by M. R. Forbes
“Whoa,” I heard Frank say softly as he came up beside me. “Just whoa.”
“Yeah, I’m Baron,” I said, ignoring him. I guess he thought she was attractive. She was a little too close to being a feral for me. “You are?”
“Shika,” she replied. “Mr. Tarakona asked me to meet you here.”
Of course he did.
“You’re our keeper?” I asked.
“Guide,” she said. “Or do you think you can navigate Tokyo on your own?” She shifted and waved at the city behind her.
I followed the wave. Tokyo was a dense mass of ultra-high, ultra-modern skyscrapers, surrounded by what could only be described as the true definition of an urban jungle. Vegetation had exploded across the entire island after the reversal, breaking through concrete, destroying buildings, railway, roads, everything that got in its way. No amount of weed killer had been able to hurt it, and only the efforts of wizards managed to keep it somewhat under control. At least enough that people could survive within and alongside it.
It made sense that Tarakona would send us a kitsune as a guide, considering their natural affinity for this kind of landscape. They were made to be part of it, after all.
“You have a point,” I said. “What do you know about my Operator?”
“Myra,” she said. “Her flight will be landing soon. Don’t worry about her, Baron. Tarakona sent two of his best to protect her during the journey. Now, if you’ll follow me, I’ve got a car waiting off the tarmac. I’ll bring you over to your hotel, and we can get to work.”
She was no-nonsense. I liked that. “Did Tarakona tell you what that work is?”
“My orders are to guide you wherever you need to go and do whatever you ask. What information you share with me is at your discretion.”
I nodded. A professional. I wasn’t sure I had worked with one before. Dannie had been serious about her job, but our relationship had a personal side, too.
“Shika,” Frank said, getting her attention. “I’m Frank Dobson.” He held out a massive hand.
She didn’t take it, folding her hands over her stomach and bowing.
“Welcome to Japan, Frank Dobson,” she said demurely.
“You know, I wanted to tell you how-”
I elbowed him in the side before he finished his sentence.
“What?” he asked.
“Just don’t,” I said.
Shika’s expression was flat, but I got a glimpse of the mirth in her eyes. Frank had been about to make a fool of himself. Maybe I should have let him, but since I had let him come along it was my responsibility to show him the ropes before he hung himself.
“This way,” Shika said, walking ahead of us. Frank’s eyes dropped immediately to her tail, mesmerized by it.
“She’s a ghost,” I whispered when she got a little further ahead. “Not a date.”
“Why can’t she be both?”
“That isn’t how things work. Not at this level. She’s a professional. You have to be, too.”
“Okay, boss. It’s just that she’s so pretty.”
He was like a ten-year-old with his first crush. “If you say so. As big and strong as you are, I don’t doubt that she could drop you without thinking about it. Operatives like her are the reason the Houses need users.”
I may have been exaggerating a little bit. I didn’t want to find out. I was certain Tarakona wouldn’t send me a guide who couldn’t take care of herself.
“Even better,” he said.
“Come on.”
We followed Shika across the tarmac and into a smaller hangar. A trike was waiting inside, a long and narrow enclosure on three wheels that was designed to more easily navigate the streets of the city.
“Are you sure I’m going to fit in that?” Frank asked.
“Mr. Tarakona sent us your measurements,” Shika said. “It will be a cozy fit for you, and I apologize for that. The ride is not long.”
He was lucky the widest part of the trike was in the center. It gave him a good reason to sit right behind Shika without having to argue for it. I slipped into the back seat, hoping he would be able to control his tongue.
He glanced back at me once before we got underway. I could tell he wanted to speak his mind. It was kind of cute in a way. I still shook my head. He made a face and turned back to the front.
“So, Shika,” he said, causing me to lower my head into my hand. “What can you tell us about Tokyo? It’s our first time here.”
He glanced back at me again with a mischievous smile on the corner of his face.
He was being an asshole.
I was starting to like him.
27
The gift
Tokyo was the craziest place I had ever been to.
I had thought Vegas was a bit nuts. New Orleans had been at the top of my charts. This blew them both away.
It wasn’t so much the culture that did it, although the neo-modern, all-things-nature embrace of the people did make me feel like I was way, way out of my element. It was the very existence of it that blew my mind. The fields were strong here. Unbelievably strong. It was like it was emanating from everything around us, causing a constant buzz like a swarm of bees to linger at the edge of my attention. It wasn’t like the Playground, where the fields were powerful but chaotic. It was clean and pure.
The perfect place for Mr. Black to hang out.
There were plants everywhere. Large trees, heavy vines, bushes, shrubs, flowers, you name it. They grew in every crack and crevice, covered almost everything, and would have completely drowned out civilization if not for a small army of users that kept them from overcoming roads and getting inside the buildings. They moved on foot through the undergrowth, hands out, commanding the vines and stems to reverse their endless expansion, their faces grim as though failure meant the end of the nation.
It probably did.
Shika navigated the trike cleanly through the narrow streets, which had once been paved with cement but now seemed to be lined with a dark brown root that had been pressed flat under thousands of wheels and feet and still managed to survive. She weaved in and out of the traffic, both foot and vehicular as if she knew where every obstacle was going to be a few beats before it got there. Maybe she did? She could have been a clairvoyant.
“This place is amazing,” Frank said, having finally pulled his gaze from Shika’s hair and tail and repositioned it out the window. We were moving down a slightly wider street, where vendors had set up hundreds of carts selling all kinds of food and textiles. “I was sure I was never even going to see the sun again, you know, Baron? Not only am I free, I’m living it.”
“Enjoy it as long as you can,” I said. “There are no guarantees in this life.”
“Your training is your guarantee,” Shika said without turning her head. “Learn how to survive, and you will survive.”
“That’s a piece of wisdom there,” Frank said. “I don’t suppose you could give me some tips later? I haven’t had a lot of time for training yet. I survive because I’ve got these big ugly puss bags all over me.”
“There’s nothing ugly about the magic of nature,” Shika said. “Do not reduce yourself to disdain for the gifts you have received.”
“You think this mug is a gift?” Frank said, glancing back at me.
“I believe that all life is a gift, in all of its forms.”
“You’re a ghost,” I said. “You kill people.”
“I kill those who abuse their gifts to hurt others, and those who follow them.”
“Like Mr. Black?” I asked.
“I do not have the context to answer that.”
Because she didn’t know what all of this was about. “You know what I am, don’t you?”
“A rarer creature than me. A Lord of the Dead.”
Lord of the Dead? No one had ever called me that before. “You don’t mind taking orders from me? Everything I do is against nature.”
“That is untrue, Baron. Death is a natural part of life. De
cay, destruction, both are needed for renewal. Forests burn so that they may regrow.”
It was a nice thought, even if I didn’t completely buy it. “What about raising the dead?”
“A child’s game. We do not blame children for their naive indiscretion.”
I was going to say something else, but I lost it after that comment. Was she suggesting that side of my game was bush-league? It had always served me pretty well.
“You’ve met a necromancer before,” I said. It was an educated guess, based on her answers to my questions. Not only had she met one, I was willing to bet they had been family.
“Yes.”
Bingo.
“My grandfather. He heard the death magic when he was eighty-six years old. He was dying from a brain tumor. He survived for three years, learning to harness the magic. At first, I was afraid, but as with all things, the more I understood, the less I feared. He didn’t summon souls for long. He believed the practice was merely a stepping stone to greater power.”
“Did he find the greater power?”
“Yes. He learned the secret of death.”
My interest was piqued. “You mean what’s waiting on the other side?”
“No, Baron. Acceptance.”
The wind blasted from my sails.
“Acceptance?”
“Death is as much a gift as life. Every day that you deny yourself this gift, you deny yourself all others.”
I leaned back in my seat in silence.
A gift to some, maybe.
28
Swish
Shika dropped us at a nondescript facade of tinted glass and dark steel ten minutes later, remaining in the trike as we climbed out.
“Where are you going?” I asked.
“I have to pick up Myra. I will return with her. Tell the front desk your name is Abraham.”
She waved before heading off.
“She is so awesome,” Frank said. “This whole place is awesome.”
“Don’t forget why we’re here,” I said.
“Yeah, I know. I’m not carrying these to brag.” He patted the sides of his coat that were hiding his guns. “I think she likes me. Do you think she likes me?”
“What about that ogre in Vegas?”
“She’s too racist for me.” He rolled his eyes. “There’s nothing worse than reciprocal racism, is there? Hypocrites. No, really, do you think she likes me?”
“No.”
“Why not? You heard what she said about my face.”
“She was being polite.”
“No, she meant it. I can tell.”
“Oh? How?”
“The way her tail swished.”
“You’re kidding me.”
“No, I’m serious, boss. It swishes more when she’s excited. Giving me a compliment made her excited.”
“I think you’re delusional.”
I headed for the door. It parted as we approached though Frank had to duck to get inside.
The lobby was a stark contrast to the world outside. It was cold and modern, no plants to be found anywhere, a bung of hard angles and muted colors. It reminded me of home. Maybe that was the point.
I headed to the front desk. The girl behind it was wearing fake kitsune ears and a false tail. It was made odder by the fact that we had just spent time with the real thing.
“You have a room for Abraham?” I asked.
She slid her hands along a screen behind the desk. She didn’t notice me until she saw whatever came up on the screen. Then she stared at me, recoiling slightly at the sight of my face.
“You’re booked in the Zen Suite, the thirtieth floor. It’s prepaid, no ID required.” She had an accent that reminded me of Jin.
“What room?” I asked.
“No room,” she replied, handing me a gold bracelet. She had to dig through a cabinet behind her to find an ogre-sized one for Frank. “It’s the entire floor.”
“Sweet,” Frank said, smiling. “I’m living it.”
I handed him the bracelet. “Shut up.”
“Your private elevator is behind reception, on the end,” the girl said.
“Thanks.”
I slipped the bracelet over my wrist. It was too big to stay on, so I dropped it in a pocket instead before heading for the elevator.
“I don’t know what the hell Tarakona is thinking, sticking us in a place like this, giving us a room on a high floor.”
Frank shrugged. “Bait?”
“Not if he’s as serious about recovering Sandman as he says.”
We reached the elevator. It opened as soon as I tapped the bracelet on the appropriate spot. We stepped in and were catapulted up thirty stories.
By the time we got there, I knew why Tarakona had done it.
The fields were strong on the ground. They resonated and reverberated off the vegetation.
They were dead, completely dead, above the sixth floor.
Magical energy could be held, and Black could hold more than anyone else. It would still be an impressive feat for him to hurt us up here, assuming he could even find us while we were off the magical grid.
Of course, it meant I was just as powerless. Except not. The mask and dice worked at any height when they decided to work at all, and I still had Frank and the guns. Plus, this was House Red’s territory. No doubt this hotel belonged to one of their shell corporations.
“Check out this view,” Frank said, rushing over to one of the full-length windows that ringed the floor.
The ground was invisible beneath the canopy of trees, but we were high enough to see for miles out across the city and surrounding landscape. I caught sight of something large and colorful circling a fair distance off.
“It’s different,” I agreed.
“You can be a real downer sometimes, pal.”
“I’ve heard that. Black wants to get rid of all of this. You realize that, right?”
“Yeah. You don’t have to tell me. That’s why I’m on your side.”
“Sometimes I feel like you think this is a game.”
His expression changed, becoming stone serious. “No, boss. I don’t. This is how I deal, you know? It’s how I had to learn to handle the pain and fear while Black was using me to figure all of this shit out.”
I suddenly felt like an asshole for mentioning it.
“I’m sorry, Frank.”
The smile jumped back to him. “Nah. Don’t be. This is important to you. I don’t know all the reasons why, but I can see it’s more than just a job.”
I didn’t want it to be, but how could it not? Anything having to do with Black inevitably led me back to Dannie. And to Jin. And in this case, to Prithi and Amos, too.
Stopping him wasn’t a job. Not anymore.
It was a personal vendetta.
29
Frank and beans
Frank was sitting behind a massive order of wings and nachos when the elevator doors parted, and Shika stepped into the suite with Myra. Prithi’s girlfriend looked tired and worried, her eyes puffy and red, her hair a bit of a mess. She was clutching her bag like her life depended on it and trying to put herself as far from the ghost as she could.
“I didn’t sign up to be flown halfway around the fucking world,” she said as I approached them.
“This is for Prithi, remember?” I said.
“I could have done this remote.”
“Remote isn’t safe,” I said. “You have no idea what Frank and-”
“Frank and you?” she said, her voice going up a decibel or three. “Fuck Frank and you. They came for me, too. Did you know that?”
I hadn’t known that. I glanced at Shika, standing calmly between us. She wouldn’t have known either.
“Yeah. They did. Three ghosts. They came in through the windows. How the hell did they know I was there? I was on the damned Blackout.”
The anger dropped instantly, replaced with a worn out fear and subsequent sobbing. I stood there and looked at her. I had known how to comfort Karen. Myr
a? I didn’t move. Neither did Shika.
It took Frank to make things right. He circled us, a tiny chip positioned delicately between huge fingers. He was getting more comfortable in his new skin. He held it out to Myra. “Chip?”
She looked at it, and then at him. Then she started to laugh.
Was it that easy?
She took it from him, calming significantly. “Thanks, Frank.”
“I take it Tarakona took care of the ghosts that attacked you?” I said a few seconds later.
“Mrs. Yellow,” Myra said after swallowing the nacho. “She scared the hell out of me.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t know how they found you. Maybe the Blackout isn’t secure?”
She shook her head. ‘It can’t be that. Aldred would never let that happen. The Houses are strong, but they can’t top his technomancer skills. Nobody can. You have any more of those chips?”
Frank smiled and retreated to the table to grab the platter.
“What are we doing in Tokyo?” Myra asked.
“The next target on the list is here.”
“And you think I’m safe this close to it? I wasn’t before.”
“You weren’t in Red’s territory before. You also weren’t in a magical dead zone before.”
“I thought Japan was covered in field energy?”
“It is, on the ground. This room is safe. There’s only one way in that wouldn’t involve flying.”
“We have guards on the elevator,” Shika said. “And on the roof in case anyone was to try to rappel down.”
“I didn’t see any guards downstairs,” Myra said.
“Precisely.”
“Oh. Right.” She looked at me. “So, what do you need me to do?”
“Same as before. We need intel on the target. As much as we can get.”
“Sure. Can I sleep first?”
“Didn’t you rest on the flight?”
“I can’t sleep on planes.”
“We don’t have time. Sorry, Myra.”
