Whispers of the Dead (Miraibanashi, #1)

by James Litherland

  Unlike Osaka, the old Tokyo hadn’t been a city. Rather it had been a sprawling mass of urban communities crammed together into a vast metro area. Things hadn’t changed that much under the Batsu. Roshike knew that the heart of the new metropolis was the fortified Gaku complex, the real home of the Batsu regime and purportedly as big as a city itself. Ringing the Gaku was what they called New Tokyo, the rebuilt communities exclusively for the certified citizenry. As with New Osaka, non-citizens weren’t allowed to enter unaccompanied.

  Outside of New Tokyo, deterioration spread in increasing waves. After Roshike had gotten past the farms on his way in, he’d then had to carefully pick his way through a maze of ruins to avoid the heavily patrolled roads the Batsu had cleared for permitted travel. Closer in he’d found scattered communities people had carved out of areas that hadn’t been totally devastated. And crammed right up against the boundary of New Tokyo were small cities like Chofu that fed off the wealth of the nearby citizenry.

  As he wound his way through the crowds, looking for some sign indicating the Kyuu-ban hotel, the place Tash had told him to go, Roshike also kept an eye out for potential trouble. And there were many different kinds to watch out for. In addition to the ubiquitous threat of thieves and robbers, there were the occasional enforcers scanning the crowds. Roshike knew he looked a lot different now with most of his hair chopped off, but he still had to force himself not to flinch at the sight of them. And they were sensitive to that kind of reaction—most would give him extra scrutiny if he acted nervous. He certainly didn’t want that.

  The other major danger was clearly marked at least, and all the more intimidating for it. Roshike was well familiar with the large signs with their big black ‘X’ at certain intersections, indicating the beginning of Batsu territory and the boundary beyond which non-citizens could not go—at least not freely. If they were caught unaccompanied, or without the proper pass, that was bad. No one seemed to know what fate befell those people, since nobody had ever returned to say, but that alone was sufficient to convince everybody it had to be horrible indeed.

  Glancing around, Roshike thought he’d crossed into Chofu city at last, but it was hard to be sure as the boundaries between non-Batsu areas didn’t appear to be marked at all. He certainly wasn’t about to ask anyone where he was though. Eventually he would come across this Kyuu-ban hotel—then he’d know he was in Chofu.

  The stimulation of so many people being so active in such a small area was almost overwhelming, but what he found more subtly disconcerting was the fact that they were all strangers. Of course he hadn’t expected to know anyone here other than Tash, who he barely knew. But he hadn’t realized how disorienting it would be. As populated as Osaka and Kobe were, there always seemed to be familiar faces in the crowds—not people he actually knew, but people he had seen over and over again as if part of the background. Then there were those he had encountered regularly in places he’d visited frequently, hawkers whose stalls he’d bought food from and people living out of the box hotel where he’d kept his bolt hole and the defeated who spent their days slumped beside the same derelict buildings day after day, staring into space. But here all the buildings, the faces, even the way everyone walked and talked formed a completely different canvas. It was exhilarating and exhausting at the same time.

  Suddenly his hand moved by reflex, grabbing a wrist attached to a hand that had reached for one of his belt pouches. It was a small, grubby hand. Roshike looked down and saw a matching grubby little face belonging to a small, thin child that could have been a boy or a girl underneath the grime. The kid had been about to pick his pocket.

  While Roshike couldn’t allow that, considering what he had in some of those pouches, he’d been in the same spot as this little creature himself. Reaching with his free hand into one of the pockets holding buttons with few bits on them, he took one and placed it into the palm of the hand he’d caught. He looked into the child’s rebellious eyes and grinned. “Go on, now. And be glad I’m not turning you over to one of the enforcers.” As if he ever would.

  The squeaky voice that responded sounded surly. “At least they’d feed me.”

  “If I was sure of that...” Roshike sighed. There was more to life than food, but this little person was too young to understand that. “You’re free of them, and I’d advise you to try and stay that way.”

  The moment he let go of the kid’s wrist, the boy or girl darted away into the crowd. Well, at least for today the child would eat and remain free.

  Roshike returned to searching the streets for a sign proclaiming the Kyuu-ban hotel. His hope had been to find the place first, fixing the location in his mind, then explore the surrounding neighborhood. But the sun was sinking fast. Now he hoped to find it and get a room before night fell.

  By going carefully from block to block, Roshike finally discovered the slim three-story structure, the hotel he’d been looking for wedged in tight between a two-story shop on one side and a vacant building on the other. He stood outside the entrance, thinking—Tash had told him only to come here, with no specific instructions beyond that. But Roshike had to stay somewhere tonight, and it was too late to go searching for someplace else. This place looked expensive though.

  Anyway, until he had a screen and could be sure how much he was paying, he’d be better off finding some safe abandoned building to sleep in on a regular basis. Perhaps the one next door would do. But he’d had a long day, and it might be worth the cost to rent a room here—just for the one night. Tomorrow would be time enough to search for somewhere else to stay. He could check back here every day until Tash found a way to make contact.

  It was with a deep sigh Roshike took the plunge and strode through the swinging door into the hotel lobby and saw it would definitely be too expensive. The floor was wood instead of cement and polished clean. There was a reception desk, and standing behind it a young woman wearing a bright pink blouse and a wide smile which sent the clear message that she certainly wouldn’t cheat anyone. She came out and greeted him as he approached.

  “Welcome to the Kyuu-ban, sir. The room you reserved is ready and waiting. If you’ll follow me, I can show you the way.”

  He had to work hard not to gape. She tilted her head to one side and gave him a strange, searching look before turning and heading down a hallway to the left of the desk. Trailing after, Roshike’s weary mind caught up with the situation. That she’d recognized and expected him was obvious—that meant Tash had taken a picture of him with his new haircut somehow. And sent it on ahead, somehow. To prepare this reception.

  Roshike became tense and wary as he followed the young woman down one corridor then another and another until he was sure they’d end up back at the lobby again. Though Tash was a member of the Yes network, she might not be. And for all Roshike knew, this could be a trap of some sort, so he had to be ready to react.

  She led him right to the door of a room there on the first floor, then handed him a key, bowed slightly, and left him standing in the hall. He waited until she’d retreated before unlocking the door and pushing it open. The light was off, so the room was dim, but not so dark he couldn’t see the figure that stood inside, waiting for him. “What are you doing here?” The better question would be how the man knew to expect Roshike here and now. Or had that been why it had taken the young woman so long to bring him to this room? “And how did you get here so fast?”

  Tash grinned. “I’m here because this is where I said I’d find you. As for how I got here before you—” He gestured at the open door and the corridor Roshike still stood in.

  Stepping into the room, Roshike turned on the light so he could see and shut the door behind him to keep their conversation private. He took a good look around and noted the thin but clean carpet, an actual bed, a tiny dresser doubling as a nightstand, and even a connecting bathroom. Not luxurious by Batsu standards, but better than most places he typically stayed. “So?”

  When his attention turned back to Tash standing by the bed,
the man continued what he’d started to say. “I took the Tokaido road and arrived six days ago.”

  “How could you have made it that quickly?”

  “Easy. I just stowed away on one of the enforcers’ transports and rode all the way. Only took half a day.”

  Easy? In its way it was much more impressive than traveling the Tokaido road by foot, with all the perils that entailed. Difficult to pull off, but easy in the sense of riding several hundred kilometers rather than running them as Roshike had. But the exercise had been good for him.

  Tash must have guessed what he was thinking. “I had them reserve a room for you and paid for tonight. I thought you could use a good night’s sleep on a soft mattress for a change.”

  Roshike nodded his thanks. He’d assumed the room was just a safe place for the two to meet. “It’s getting late, and I didn’t want to risk renting a room when I haven’t got a screen yet.” Though he wasn’t worried anymore about being cheated by the young lady out front.

  Tash nodded his understanding. “Yes, that. If you remember, I said I could help you with getting a new one.” He reached inside his jacket and took out two small cases, then held one out in each hand. “I have a nice anon screen for you, one capable of running the kind of code I imagine you use in your line of work—that’s the silver one.”

  “How much?” Roshike should have enough regardless, and he needed that sort of screen, so cost was really irrelevant. But still.

  “Consider it a gift as well, to help you get off to a good start here, if that’s what you want. But I have a job for you, if you’re interested, and that’s what the other one is for. The black one is a shadow screen—it’s yours if you accept the assignment.”

  Roshike whistled long and low. Teresa’s funds had paid for the one he’d needed for that last job of hers, but he’d had to arrange the purchase and had an idea how much that thing must’ve cost Tash. “If this job of yours requires a shadow screen, I’m not sure...” What kind of work would justify such an expense?

  Tash smiled. “Consider it an advance payment for a very difficult and dangerous assignment. And you would most definitely need it.”

  If the room had been a bit larger, Roshike could have paced back and forth as he thought. After the last fiasco of a job, he wasn’t sure he wanted to take those kinds of risks again—at least, he didn’t know if he was ready. Not after what had happened to Teresa. “So what’s the job?” And why him?

  “Basically the same one you were doing for Teresa Ashikiri. But you’d have to go into the Gaku.”

  Roshike stood very still. He wasn’t about to ask how the man knew any of the details of that job, but then he supposed Tash had his sources. And Ashikiri? Roshike had never known Teresa’s last name. It would’ve been rude of her to use it around him—but could it possibly be? From the resources she’d had with her when she ran away from the Batsu, he had guessed her family was wealthier than most citizens, but he’d never imagined she might be related to the governor of New Tokyo.

  Once again Tash could tell what was going on in his head. “You didn’t know. Yes, she was the governor’s daughter—that’s why the Batsu were so set on getting her back. And why I was so impressed you’d managed to keep her away from them for so long.”

  Roshike shook his head. He didn’t doubt what Tash had said, but it made even more nonsense out of that enforcer shooting Teresa. The man had not only lacked any reason to kill her, he should’ve had every incentive to keep her alive—or maybe Roshike really didn’t understand what made the Batsu tick. Even after all he’d learned from the Kyoushi, all he had seen of how the enforcers operated.

  It would take time to digest, the idea that Teresa had been so highly connected, so he set aside all the questions it raised and tried to focus on the job that was being offered. “The server in Osaka was a local one that didn’t connect to the main Gaku-net. So I suppose it’s only inside the complex itself I can find a direct interface to its database. First I’ll have to find a way into the Gaku compound though.”

  It was Tash’s turn to shake his head. “I’ve got a way in already. But you’re right—it’s clear someone has to be physically inside the compound to get direct access to the main servers. How exactly to access the Batsu database is something you’d have to figure out after you’re in.”

  “You say you’ve got a way?” Into the very heart of the Batsu’s power.

  “I got ahold of one of the candidate tickets, and you could use that to walk right in.”

  Roshike doubted it would be that easy. Though again it was an indication of how important the job was, that Tash had gone so far. Some people saved all their lives, even across generations, to be able to afford one of the cards conferring citizenship, or at least the possibility of attaining such status. Others went to great lengths trying to steal one. Those tickets could be used by whoever had possession of one. No identification or proof of purchase necessary. It would be the perfect way for Roshike to enter without attracting any suspicion.

  He could even use his own name, since the Batsu wouldn’t know who he was without a last name to go with it. And they’d never had an opportunity to question Teresa, nor would they get any information about him from the few who really knew. “But I don’t want to become a citizen. Don’t like the idea one bit.” They’d surely try to indoctrinate him into their corrupt system.

  Tash grinned. “You wouldn’t have to. It would be a part you’d be playing to gain access to the Gaku until you found a way to hack into their database.” Then he turned serious. “We don’t know too much about the Batsu power structure, how they function inside those walls. What their weak points are. In addition to the information I hope you can get from those servers, just being inside the Gaku should be an opportunity to learn more about them.”

  Two carrots, the shadow screen and the chance to see into the soul of the Batsu, maybe to discover why they did what they did. And one big risk. “And how do I get out with all that information?”

  “That I can’t tell you. You’ll have to figure it out for yourself.” He paused a moment before continuing. “I’ll understand if you refuse the job. And no hard feelings.”

  Roshike believed that. He could take the silver anon screen and the room for the night, and tomorrow he could start a new life anywhere around this teeming mass of cities encircling New Tokyo. Lots of opportunities awaited, and without posing such great peril.

  He nodded at the black shadow screen. “With a tool like that, it should be possible to do everything I’d need to do to get the job done and get out.”

  Tash tucked the silver screen back into a jacket pocket and handed the black one to Roshike. “The Batsu will give you your own screen, a properly registered one, when you go in as a candidate. I know that much at least.”

  And they’d certainly use it to keep track of him and everything he did. But with the shadow screen he could get around that, seem to be somewhere he wasn’t, pretend to be someone else when he needed to. But he’d have to be very, very careful. “When do I go?” Though a better question would be how long would it take to accomplish this mission. He didn’t like the idea of spending any more time inside that beating heart of the Batsu than necessary.

  “It’ll be a few days before they take a new batch of candidates, so you’ll have time to prepare. You’ll find help once you’re inside, too. I already have two contacts inside the Gaku. It’s difficult to get a message in or out, but it can be done, and if I send one now, they should know to expect you.”

  Roshike nodded. Of course Tash had agents on the inside, but why couldn’t they do this job? And if sending messages in and out of the place was so difficult, how much harder would it be for Roshike getting himself out after the job was done. No doubt it would be challenging. But at least there should be a way he could get the data he got from the Gaku-net to Tash on the outside, if these contacts could send him messages. That would leave leaving as the last problem Roshike would have to deal with.

  “A
nd who are these contacts of yours? How will I know them, or even find them?” With the complex being the size of a city itself, just having to locate the servers would be enough of a job.

  Tash frowned. “I’m sorry, but I’d better not say anything about them. Just in case something goes wrong. You understand.” Though he didn’t sound sure of that. “I don’t doubt your discretion, but the fewer who know about them, the safer they’ll be. I’ll let them make contact with you, how and when it’s prudent from their perspective.”

  “Are you sure you need me at all?”

  Tash nodded. “Neither of them has your specific skill set. And this job is so important, and so big a challenge, I think a team effort is called for. With you to take the lead—just ask them for whatever assistance you need—I believe it can be done.”

  That answered that. And only one question remained. “What exactly do you want me to get from the Gaku-net database?”

  Tash simply shrugged. “Anything you can get. How the net and the screens work, I mean the technical details. How many guards do they have, how many enforcers, and how are they deployed? Whatever you can find about the physical layout and the defenses of the Gaku complex itself. Basically anything that might be useful.”

  Roshike sighed. Basically all the stuff they kept hidden on secure servers for good reason. Finding the right information, even deciding what that was, sounded as if it would be as much work as hacking into the database. At least Tash was leaving it up to Roshike’s discretion. He’d even held out satisfying his own curiosity about the Batsu as part of the job offer.

  Of course, one of the benefits to working with a fellow Kyoushi was trust—he could trust Tash, and Tash knew he could trust Roshike, rely on his judgment. And whoever was Tash’s employer, if he had one, would have to be satisfied with whatever information Roshike got.