. Grief's hard enough as it is without everything else you've had to endure. Honestly Natsuki, you're a much braver person than I could ever be.”
Natsuki sipped her tea. “Thank you,” she said. “This is a nice tea.”
Riko burped as she swallowed the final drops of milk. “Finished,” she said tipping the empty glass upside-down. “I drank it all up with my mouth.”
“Careful Riko, you'll get drips everywhere,” Natsuki said.
Wynn walked over to a shelf and picked up a wooden ornament. “Do you know what this is?”
Riko slipped from the sofa and ran over to Wynn.
“A piggy!” Riko shouted, taking the ornament in her hands.
“A piggy, that's right. And do you know what piggy's say?”
Riko frowned and looked over at her mother. “I don't know,” she mumbled.
“They say 'oink, oink!'”
Riko giggled. “Oink, oink, oink. Piggy, pig, pig.” She held the wooden pig up to Natsuki's face. “Look Mummy: a piggy!”
Natsuki moved her head back to see. “That's lovely Riko. A bit too close to Mummy's face there. Why don't you play with it on the floor?”
Natsuki watched in silence as Riko flopped onto the floor, then crawled with the pig in her hand. She turned as Wynn took a single seat then picked up his tea. “I saw you spoke to Akira Yamamoto,” he said.
She looked down and frowned. “I did,” she said with a guarded tone.
“Was that true? About the cleansing, I mean.”
Natsuki gave a slow nod.
“That's awful,” he whispered.
“If they weren't going to let me cleanse him, they shouldn't have cleansed him at all. What Takeshi did—” Natsuki shuddered, “—it makes me feel sick.”
“I just don't understand what Ozu was thinking. What's the gain?”
Natsuki shrugged. “To get to me, I presume. I'm not convinced Takeshi had nothing to do with it getting out to the media. You were there at Hayao's memorial. You saw what he was like.”
She looked down to Riko who was tap
ping her knee. “Mummy,” she said. “Where's Daddy?”
Natsuki clenched her jaw. “Daddy—” she forced a smile. “Daddy had to go away.”
“Can we see him?” Riko asked, still tapping Natsuki's knee.
“Where did you put piggy?” Natsuki looked past her daughter to search for the ornament.
“I don't want piggy, I want Daddy now I said.” Riko pouted and threw herself into her mother's lap.
Natsuki blinked as she tried to hold back tears. “I'm really struggling, Wynn,” she said finally, her eyes pleading.
Fune Cruiser, Venus region
“I'm sorry, dear, I think there's been a terrible mistake. There's absolutely no way I'll be sharing a compartment,” Meer said pushing a pair of leather bags out into the dim-lit corridor.
“I'm not too happy about sharing either, but this is the situation we're in, so we have to make the best of it.” The young woman picked up her bags and brought them back into the room. She was tall, with thick silver hair.
Meer frowned. “This just won't do.” She glared at the back of the woman's head as she pushed her bags back onto the bottom bunk. The room was the length of the bunks with a gap of a metre between their edge and the wall.
Barging past the woman, Meer stepped out onto the corridor lined with a thin blue light at the join between the wall and ceiling. She sniffed at the air, thick with the odour of sweat, fuel and bad food.
She shuffled forward, taking care not to put too much pressure into her steps against the reduced gravity in case she bumped her head on the ceiling again.
“Where is the captain?” Meer demanded as she stepped in front of a Fune engineer. He had dark blue coveralls and cropped black curls.
“That part of the vessel is not open to the public,” he said.
“Public?” Meer spat. “Do I look like the public to you? Take me to your captain. I insist.”
The engineer's brow creased. Meer blocked his passage again as he tried to walk around her.
“Don't be so wretched. I'm sure your captain will be glad of my company,” said Meer as she puffed out her chest.
The Slip: The Complete First Season Page 13
