Sakai leans in and looks hard into my eyes, and I do my best to stand still and not draw back. His glare is intense and follows the curve of my forehead, over my eyebrows, and down across my chin. He studies every line, every millimeter, and I’m a little disturbed by how familiar he is with me. “No. No, you are not.”
He sighs and turns toward the window again while I try to will the blush from my face and steady my heart rate.
“Tomorrow we start your real education, Sanaa-chan.”
* * * *
So the next day I start as I usually do based on instructions Sakai provided when he dismissed me at the dōjō. Before bed last night, I sat at my desk and traced back the message I received from Coen’s office. It didn’t take long to find which servers the data was routed through and determine the message is not a fake. It’s the real deal. I sighed and cursed my stupid birthday. I’m an adult now. Independent. I can’t go to my aunts and ask them to get me out of this. I spent the whole night tossing and turning and wondering what was going to happen to me. I think I got a few hours sleep but it wasn’t restful at all.
When the alarm sounds at 7:05am, I get up, shower, dress in Nishikyō grays, and say good-bye to my Aunt Lomo who is always up in the morning before she goes to work. I pick up a breakfast bento box at my local cafeteria and walk towards the engineering building. As I come upon the main street, I turn left instead of right and walk to the dōjō. I try not to feel nauseated, but my nervous energy has me all wound up. I doubt I’ll eat much breakfast.
The dōjō is deserted again except for Sakai. Where is everyone else anyway? A morning class is scheduled here every day.
“Just us?” I join Sakai at the window. He’s drinking a steaming cup of tea and holding his tablet.
“Yes. It will mostly be just us for the duration of our time together. This dōjō will no longer host classes. A new facility has been opened up the street.” He leans forward and eyes a building three down and across where the lights are blazing and a group of young people practice with the windows open.
“Huh, I didn’t see that there yesterday.” I try to open my bento box, but it slips in my unsteady fingers.
“Are you all right, Sanaa-chan?”
I close my eyes and concentrate on stilling my hands, but my fingers shake even more. I wish I could pretend like this whole situation doesn’t scare me. That would be easier than dealing with my nerves, which I’m trying hard to do.
“I’m afraid I didn’t get much sleep last night.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Sorry for what?” Sakai’s piteous look is making my blood race, anger overcoming the fear. Calm down, Sanaa.
“I’m sorry we sprung this on you so quickly. I thought it might be better to change everything at once, but you are obviously upset about your change in position.”
He seems a lot less stern this morning. All night I had built him up in my mind as being someone determined to make my life difficult. I never expected him to apologize.
“I love my job as an engineer. It’s all I’ve ever wanted to do. Please tell me you’ll send me back?”
“Eat,” he says looking at my breakfast.
With a sigh, I take a bite of inarizushi and a sip of coffee. Sakai peers down his nose disapprovingly. “What? I love coffee,” I say, taking a deep breath over my cup.
He cracks a small smile, and his relaxation is warming me up, my stomach unclenching. “That must be your father’s influence,” he says, clearing his throat without elaborating further. Wait, my father? “You did not see the dōjō yesterday because it wasn’t there yesterday. We moved them over last night.”
With every word he says, my fear is subsiding, and I’m becoming more like my old self. In fact, I think he’s enjoying being secretive, and in return, I secretly want to kick him. Yep, the fire is back.
“We?” I ask to stop myself from lashing out at him. I do have a temper (Aunt Kimie calls it the dragon within me) and right now he’s lucky I’m still too scared to let it show. I keep eating.
“I employ a staff. Maybe someday you will meet them, but until then, they’ll be of little impact on our days together.” Sakai takes one last sip of his tea and turns to me, but I’m busy shoving the last of my rice in my mouth.
“How ladylike.”
“What?” I say around a mouthful of rice. “You’re ready to go, ne?”
He nods and takes my bento, depositing the container in the auto-washer near the door. “You will please use good manners and conduct yourself as an adult while we are out.”
I roll my eyes. I am extremely ladylike, can’t he tell?
“Today, we’ll take the transitway to Ku 1, the Administrative Ward. You’ve been there.”
“Yes, a few times — for work — and when I was little… when my parents died. I don’t have any other reasons to visit.” I follow Sakai out of the dōjō and across the street to the transitway entrance, and we take the train north from Ku 9, past Ku 10, to Ku 1.
The Administrative Ward of the city houses the government of Nishikyō. If you are involved in politics, public service, or monetary business, then you live and work there. If you need permits, want more than one child or to get married, need a small vehicle for your business, or any other similar matter, you go to Ku 1. It’s the center of all that makes Nishikyō work.
I keep quiet for most of the ride. Sitting next to Sakai, I watch him from the corner of my eye for a few minutes before I find my voice again.
“So, do Yoichi and Jiro work for you? You were all together on New Year’s Eve.” I’m trying to figure out how these people all fit into this puzzle, and I’m dying to learn more about Jiro especially after yesterday morning’s run-in with Chad.
“You could say that, yes.”
“Will I see them too when I work for you?” Sakai is so stern. It would be nice to see a friendly face once in a while. I’m used to working with tons of people.
“Possibly, but for the next two months or so, you and I will be working alone.”
He is silent again and staring straight forward. I’m lonely already.
When we arrive in Ku 1, Sakai leads the way to the Data & Communications building. The streets in Ku 1 are no less busy than Ku 9 but definitely cleaner and more subdued, devoid of the boxes stacked outside businesses and restaurants. Everyone is on their way to work. No children playing in the street or old men sitting outside of their shops watching the street traffic. I smooth out my shirt and keep pace at Sakai’s side.
The Data & Communications building is in the domed courtyard of Ku 1 to the left of the Main Administration Building where Coen, her staff, and all the ward representatives pore over legislation. The domes that keep the rest of the wards safe from the elements are usually artfully hidden behind the tops of buildings. Here, they soar high above so you can’t help but notice them, and my eyes immediately move up to stare.
Administration is on the highest level of Ku 1. If the dome were transparent, the other farming domes and towers would be within sight in the distance. Nishikyō domes are opaque, though, because the people who live and work here have most likely never seen the outside. I never have.
Sakai enters the building and approaches the lobby’s check-in desk. He puts on a broad smile when the woman at the front desk looks up to greet him.
“Ohayo gozaimasu. We have booked an 8:00am room. Sakai, Mark. Griffin, Sanaa.” The woman blushes and checks her terminal. Sakai continues to smile, and I’m sure his eyes actually twinkle. Charmer.
“You’re all set in theater 3B on level two. Would you like your tablet to show you the way?”
“I know the way. Arigatō gozaimasu. Have a good morning.” Sakai leads me through a scanner at security, up an elevator, and to a room labeled 3B. To the right of the door is a keypad and palm scanner. Instinctively, I reach out but stop short of placing my hand on reader.
Sakai notices my hesitation. “No. Please. You have been cleared, obviously.” I place my palm on the scanner,
and the door clicks open after my name and citizen ID number are displayed.
The room — no, it is not a room, it is a theater — is larger than my entire apartment. The wall adjacent to the door is showing a terminal read-out screen in idle mode, and in the middle of the room is an automated desk with four chairs. Sakai walks to the desk and places his tablet upon the surface. The tablet and terminal pair up, and he is given instant access into the system. I sit down next to him and peek over his shoulder. The root system is the Great Database, the GDB.
“Sanaa, I’m going to get straight to the heart of the matter.”
Good. I hate all of this already despite how curious I am.
“You have grown up in Nishikyō, spent your entire life here, but never really left the confines of your small neighborhood unless it was for work.” I feel small again. How does he do that? “But, you are not unique in this. Not traveling is often a common problem amongst citizens. Few rarely leave their ku, let alone see more than 10% of the city in their lifetime. Why is this, do you suppose?”
I set aside my annoyance at his generalizations and think about the structure and layout of the city — something I’m fairly knowledgable about since I’m a civil engineer. The city is somewhat shaped like a clock. Ku is 1 directly north at the top, Ku 2, the Medical Services Ward, is at the center, and the rest of the city is laid out around Ku 2 clockwise. Ku 8, the Extinction Ward, and Ku 10, the Farming Ward, are both so large they spiral out from the city farther into the desert than any of the other wards. Most wards are linked by footpaths and street tunnels but the transitway is the easiest way to get anywhere in the city.
“The kus are self-sustaining and fairly segregated, yes? Etooooo…” I stammer and think. Sakai’s eyes are boring through my head.
“Go on,” he prompts.
I sigh. “If you have no reason to leave your ward then what’s the point? I can walk out the door and find just about anything I need within reach. Only the Japanese travel extensively. I rarely encounter people of other races outside of their ku. Is that on purpose? I never really thought about it.”
“It was not meant to be on purpose, no. When Nishikyō was built, the city was the last hope of mankind to continue living on Earth. The Japanese were the last majority with the technology to build it, so Nishikyō is inherently Japanese. Everything is bilingual: English and Japanese. You only hear Arabic, German, Spanish, even Swahili,in the wards where those who speak those languages settled. No one meant to segregate themselves but humans arrived at Nishikyō in waves. No laws exist that only Arabs must live in Ku 3, but that’s where the only mosque is. And this is also why the remainder of Jews live in Ku 4.”
“The only Jewish temple is located there. Yes, I’ve actually been to study the architecture. I love buildings.” I clamp down on my lips and smile through sadness. I already miss my job.
Sakai smiles back at me, and I receive my first bit of warmth from him.
“I’ve been overly harsh with you, Sanaa. You are sheltered but not as much as some. I’m pleased.”
I can’t help but smile back at him. When he’s happy like this, he feels so familiar to me.
“I’ve traveled to a lot of places in the city. Aunt Kimie and Lomo love good food so we’ve been to Ku 3 and 4 a lot, and I grew up in Ku 5.”
He nods his head and smiles. “But you do spend the majority of your time in Ku 9. I think you have only ever not spent time in Ku 6, ne?”
Yes, I haven’t been to the Japanese Ward since I was a little girl. I nod back as Sakai turns to the tablet and calls up a prompt to the GDB. He moves the data from his tablet to the large screen so we can both view it.
“This is the current population data about Nishikyō. It’s detailed. Information on every citizen is registered here, and it will give you a start to understanding the city as a whole.”
I stand and walk to the screen. While looking at the data, I twist my hair in my fingers and let it go, over and over.
“This here is the census total?” I point to a number above a colorful pie chart. 6,320,426. Just over six million people left on all of Earth. I look long and hard at that number. How will they ever transport that many people to Yūsei? The number seems enormous, but then I think about what the Earth population used to be — closer to twelve billion. So many lost. “Seems like so much yet I know the population is so little.”
“Yes. This data is only two days old.” We both sit in silence and stare at the pie chart. The Japanese slice of the pie is near seventy percent. If a citizen has fifty percent or more Japanese blood, they are included in this number. The second largest number is United States and Canada, then Australia, then South America, India, China, and slices of the pie so small I can’t examine them without having to zoom in. But these countries don’t mean anything anymore. They are a designation of where our ancestors came from. Everyone is from Nishikyō now.
“It certainly is overwhelming. In a way, it’s hard to see the Japanese number so high.”
Sakai chuckles which makes me blush. “You have the humble gene, but that’s good. We Japanese are good at being humble, but we’re also smart and ruthless on occasion. Have you ever looked at the GDB’s family trees?”
“No. This is my first time ever seeing raw data from the GDB.”
Usually access is restricted to people with much higher clearance than myself. So much of the GDB was damaged during the wars that little remains of records about the history of Earth. Most knowledge had been handed down through generations until the GDB was rebuilt. The administration is now extremely careful about adding data, and a committee is assigned to updating it frequently. We are loathe to make the same mistake twice.
“The majority of Nishikyō is Japanese, yes, but the variances in Japanese backgrounds is not as wide as you may think.” Sakai taps three different trees, groups them together, and zooms in. They are the three widest trees on the screen out of all of them. “This tree here on the left is identified today as the Minamoto clan.”
“Wait a minute.” Blood is leaving my head, and I blink my eyes to keep them in focus. “Clan? It’s been almost two thousand years since feudal Japan even existed.” Now all of the sightings of family crests are starting to make more sense. I am so naive. I always thought they were just decoration.
Sakai waits a moment before continuing. “The clans have always been here. No one is outspoken about their affiliations but almost every Japanese citizen can trace their heritage back to a clan of some kind. These are the biggest and most prosperous in the city: Minamoto, Taira, and Maeda. Minamoto and Taira are the two largest by blood, but Maeda is strong because they recruit from other clans.”
“Yakuza.” I say the word as quietly as possible. The stories of the yakuza of Old Japan are both fascinating and disturbing. Though yakuza did most of their business in the open, what they did behind closed doors frightened most people.
“Don’t be too surprised,” he says with a slight smile. “Who did you think runs most of the gambling in Kus 6 and 7?”
The gambling areas of Kus 6 and 7 are always bright and lively, and they seem to run twenty-four hours a day without downtime. Thinking of the times I’ve gone to Izakaya Tanaka or out to eat with my aunts, I remember passing the pachinko parlors and casinos in Ku 7, and the other businesses that seemed busy but had no signs on the doors. Aunt Kimie always avoided eye contact with any of the tattooed men positioned outside. Even geisha are transported and guarded by many of the same men. It’s reasonable now to assume they were all yakuza.
“I never thought much about it. My family was never involved in such things. My aunts avoid Ku 6.” We used to go regularly when grandfather was still alive, but that was a long time ago. I don’t even remember what Ku 6 looks like.
“The yakuza are necessary to life here, believe it or not. You and I are not to debate their merits. They mostly do respectable business and rarely break the law. Taira and Minamoto on the other hand…”
His voice trails off.
Whatever he’s not telling me is big, but I have other questions.
I lean forward over his tablet again. “Which clan do you belong to? What about me? My family?”
“My clan is smaller. My namesake: Sakai clan. We act mainly as retainers, teachers, accountants, guides, and so on to other clans and non-Japanese here in the city. We are neutral. Your family… your family is not currently affiliated with any clan.”
“Can I see my family tree?” I am really curious now. I’ve never considered my family tree.
“Not today. I’m afraid I didn’t call that data up ahead of time.” Sakai turns back to his tablet and misses my short pout. “For now, it’s important to understand and memorize the big bosses and sub-families of each clan in the city. Your job will be to know them better than they know themselves. You can do this because you will have unlimited access to these families, their trees, and all of their purchases, movements via train or car, permits, hospital stays, and anything else you can call up in the database. There will also be surveillance videos from public spaces at your disposal.”
My head is throbbing with the scope of what Sakai is asking of me.
“Why? Why have me do any of this? You have a staff. Can’t they sit here and compile this data for you?” This doesn’t seem like a job for a civil engineer. Why me?
“This sounds like a lot, but I’m sure you’re the right one for this task. I chose you, Sanaa, because I’m certain you’re the person who can watch these people and make the connections between them that I cannot. You will advise me and, in turn, I will advise Coen-sama. I work with these clans, but I can’t watch them like you can. My duties call me elsewhere. You’re analytical and logical. You would not only make a good engineer, you would make an excellent detective.”
Me out of everyone? He knows just what to say because I’m suddenly proud of myself and, also, greedy at the thought of all the information at my fingertips. I still don’t believe his explanation, but what can I do? I can fight him but my struggles will get me nowhere.
Nebula Nights: Love Among The Stars Page 13
