Mecha Samurai Empire (A United States of Japan Novel)

by Peter Tieryas

  At night, I knock on Kujira’s room. “What’s up, man?”

  “How’d you meet the Tokko agent?” I ask him.

  “That’s one of those things I’d tell you, but I think she’d kill you if I did,” he answers.

  I stare at him to see if he’s serious, but I can’t tell. “Forget I asked.”

  “Why do you care?”

  “I’m worried about the security clearance.”

  “Oh, that,” he says. He brushes his hair aside, and I see his scar again.

  “You’re not worried?” I ask.

  “You forget? I lived off the grid for the last seventeen years. Nothing for them to check even if they wanted.”

  “What about your portical files?”

  “I use an encrypted connection to the kikkai that erases itself as soon as the session ends.”

  “You need to show me how to use that.”

  “Use that now, and it sets off alarms,” he answers.

  “Then how do you use them?”

  “Because I have Akiko’s permission, and there’s no history for them to compare me against.”

  “What about your family history?”

  “My grandparents were from Osaka, so I guess I have some relatives there. But I haven’t ever met them.” He snorts at me. “I wouldn’t worry too much if I were you.”

  “Why not?”

  “If there was something on you, they would have gotten you already,” Kujira replies. “I’ve seen her kill a person before, man. Secret police don’t kid around. But it’s not you they’re after, so stop stressing.” He looks back down at his portical. “I got some real issues to take care of. Because of that damn Kazu, I can’t get a sausage anywhere.”

  “You don’t like the new diet?”

  “It’s terrible, man. Everything tastes like processed vegetables. Even the fish. I can’t sleep ’cause I’m starvin’ at night. Don’t tell me you like it?”

  “I’ve noticed I have more energy.”

  “I’m not talking to you anymore,” he says, and shuts the door.

  * * *

  • • •

  After classes end, I feel grouchy because the cold weather is freezing my ears and giving me a headache. Plus I have several hours of homework that I don’t want to do.

  I enter my dorm room, and it’s even colder inside than it was outside. I turn on the heater, which does nothing. The knock on my door irritates me as I wonder out loud, “Who is it?”

  “Open the door, Makoto Fujimoto,” a strong voice asserts.

  I check the peephole, and it’s Agent Akiko Tsukino.

  Is she here to arrest me?

  I involuntarily look toward my window. There’s no escape. I calm myself and open the door. She holds up my portical.

  “You’re clear,” she says.

  I feel immense relief flow through me. “Any issues?” I ask, and regret it because I’m not sure I want to know.

  “Only the ones I’ve already pointed out to you. Why were you so worried?”

  “How’d you know I was worried?”

  “Kujira asked me to look into the situation. He said you were losing your mind over it.”

  “Really?” I ask, surprised he would actually do something for me and that the Tokko agent would listen.

  “Yes. Kujira tells me your parents were acquaintances,” she states.

  “It’s true,” I reply. She doesn’t look at all surprised. “Did you know that already?” I ask.

  She doesn’t answer my question. Instead, she says, “You and Kujira will be taking on an important assignment.”

  “I don’t know the specifics.”

  “You will learn them.”

  “Did you—did you know my mother?” I want to know.

  “No. But the situation troubles you,” she states with a certainty that makes me believe she already knows what I think.

  “It bothers me a lot. My mom was sent to her death even though they knew it was a trap.”

  “In any profession, you will have superiors making bad decisions,” Agent Tsukino says without emotion. “Even the best generals make mistakes. The reason we’re officers is to learn, improve, and make a difference for those who rely on us. You can quit if it bothers you too much. But that means someone less competent will take your place.”

  “You’ve received bad orders before?”

  She ponders her answer, and I’m surprised to see conflicted pain in her squint. “In any profession, you will have superiors making bad decisions,” she repeats. “If you’re going to quit, do so immediately as this task is too vital to be hindered by your ambivalence.”

  “Do you just ignore the problems?” I ask her.

  “I continue my mission because bad orders don’t cloud that I’m fighting to protect the United States of Japan from everyone who wants us to be as miserable and deplorable as they are.”

  As she’s about to leave, I tell her, “Thank you.”

  She doesn’t acknowledge my gratitude, but it’s okay. I feel like the foot has been removed from my chest.

  * * *

  • • •

  Sunday morning slips in. I eat eggs and miso soup along with a protein bar. My ankles and wrists feel constricted from all our sword practice, so I stretch them out. My favorite ankle stretch is to stand on one leg, close my eyes, raise my arms out to the side, and hold the pose for thirty seconds, repeating that five times on alternate feet. It’s harder than it sounds as my body has a hard time keeping balance without visual reassurance. The stress of standing stretches the ankle muscles.

  After receiving orders to report for our new duties, the “Five Tigers” take the subway to San Francisco.

  Nori and Chieko are talking about a new type of defensive sword style they’ve discovered. Kazu sees some officers he recognizes and greets them. Kujira is sitting with his arms crossed, and mutters, “How is a person supposed to live without sausages and orange juice in the morning?”

  “Orange juice has concentrated sugar, which is unhealthy for you,” Kazu interjects before getting back to his conversation.

  “My mom survived on orange juice and sausages for three days because she couldn’t get back to base, and she still kicked GW ass.”

  “Don’t get me started on the food,” Chieko groans.

  “He thinks this new menu gives him more energy,” Kujira says to her about me.

  Chieko looks to me for an explanation.

  “I like the new diet,” I say. “I feel more energized in the mornings.”

  Chieko shakes her head. “Food is a reward, not just an energy source.”

  “Take it up with sempai,” I protest. “What about you?” I ask Nori.

  “I’ve been doing the diet for the past year, and it’s made me a lot healthier.”

  “See? It’s not just me,” I say.

  “Sellout,” Chieko mutters to me.

  “I heard that!”

  “I wanted you to hear it,” she says.

  The Market Street stop is our exit.

  * * *

  • • •

  Our destination is a group of old warehouses next to the pier. A young woman is waiting for us. She’s wearing a khaki coat and pants, has hair down to her shoulder, and is preoccupied with her portical.

  “I’m Dr. Shimitsu’s assistant. Please follow me,” she says, without looking up. I’m not sure who Dr. Shimitsu is, but I assume it’s the name of the person in charge.

  We are led inside one of the nondescript buildings. There are several bulk shipping containers inside. The red one opens up to a secret staircase we take down two floors. There’s an elevator at the bottom. The five of us get onto an elevator that’s big enough to fit two cars. I can’t wait to see what’s down here. Dr. Shimitsu’s assistant continues to read as the doors close. We b
egin our descent.

  “How far does this go down?” I ask.

  She doesn’t answer.

  Kazu says, “Just short of the center of the earth.”

  “Seriously?”

  Kazu chuckles. “Close enough.”

  When we come out from the elevator, there are three more gates we need to go through. They check our porticals, do a finger ID, run a retinal scan, and confirm our auditory signatures. After we’re cleared, we emerge into a big hub that could pass for a train station with the high density of people present. Some are soldiers, but many more are civilians heading to their next destination. The ceiling is a massive portical display colored azure with clouds streaming by. The floors are all wooden, and there’s a brick fireplace where people are conversing and drinking tea. There are a variety of stores, restaurants, and kiosks that make the area resemble a shopping center more than a top secret underground base. There’s even a gym, and I see a gigantic swimming pool and indoor tennis court through the glass walls. Trees are everywhere, genetically modified to be able to subsist without the sun.

  We traverse into the next area, take an escalator down multiple floors. I notice that many of the people are pale and wonder how long it’s been since they’ve been outside. I appreciate that there’s a fully functional climate control, so it’s very toasty.

  “Welcome to Mechtown,” Kazu says. “A fitting name considering the primary focus down here.”

  “What’s that?” I ask.

  “What do you think?” Kazu asks back as he points at the towering mechas in the distance.

  “I can’t believe this is all underneath the bay,” Chieko states.

  “This is a subterranean reflection of the city,” Nori replies. “I’ve visited here every week for the past year, and I think I’ve seen only a small percent of the total space.”

  “We don’t have clearance for most of the areas either,” Kazu says. “There’s some amazing stuff going on down here. Don’t gape too much.”

  There are eighteen gates in the northern hall, and we have to use our portical clearance to get through 013.

  “Why isn’t mecha spelled with a k?” Kujira asks.

  “Why would it be?” Chieko asks.

  “With the ‘c-h’ spelling, it should be pronounced ‘metcha’, not ‘mekka’ like we do.”

  “That’s stupid. The ‘h’ goes silent. You don’t pronounce mechanical met-cha-nical. You pronounce it me-kan-ical.”

  “The spelling and pronunciation are weird,” Kujira says.

  “Be prepared for weird overdose,” Kazu tells us.

  We enter a hangar-bay area filled with mecha types I’ve never seen before. The first set looks like a cross of an animal and mecha, reminding me of the chimeras from the NARA, only more sophisticated. I look at the portical displays on the walls and am surprised to see human pilots on one side, animals on the other. Neural interfaces are hooked to dogs, monkeys, ostriches, and cats.

  “These are the animal hybrids,” Nori explains. “They’ve been testing to see how a human brain synced with an animal one drives our new mechas as part of Project Lightpin.”

  “Does it work?”

  “It’s in progress. Turns out animals are way more complex than we’d thought, but they’re also simpler in other ways, so fine-tuning the neural link is taking longer than they’d anticipated,” Nori says. She looks at Kazu, and they both look like they’re going to laugh about an inside joke they don’t bother to share with us.

  As we take a multipassenger cart through the bay, Nori points out a mecha shaped like a hefty sumo wrestler and explains, “That’s the prototype for the Sumo class. But the physical rigors of creating a mecha that could continuously fight like that was less optimal than someone who used a gun and melee weapon, so they scrapped it.”

  “This is an experimental playground for mechas?” Kujira asks.

  Nori nods. “Pretty much if you can imagine it, they try it out here.”

  Past the beasts, there are mechas classified according to their specialties.

  “Those eight areas represent different divisions and areas of development,” Kazu says. “That’s Heat, Flash, Metal, Bubble, Quick, Crash, and I forget the last two.”

  “Wood and Air,” Nori says. “Air Division is developing a tornado cannon that ended up destroying the facility they were housed in, so they moved here three months ago.”

  Kazu grins. “The Flash Division is trying to find ways to adjust time perception through steroidal enhancers that make pilots respond faster.”

  “Does it work?” Chieko asks.

  “It makes the pilots soil their suits as soon as they take the pills because they can’t control their bowel movements anymore.”

  Each section has several dozen researchers experimenting with prototype weapons.

  The mechas come in vastly different body types than the ones I’m used to seeing. Many are much smaller than the looming giants that are the norm. Chieko asks about their size, and Nori explains, “In the early phase, they’ll build at a quarter scale to try to test it and pitch it to the brass. If they get approval, they move into the actual development phase. That’s housed in a different section.”

  “We’re not allowed there,” Kazu adds.

  “Yet,” Nori says.

  Kazu laughs. “You’ll be running this place in a decade.”

  We pass through the first area and have to go through another security gate. The second area is similar except that there are just five enormous mechas. They remind me of the lethal Korosu-class mechas, which are usually at our front lines as the most advanced type in the corps. If you crossed a samurai with a stealth jet and gave it curves like a racing car, you’d get this new mecha. Their surfaces are much smoother than the Korosu class, almost no division or separating sheets. The sleeker shoulder fins probably house the antenna and a jamming system, while I’d assume the helmet crest contains the primary sensors. The BPG is contained in the gut, which looks reinforced by titanium. Unlike a completed mecha, there’s no paint applied, so they’re a silvery white. On each of the five mechas, parts are missing and the innards are exposed. A crew is attaching a separated arm piece. There’s a new type of joint-hinge mechanism in the elbow and upper arm that makes me wonder if they’ve been working on speeding up motion.

  Dr. Shimitsu’s assistant, who hasn’t said a word the whole time, looks to the woman walking our way, and says, “This is Dr. Shimitsu,” before scurrying away.

  Dr. Shimitsu is a short Asian female with a bowl cut, wide brown eyes that seem to absorb everything, and a mischievous grin.

  “You’re my testers?” she asks us.

  “We are,” Kazu replies.

  “You all have limited mecha experience?”

  “Very limited.”

  “Good. I want raw feedback from a fresh perspective. The experienced mecha pilots want to keep everything status quo. We have to shake it up with Dr. Günter’s new program. Which of you two are Makoto and Chieko?”

  “That’s us,” Chieko replies.

  “We especially want your feedback because you’ve fought a biomech before.”

  “What kind of feedback?”

  Shimitsu claps her hands. “What else? This is the new Leviathan-class mecha. The first five prototypes are named Arikuni, Yoshimitsu, Sukehira, Kanenaga, and the Muramasa.”

  “What’s the Leviathan class do?”

  “They’re designed for one purpose. Destroy the Nazi biomechs,” Shimitsu answers. That’s exactly what I want to hear. “Don’t talk about anything that you see here outside of these walls,” Shimitsu warns us. “You’ll be shot if you do. Tokko installed audio recognition on your porticals that’ll alert them if you say a word related to the research going on down here. It happened to my last assistant because she mentioned it to one of the researchers while they were eating outside Me
chtown and several civilians overheard, which is why my new one never talks.”

  She says it so quickly, I can’t tell if she just has a dark sense of humor or if her assistant really was executed for talking about the project. Her assistant’s reticence seems to indicate the latter.

  “What do you want us to do?” Kazu asks.

  “First thing I need you to do is run the simulations. We need as much test data as we can get. Try everything. We’ll attempt to mimic simulation information on the Leviathans. We will perform stress testing, unorthodox motion, and combat beyond what my group has been doing. I’ve already requested temporary habitats for all five of you here.”

  “What about our classes?” Nori asks.

  “You’ve been excused from your classes for the next four weeks,” Shimitsu replies. “This testing is of vital interest to the Empire.” She leads us to a circular room with ten simulation booths that are facing one another. “This is the test pit,” she tells us. “Everything’s been reprogrammed to match the Leviathan’s protocols. Strap yourselves in.”

  Before we do, Nori reminds us, “Clean your gear thoroughly with alcohol and disinfectant before you put it on. I got pinkeye last year during the tournaments, and it wasn’t fun.”

  We wash our equipment and put on the basic gear. Plugging in, I’m surprised that the interface and its functionality are similar to the ones we used for the tournament. But there are improvements. In the past, if I wanted to check something on the sensors, I’d have to mark it and query. Now, wherever I look, the system will automatically track my eye movement and show the relevant data, erasing anything that’s fallen out of focus.

  Shimitsu tells us, “When we extend past the initial testing phase, we’ll get you a crew to help you aboard the Leviathans. For the purposes of this initial test, we’ve simplified the interface so you can get by without a navigator, munitions officer, and engineer. We want to see how you fare against a biomech in a standard mecha versus the Leviathan. We’ve been modifying the behavior of the biomech so that it’s as accurate as we can get it. So far, none of our researchers has been able to defeat the biomech without the Leviathan, so we’d like to do a test comparison of how you fare with and without the new mechas.”