by S. S. Segran
“All right. Well, let me know if you need anything.” She tapped the tabletop beside him and left.
Tony’s internal monologue tapered off to a soliloquy consisting of a single, endless yell. It took nearly twenty minutes before he finally came back to his senses.
It’s okay. It’ll all be okay. I’ve got a stable job and roof over my head in California. It’s not like I’ve been living on the family fortune the past two years. I’ve been a self-made man for a while now. So why am I panicking?
Because you just ended your relationship with your parents, you moron, his other self scoffed. The two people you’ve known literally all your life.
Ah, right. Hooray. I’ve graduated from mildly worried to absolutely terrified.
You’re a free man now. Celebrate! No one to tell you what a disappointment you are. No misplaced obligation to the people who don’t deserve it. Your wings aren’t clipped anymore.
A gradual leer stretched his lips, giddy and fiendish, and a low laugh rumbled deep in his throat; he caught it before it could escape into the diner. He resumed eating his breakfast more calmly than he’d ever been, and left a generous tip before exiting onto the street to search for his car.
He’d taken a bus into the city after leaving the Cross estate the night before and, being too smashed to remember which bar he’d left his vehicle, opted to pass out on a park bench in his formalwear. Thankfully no one bothered him, and his hangover was welcomed in lieu of his parents’ ceaseless chastisement.
As he strolled through the streets, a thought hit him. Agh, I’m an idiot. He fished out his wallet and found the receipt for the bar he’d visited. Typing the name into the map on his phone, he followed it to the establishment and rounded the building to find his silver Chevy Malibu waiting exactly where he’d left it.
As he searched his pocket for his keys, something sharp pricked his thumb. “Ow,” he muttered, withdrawing the object. It was a business card. What the… He peered at the name. Jerry Li, Chief Financial Officer, Phoenix Corporation. Who is this and why do I have—ohhh. Oh. Guess I wasn’t drunk enough to forget this completely.
He turned the card over between his finger, mouth skewed to one side as he pondered. He said to give him a ring if I wanted to expand my horizon. But is that what I really want?
He held the card up and sunlight glinted off the phoenix hologram printed at the top, turning it into a real flaming bird.
Hm. Why not give it a shot? New day, new opportunities.
He slid behind the wheel of his car and dialed the number on the card. Jerry picked up after three rings. “Hello?”
“Mr. Li,” Tony said, reclining in his seat. “It’s Tony, from last night.”
“Tony!” the other man exclaimed, sounding delighted. “Good morning. How are you?”
“I’m great. My leash has been cast away and I’m looking for new opportunities.”
“That’s perfect. I hope you don’t mind me saying I’m proud of you.”
“Not at all.”
“Good, because I really am. So, you’re seeking new opportunities?”
“Yes. I was hoping your offer from last night still stands.”
“It definitely does. Are you free today? I can set up a meeting for you with our HR guy.”
Tony turned his face toward the sun, basking in its glow. A peculiar sense of contentment spread throughout him, like he was about to begin his journey to a home he never knew he had.
“Sounds perfect,” he said. “Let me know the time and place.”
* * *
At four in the afternoon, Tony sat on the same park bench he’d slept on the night before. He thought it was an odd place to meet, but who was he to judge? There were relatively few people walking by with children and dogs; most of the families had gone away for summer vacation.
A voice by his ear made him jump. “Hello, Tony!”
Tony twisted around to behold Jerry’s beaming face. The man looked the same as when he’d last seen him: black hair slicked back stylishly, thick-rimmed glasses, and a fancy suit that did well to cover his pudginess. The only thing different was his bowtie; today it was striped like a zebra.
Behind him was a Caucasian man of diminutive stature, and possibly the least appealing person Tony had ever laid eyes on. Like Jerry, he too was bespectacled with black hair, but that was where the similarities ended. His huge, bug-like eyes glinted as though he knew something everyone else didn’t, and just above, where his eyebrows should have been, was hairless skin. When he looked at Tony, it seemed to be with some superiority.
Mmph, Tony thought. This should be interesting.
“Tony, this is Dr. Ian Nate, Director of Human Resources for Phoenix Corporation, among other… things. Dr. Nate, Tony Cross.”
“Pleasure making your acquaintance,” the shorter man said. “Mr. Li ’as told me much about you.” He smiled, confidently showing crooked teeth. “You seem to possess… ’ow shall I say… a very interesting lens with which you see the world. A clear lens, I might add, that reflects much of what we believe in as an organization. Many good people have felt for a long time that there is something grievously wrong with our stewardship of the planet. At Phoenix, we’ve gone beyond fruitless debates and elitist postulations. We’re actually doing something about it on a global scale, and there’s room for someone of your caliber and values. But I must warn you, this undertaking isn’t for the faint of heart and requires nothing but total and complete commitment. If you think that this is up your alley, I would be more than happy to explore this opportunity with you.”
Tony sat back, contemplating Dr. Nate’s speech. It was a good pitch, he had to admit. A great one, even. And much of it lined up with his budding beliefs. Perhaps there was something to this, something worth looking into that would help him on his path to discovering himself in his entirety.
With a relaxed grin, Tony rocked his head to the side and held out his hand. “Count me in. I’d be honored to be on board.”
Dr. Nate grasped his hand with what was probably all his strength, looking downright ecstatic. “We’re glad to have you, Mr. Cross. These are exciting times and believe me, we will change the world. We will make it better.”
Aegis Chronicles:
#3 - Kenzo Igarashi
by
S.S.Segran
AEGIS CHRONICLES
VOLUME #3
Kenzo Igarashi
Drip. Drip. Drip.
Kenzo stood in the doorway, watching in muted horror as blood painted the hardwood floor. He dragged his gaze to the source, to where his father lay mere feet from him.
With heavy steps, Kenzo pulled himself through the entrance to his home, his refuge, and dropped to his knees beside the body. The only color left was a darkening red circle in the middle of his father’s chest. The eyes, once filled with twinkling humor, stared blankly at the ceiling.
Choking back a sob, Kenzo placed a hand on this father’s cheek. Scratchy, day-old stubble rubbed against his palm. “Papa?”
The man remained still, cold to the touch. Kenzo sat back on his heels, the stinging in his eyes blurring his vision. He looked past his father toward another crumpled form—his mother.
Weakly, he crawled on all fours toward her. She bled from her head, but somehow her chest rose and fell ever so slightly with fluttering breaths. Kenzo took her head in his hands, ignoring the way his skin turned scarlet.
“Mama,” he whimpered. “Mama, stay with me. Stay with me. Please.”
But her breathing slowed until it was gone. He pressed his forehead against hers, burning tears falling onto her face. “No, Mama. No. Come back. Come back. Please. I need you.”
Her eyes suddenly snapped open, stark red. She grabbed his throat. His instincts screeched at him to fight back but he refused to lay a hand on her.
His mother was alive. That was all that mattered.
So what if he died in her stead?
An alarm screamed, sharp and shrill.
Kenzo Igar
ashi bolted upright on the sofa bed, the blanket piling around his waist. Frazzled, he looked toward the small kitchen and saw his cousin frantically waving an empty cereal box under the smoke detector. The alarm abated a few moments later. She grumbled to herself, pushing away stray hair from her messy bun, then returned to the stove with her back to him.
Kenzo hauled himself out of bed and shuffled over to her. “Ren.” He scrubbed at his eyes with the heels of his palms. “It’s my turn to make breakfast, ’member?”
“It’s fine,” she said flatly.
He leaned against the counter beside the stove, arms crossed, and took a good look at her. Her dark brown eyes were fixed on the crisping pancake batter, and the curve of her mouth was pulled down instead of its usual upward quirk. Kenzo had seen that expression enough times over the past half year.
“Hey,” he murmured, "this is better. Okay? That was a toxic house. I wasn’t going to stay there. And I definitely wasn’t going to leave you alone with your parents.”
Tears welled in Ren’s eyes but she made no move to brush them away. She looked so tired, so miserable. Kenzo took the spatula from her and put it aside, then tugged her into a hug. He rested his chin on top of her head as her arms encircled him.
“Shh,” he whispered as she shook against his chest. “It’s okay. We’re okay.”
“I miss them, Ken. It’s so stupid, but I miss them.”
“It’s not stupid. They gave you life and raised you.” Kenzo clenched his teeth. “But they’re not worth your time. We’re free now. They can’t hurt us.”
She looked up at him, chin quivering. “I owe you a lot. Your support, the fight for our emancipation… God, I’m so self-absorbed. You actually lost your dad. And your mom is… ugh! My parents are still alive and I’m crying like a—”
“Tch! First of all, squirrel-face, you owe me nothing. We’re family. Second… yeah, your parents may still be alive but you lost them, too. I know that’s got to hurt a lot. We’re all we’ve got, Ren. But honestly? Look at us. Seventeen, in our second year of university on full scholarships. I think this proves we’re gonna be just fine. And no matter what, I’ll always be here.”
She buried her face into his t-shirt, sniffling. “You’re a pretty great guy, itoko.”
Kenzo grinned. “Don’t I know it.”
Ren snorted and thumped him on the back. They stood in silence until the smell of something burning hit their noses. Ren groaned. “There go the pancakes.”
“I’ll make another batch,” Kenzo said, swinging her away from the kitchen. “Go get ready.”
She gave a wan smile before briefly disappearing into her room, then ducking into the bathroom. By the time she was clean and had donned new clothes, Kenzo had a stack of pancakes set at the tiny dinner table. He listened to her chatter as they ate, inwardly glad that the shower seemed to have restored her spirits.
While Ren did the dishes, he grabbed a change of clothes and slipped into the shower, turning the knob to the coldest setting he could handle. He stood in the downpour, shivering slightly. The nightmare returned in flashes and he blinked them away. His fists curled. It was always the same. The dreams occurred less frequently now, but when they did it was as vivid as the night two years ago when he’d stepped into his house and found his parents on the floor.
A robbery gone wrong. That’s what the authorities had surmised when they’d arrived just minutes after him. The crime had left him to cremate his father and put his mother in an assisted living facility when the bullet in her brain proved to have done too much damage.
Kenzo’s chest heaved. A trail of wet salt dripped into his mouth. Resting his forehead against the wall, he screwed his eyes shut and counted silently until he’d regained his grip on reality, then turned off the shower. He took his time getting ready, mostly to avoid facing Ren while his eyes were still red and puffy, and blasted heavy metal on the bathroom’s portable speaker to clear his head. He’d just pulled on his jeans and a long-sleeved thermal when Ren knocked on the door and popped her head in.
“You’re a slowpoke today,” she said, sticking out her tongue at him. “Let’s go, we’re running late.”
Kenzo combed his fingers through his silver hair, an ancestral oddity from a recessive gene. He quickly gelled the voluminous top layers to the side, then hurried after her. “Get your coat,” he called as he stepped out of the small apartment. “The wind chill is killer today, it’s nuts. Eugene never gets hit with snowstorms like this.”
Ren rolled her eyes. “I happen to like the cold.”
“Good for you. I don’t. And I don’t want to deal with you getting sick, ’cause then I’ll get sick.”
They rode the condo building’s elevator to the parking garage, and Kenzo pulled out into the snowy morning in his father’s black Infiniti—no, that wasn’t right. It was Kenzo’s car now. He clicked his tongue sourly. It still took some getting used to, even if it was over a year since he’d started driving on his own.
He dropped Ren off at the animal shelter where she volunteered, then drove to the long, two-story cream building he dreaded. He took a moment to awkwardly offer a prayer. His father had been Buddhist but his mother was Christian. Prayers had never been within Kenzo’s comfort zone; regardless, he always uttered one before visiting his only living parent.
Being a weekly visitor, it only took a minute for the employees at the assisted living facility to usher him to the room his feet knew by muscle memory.
He entered to find his mother sitting on a cushioned chair facing a window, her back to him. Kenzo quietly pulled another chair up beside her, taking his place on her left side instead of her paralyzed right.
Being around her never got easier. There was a constant distant look in her eyes and when she would turn her gaze to him, it was never with the light of recognition. Even so, she seemed to enjoy his company whenever he visited; enough to allow him to sometimes hold her hand and chat with her.
“Hey, Mama,” he said, voice soft and smile bright. “How are you today?”
She regarded him with mild wariness, then cleared her throat. With great care and difficulty, she said, “I am happy.”
“That’s good. Has Ansel been here yet?”
“Um.” She paused, frowning at her knees, then looked back at him. “Speech… speech came today.” She nodded, satisfied.
“That’s right, it’s Thursday. Speech therapy day.”
The corners of her eyes crinkled as she grinned. Some strands of graying hair fell over the side of her face and she pushed it back. Kenzo watched her, then tentatively asked, “Do… do you know who I am?”
She regarded him closely, as if studying something under a microscope, then shook her head. “Should I? Oh! Oh, wait. Earlier, you called me mmm… mmm… Mama.”
“Yeah. Mama.”
She giggled, a sweet sound that broke Kenzo’s heart. “I’m not your… I’m not Mama. Don’t have a son. Not even married!”
Kenzo glanced away. It had been worth a shot, but with a lot of her memory gone, and the aphasia, he should have known better than to get his hopes up. Again.
Forcing back a sigh, he plastered on another smile. “Right. You remember I told you what I’ve been working on with Ren and our professor? I promised I’d keep you updated, so—”
“You didn’t promise me. We haven’t… we haven’t…” His mother made a frustrated sound.
“We haven’t met,” Kenzo supplied.
“Yes.”
“Well, do you mind if I share with you anyway?”
She considered his question for a moment, then beamed. “No. Please do.”
“Okay, so, my prof is a really great dude. After he heard what happened to you, he invited Ren and me to help him with a project that he’s been working on for years. Basically, we’re trying to find a way to reverse brain damage. We’re putting in long hours and there’s so much to learn. And if his theory is right… man. Anyway, we’re just at the beginning stages of the experiment but I�
��m really excited to see where this leads us.”
“Ooh, that sounds wonderful,” she chirped in a detached, polite way.
Kenzo gnawed the insides of his cheeks in frustration and swung the conversation back to more casual subjects. She responded to that easily. After a while, he looked at the time on his phone. “Ah, I gotta get going. Need to get some shopping done.”
His mother bid him a soft goodbye, still beaming. Kenzo squeezed her hand, then got up and stepped out of the room. With one last look at her, he shut the door, his heart painfully heavy in the confines of his chest.
* * *
“Thanks, Logan,” Kenzo called as he and Ren entered the recently-renovated bio lab at the University of Oregon’s Institute of Neuroscience. “You’re awesome!”
The young brown-haired technician smiled, readjusting the huge glasses that gave him the appearance of a Japanese cartoon character. “Stop it, Ken. You two have been coming in almost every night the past few months, I think me opening this door is more of a ritual than anything else at this point.”
“Etiquette is important in society!” Ren hollered as she started setting up their electroencephalography workstation.
“Hm, that’s true. Don’t muck up anything!”
As the technician retreated to a small side room filled with paperwork, Kenzo got out his laptop and a five-hundred-page notebook filled with multicolored handwriting and diagrams. When he looked up a while later, he found his cousin mixing shampoo and potassium chloride into a liter of distilled water.
“Ren!” he exclaimed.
She paused halfway, peering at him sheepishly. “Hi.”
“I thought we were gonna try ECoG with the mice tonight!”
“Tomorrow,” she said, resuming her work. “I promise. I just wanna make sure our data is constant.”
“I doubt we’re gonna get more out of this with the EEG. We need better spatial resolution.”
She pouted. “Please, Ken?”
He glared at her, then slumped against one of the long tables and blew a raspberry. “Okay, fine, but that’s it. We need to move forward after this.”
