Heart of a Traitor

by Aaron Lee Yeager

  “I know that,” Nariko responded aloud, “but it’s going to be a very long time indeed before anyone finds it in there.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Masks and Mirrors

  The terrorists were killed by înjunghea. Sharpened ager chutes were positioned beneath the victim, slowly impaling his body as they grew up from below. It was believed that the broadcast of the executions, the largest in the history of the Old Empire, would deter future uprisings and reassert Ashtari dominance. Instead it had the opposite effect.

  -Excerpt from The Fall of the Ashtari, suppressed by the Marshals 22.03.4112rl

  The next day Nariko found herself inside Keiko’s quarters, watching her and Ami work on her for what felt like an eternity. Even though the trip to Ardura would take several days, Inami had insisted that she get to see Nariko in full undercover attire before they left. Most likely so that she could have some fun at Nariko’s expense.

  “Don’t worry so much. No one said you have to sleep with this guy. He just has to think you will eventually,” Keiko reassured.

  “I just don’t understand why I have to be the point,” Nariko complained.

  “Well, who else can do it? Taka has wings, I’ve got this stupid ‘gifted’ hair of mine, Sakurako has the emotional resonance of spore mold and we know Sorano couldn’t pull it off.”

  “So wear a wig,” Nariko proposed.

  “Only men wear wigs on Ardura,” Keiko clarified.

  Nariko sighed. “What about Ami, then?”

  Ami jumped up. “Ooh, I could do it,” she offered energetically.

  Keiko looked at Nariko as if to say, “I shouldn’t have to explain to you why Ami can’t do this.”

  “No, you’re right. Ami can’t do this,” Nariko reaffirmed.

  “Why not?” Ami pouted.

  Keiko patted Ami on the head and returned to her work. The kesshouhin on Nariko’s face felt very strange to her, like a thin layer of mud that she could feel stretch and tug with her skin when she moved her mouth and face. She felt like it might crack if she opened her mouth wide enough. The kuchi-beni on her lips felt kind of sticky and had a waxy taste when she touched her tongue to it. The mascara they had applied to her eyelashes had a slight weight to it when she blinked and she could feel the lashes at the corner of her eyes sticking together. She had to fight the urge to rub her eyes to get rid of the sensation; Keiko had warned her that it would rub everywhere if she touched it before it set.

  Even though Keiko assured her that they were applying very thin layers on her face, it felt very thick to her. She felt like a clown already.

  “The point of kesshouhin is to simulate and enhance natural beauty,” Keiko explained as she expertly worked on Nariko’s face. At the same time, Ami was working on Nariko’s fingernails and toenails with a complicated array of files, emery boards, clippers, lotions, and paints.

  “Natural beauty,” Keiko continued, “is a nice even skin tone without blemishes, which becomes slightly flushed when a person physically exerts themselves or becomes emotional. Your skin tone is already really good, so we’re going to focus less on concealing flaws and more on enhancing what you have.”

  Nariko felt embarrassed enough as it was and the commentary only seemed to make it worse. “I’d really rather not hear about what you’re doing to me,” she sighed.

  “Think of it as part of your mission briefing,” Keiko justified.

  Are these two really Senshi?

  “Right now we’re gonna give you a nice classy evening look,” Ami explained as she worked happily. “But once we’re there we’ll need to re-apply a lot.”

  Nariko got upset at this. She didn’t like the thought of wasting hours doing this every day during a mission.

  “Why? I thought this stuff wasn’t supposed to rub off once it’s set unless you use the special remover solution stuff.” Nariko accused.

  “It won’t,” Keiko answered. “But you can’t wear a night look during the day. During the day you want flirty eyes, so we use lighter colors around the eyes to make them look bigger and darker colors on the lips. That draws more attention to the lips.”

  Ami nodded as if all of this should be completely obvious, her pink pigtails swaying as she did so.

  “And at night you want smoky eyes,” she continued, “so we use darker colors on the eyes and lighter colors on the lips. That draws more attention to the eyes.”

  “Smoky eyes?” Nariko asked doubtfully.

  “Yeah, seductive eyes,” Ami added. “We’ll also use warmer tones on your face and cheeks so that you’ll look feverish.”

  “Feverish?” Nariko asked. “Why would I want to look like I’m sick?”

  “Think of it more like smoldering than feverish,” Keiko clarified. “Of course, those are only the most basic styles. There are a lot more. There’s a basic-everyday look, a seductive look, a going-to-temple look, a going-out-with-your-friends look...”

  “That’s when you can just have fun with it, like using glitter on your eyes and gluing little body jewels to your face,” Ami interrupted.

  “Yeah, if you’re twelve,” Keiko admonished. “A couple of looks we might actually use on you if the situation calls for it are the going-shopping-but-might-bump-into-a-cute-guy look and the going-out-with-a-bunch-of-guy-friends look.”

  “Now you’re just making stuff up,” Nariko accused.

  “No, this is real stuff. The going-out-with-a-bunch-of-guy-friends look is where the goal is to make any guys that you are not with jealous, while at the same time to not appear that you are overly attached to the guys you are with.”

  “There’s also the going-to-bed-but-someone-special-might-stop-by look,” Ami added. Keiko and Nariko both stopped what they were doing and stared at Ami for a moment.

  “Ami, we’re on a warship. Who’s going to stop by?” Keiko asked, her hair shimmering jade with worry.

  “And who would you want to stop by?” Nariko added.

  Ami didn’t answer; she just giggled to herself and continued with her work.

  Nariko felt completely overwhelmed by all of this. She could never have imagined that there were so many levels of complexity to this. So many subtle ways to send signals and messages and that was just with appearance. She could only guess at the subtleties of gesture, turn of phrase, body language, and gift giving that must exist in Arduran society.

  “Is the average man even going to notice any of these signals?” Nariko asked.

  “Oh no, not at all,” Keiko quipped. “I’d say the average man would not notice even a hundredth part of the signals being sent.”

  “Doesn’t it seem frightfully wasteful to spend hours and hours to achieve something that no man would ever notice anyway?” Nariko complained.

  “No,” Ami said. “Because if you don’t even try to pretty yourself up, they WILL notice that.”

  Nariko felt like she was now expected to function in a broad and complex world that she knew nothing about and that made it seem quite intimidating.

  “How long did it take you guys to learn all of this stuff?” Nariko inquired.

  “You never really stop learning,” Keiko admitted, “but I picked up most of it within a decade or so once I started really learning it. I’m sure it won’t take you much longer than that.”

  “This is nothing,” Ami commented, waving her hand. “You’re not really good at kesshouhin until you can put it on and land a shuttle at the same time.”

  Keiko’s hair turned a coral color and she clasped her hands together in awe of her craftsmanship. Nariko was hoping that she wouldn’t have to see herself in the mirror. Somehow, all of this would be easier to stomach if she just got through this mission without actually seeing herself covered in face paint. Then none of this would be real; it would be more like a bad dream that never really happened.

  Ami left for a moment and bounded back into the room carrying a small red dress made out of a light silky material. When the light hit it at different angles, it revea
led subtle patterns in the fabric. Obviously this was made out of a very expensive material. Ami held the dress alongside her and Nariko noticed that the skirt would be very short on Ami.

  “I’m so excited for you, Nariko-chan,” Ami gushed. “The color on this dress was specially matched to go with your eyes.”

  Nariko furrowed her brow in confusion. “Why would you want a dress that matched my eye color?”

  Ami laughed and Keiko’s hair turned a bright orange.

  “This is part of your undercover wardrobe,” Keiko said gently.

  “I...I’m not wearing a dress,” Nariko squeaked out weakly.

  Keiko’s hair turned indigo with sympathy.

  “I’m sorry, Nari-chan, but the women of Ardura don’t wear pant-suits.”

  “The skirt is so short, I... I thought it was Ami’s,” Nariko stammered. “I’m so much taller than she is. On me it would just be a belt.”

  “I wish it was mine,” Ami pouted as she caressed the light fabric.

  “Ami, see if you can find something a little more modest,” Keiko suggested, realizing that the mini-skirt would be a little overwhelming for Nariko at this point.

  “Modest?” Ami said to herself, furrowing her brow in thought. “I’m not sure Inami bought any like that.”

  “Just go look,” Keiko ordered, her hair turning a slight red.

  Ami stomped out of the room. Nariko could not remember ever being so uncomfortable before. As a warrior she had always prided herself on being able to face any situation, but for some reason having to go out in public and face other people in these clothes and makeup felt far worse than any battlefield she had ever stepped foot on.

  A few minutes later, Nariko was fully dressed up in a long wrap-dress that was made out of a dark-blue velvet material that came down to her ankles and left her shoulders neatly exposed. She wore a pair of long gloves that came up half way on her upper arms, made out of a white satin material. The seal on her collarbone had been neatly hidden with a small patch of synth-skin. Her hair had been put into an elegant up-sweep, held in place by an amethyst clip that complemented the color of the dress.

  Nariko definitely did not like wearing clothes without her null suit on underneath. The gentle caress of the fabric, the delicate touch of the wind on her skin, everything felt too vibrant. Even just standing there she felt overstimulated. It made her feel exposed and she had to fight the urge to cross her arms in front of her. Nariko worked up her courage as she made her way over to the full-length mirror that Keiko had set up against the wall.

  Nariko had always hated her cursed form. She felt that she was freakishly tall for a woman, now more than six and a half feet. Her breasts seemed absurdly large for her frame, her waist unreasonably small and her hips ridiculously wide. In her opinion, she didn’t even look like a human. She looked more like a doll, or a caricature. An idolized version of a human female created on a whim by a demon of lust. This body was not her own. It was a cage in which she had been imprisoned for nearly three hundred years.

  Nariko approached the mirror timidly and then looked into it. At first, all she could do was stand there with her mouth open.

  The image in the mirror was elegant and graceful. The dress flattered her form beautifully and gave her a balance and poise that amazed her. The kesshouhin was barely even noticeable and made her face lovely to look at. Even her red eyes didn’t seem out of place; instead they looked resplendently exotic and alluring. She really looked the part of a radiant young lady of the court.

  Ever since Tridia, Nariko had only thought of the darkness and the ugliness inside of her, but looking at herself in the mirror like this, she found it hard to remember those feelings. This was a beautiful young person staring back at her in the mirror and even though she knew this was not her true form, it made her heart feel lighter to see herself look this way.

  Nariko glanced sideways to make sure no one was looking and indulged herself for a moment, mincing back and forth, savoring the image before her.

  Keiko had clipped a silver earring onto her ear, in the shape of a crystal shard. The tugging sensation felt odd, but seemed to fit somehow. At least Keiko had been thoughtful enough to use a clip-on. Getting her ears re-pierced every day would have been bothersome.

  Nariko became aware of Ami and Keiko gushing at her and became self-conscious again.

  “I don’t think I can do this,” Nariko admitted.

  Keiko put her hand on Nariko’s shoulder reassuringly.

  “Look, one day soon we’ll end this curse and return to our true forms. Why not see what it’s like to be wined and dined like a lady in the meantime? You’ve always been a soldier. It’ll be a unique experience for you.”

  “I’m really not sure how I am supposed to walk in these things,” Nariko alerted, shuffling her weight clumsily on the high-heeled shoes she they had put her in.

  “You are trying to walk heel-toe, you need to let the heel and toe of the shoe touch the ground at the same time,” Keiko coached.

  Nariko tried again with some success.

  “But I’m already too tall,” she complained. “Why would I need to look even taller?”

  “You don’t wear heels to make yourself taller. The heels in your shoes make you walk on your tip-toes, which brings out the definition in your leg muscles and forces your hips to sway more when you walk. That’s the point of them,” Keiko instructed.

  “I’ll look like a freak!” Nariko argued as she stumbled.

  “You’ll be fine. The men of Ardura love tall women; you’ll practically be a celebrity.”

  “Besides,” Ami mentioned. “With the dresses Inami bought for you they’ll be too busy staring at your chest to notice your height anyway.”

  Nariko definitely didn’t like the sound of that.

  Mystery solved. Obviously Inami gave me this mission expressly to humiliate me.

  Nariko felt a twinge of anger within her and she reminded herself that she must succeed in this mission in order to duel Inami.

  “Okay, now the trick is to glide as you walk,” Keiko drilled, “so that your upper body moves along without bouncing or swaying. This will place further emphasis on the curves of your waist and hips.”

  Keiko demonstrated by walking down the length of the room on her tiptoes. Nariko was surprised at how effortlessly feminine Keiko’s movements were. She really appeared the part of a young lady.

  “Okay, now you try,” Keiko said as she spun around gracefully on one foot.

  Nariko moved clumsily across the room, swinging her hips in an exaggerated fashion as she did so, looking much like a fish swinging in the air when held by its tail. Keiko bit her lip to keep from laughing and weighed her response carefully. She kept the amusement off of her face, but her hair was a vibrant orange.

  “Okay, that was pretty good, but it was more of a mince. You need to glide.”

  “What’s the difference?” Nariko argued. “I wiggle my rear end and the guys will be happy, right?”

  “The wrong kind of guys will get happy. Enjo-kosai mince, while ladies sashay. You will need to be a lady to complete this mission.”

  “And try not to act like your toes are all scrunched up,” Ami suggested.

  “My toes are all scrunched up,” Nariko complained.

  “Yes, but you can’t act like it,” Keiko coached.

  “How’s this for a sash?” Nariko challenged, imitating Keiko’s style as best she could.

  “It’s sah-shay, not sash,” Keiko corrected. “A sash is something you wear on your shoulder.”

  “Ooh, we should buy her a sash,” Ami brainstormed.

  After a few minutes of training, Nariko was doing much better, but her walk was still more of a drunken waddle than the gliding that Keiko could pull off.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  In the Shadow of Kanochan

  The two great churches are not rivals, but brothers. Each seeks to answer a fundamentally different set of questions. The Church of the Machine tells us
how the planets move, while the Church of the Man tells us why they move. The Preots tell us how a child grows in the womb, while the Cardinals tell us why we have children.

  -Cardinal Jerson Onand at the signing of the Geminu Convention 06.12.2097rl

  A few hours later, Nariko was able to work up the nerve to enter the equipment bay for Shiro squad, where final preparations were being made for their launch. Arashi-class shuttles were originally designed for reconnaissance, but among the Daughters of Drak’Nal they were also pressed into service as insertion vehicles, because of their small size and decent range. They were among the smallest craft capable of mounting an ether drive and their re-entry wave was small enough to go undetected in many systems.

  The Kanochan had been painted in Arduran colors and the weapons systems had been removed. In the event of visual contact, it was hoped that local authorities would take it for an expensive civilian transport for some eccentric heiress. A rumor of such an heiress had even been implanted into the Arduran news holo-net just in case.

  Keiko was overseeing the loading of the shuttle. Weapons and ammunition, foodstuffs, and supplies, as well as an assortment of undercover clothing and a variety of wigs to give them natural hair colors. Nori had even made a special harness for Taka that would allow her to conceal her wings inside a hiking backpack, with minimal discomfort.

  In spite of the fact that Nariko outranked her, Keiko would be acting squad leader during this mission, because she had far greater experience with undercover insertion missions and because Nariko would be unable to direct the squad when she was acting as the point. For the Senshi of Correll, ability was valued more than office, so long as proper deference was paid to the higher rank.

  Nariko approached the shuttle cautiously. Taka and Sorano were the first ones to notice her and dropped the stuff they were carrying to come over and gaggle at her.

  “Wow, you look really good!” Taka exclaimed. “I can’t believe it’s you in that dress.”