He groaned inwardly, but he made sure to keep his expression just as blank as hers. “I understand that it’s quite respectable to be an engineer.” And if Bob thought he meant that as a slight on enforcers, so be it.
Teresa simply nodded. “And as much as you’ll have to pay back to the Batsu, you’ll want a job that will earn you a lot, but enforcers aren’t poorly paid. Though I imagine you’ll have to start out as a guard first. But with the skills you already have, you ought to make enforcer in a few years and be able to begin paying down your debt.”
A few years? Roshike had run rings around the enforcers for years, but then he’d probably be safer among the guards. “Surely even guards get enough to pay for food, clothes, and a room in one of those dormitories.” Though the Batsu were charging him a lot for the screen they’d given him. Even so. Not that he’d be sticking around long enough to have to worry about any of that, but he needed to act as if he were planning on it.
She shook her head. “I understand you owe the Batsu an awful lot, much more than that. Have you not checked the account page on your screen?”
“Owe?” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Bob twitch and gave the enforcer a quick warning glance to keep him at a distance. Maybe the man was still upset about how their fight had ended on that night and held a grudge—he didn’t look like a very forgiving person—but the memory should keep him from doing anything foolish now.
Roshike pulled out his screen and continued to keep a wary eye on the enforcer as he flipped to the account screen for the first time. He saw what he’d just been charged for breakfast and shook his head. Fifty bits, which would feed a person for a week on the outside—if that was the ‘cheap’ choice here, no wonder the lower-level citizens couldn’t afford eating anywhere else. And it got worse.
Looking down the list of charges, he saw it cost two hundreds bits for every night at the dormitory, not to mention another twenty each day for the water each person used. Fifty bits each for the candidate uniforms they’d been provided with and another five every time they were laundered. But that was just the beginning.
Each session here in the study center was down as a five hundred bit charge—a thousand bit charge alone for yesterday’s study with the screen. Then a whopping five thousand for one classroom session with Professor Tadashi, which was almost as much as Hiroshi had said they’d be charged for the registered screens they’d been given. That reminded Roshike—the administrator had said they could easily earn enough to pay back everything that was accruing to their accounts as candidates. That had been a lie.
He looked up at Teresa then. “How much does a guard make then, or even an enforcer, to pay this kind of money?”
He caught a fleeting glimpse of expression, the briefest look in her eyes, something he couldn’t describe—but it was gone before he even had a chance to guess what it might’ve meant. And then she was shaking her head again. “The more recent charges to your account are on top—scroll down to see fees from further back.”
Roshike didn’t care if his confusion showed on his face, but he did what she said. He was appalled by what he saw. There was a long list of citations—Batsu regulations he’d broken. Entry into the headquarters in Osaka without proper permission, violence committed upon guards in the performance of their duties, unauthorized access of a Batsu server, and assault of an enforcer. Which was presumably Bob they were referring to. And all came with fines. Hundreds of thousands of bits altogether.
They’d even charged him for fleeing from their enforcers on multiple occasions, and unauthorized travel to New Tokyo. But the biggest debt of all was the one at the very end of the list, which was the beginning of the charges they had against him, and it was quite a shock. He could remember that day so vividly, too.
Back when he’d been a boy living on the streets of Old Osaka, about seven or eight as best he could figure, he’d darted into one of the stores where Batsu citizens sold goods to the people on the fringes and snatched a bun and ran. A couple of enforcers had chased him and finally cornered him in a dead-end alley. He’d stolen food to survive before. That was the day he’d been caught.
Those two enforcers had tagged him as a thief, and now he knew what that meant. They’d labeled him as a criminal and charged half a million bits to his account, and now the Batsu aimed to collect by making him work it off. Presumably for the rest of his life, since it would likely take that long or longer to pay back such a sum. And clearly they thought he would go along with that.
Of course, their system seemed to work with an awful lot of people—those who came as candidates were willing to sacrifice a lot to enjoy the security of citizenship, including their freedom. Was it worth being enslaved to fill your belly and have a roof over your head? Obviously many thought that way. And he was supposed to be one of them, so he’d have to act accordingly. But he had a better handle now on how Batsu society worked.
There were so many on the outside who had to have similar debts piled up against them—did they only find out if and when they became citizens? Or did the Batsu try to collect from everyone they said owed them? They never had with Roshike, but then he’d never fallen into their clutches, though now he had put himself into their hands. And he’d have to find a way to get out again. But not until he’d completed the job he came to do.
Teresa couldn’t have known what he was thinking, but she must’ve known what he was seeing. “I know it’s a lot, Ro, but the cost of being a criminal is high. And at least the Batsu are offering you the opportunity to make amends.”
Amends? Roshike knew he had a debt he could never repay, but it wasn’t to the Batsu. And the best thing he could do was to help Tash and others stop them by doing the job he’d agreed to take on. Who did the Batsu think they were?
He took a moment to remind himself that they weren’t omniscient. They couldn’t know he was one of the Kyoushi, and there were no charges for violating curfew, so they didn’t know about his nocturnal activities. Or any number of things they’d certainly have charged him with if they’d known.
The enforcers who’d caught him when he was a boy had taken a picture of him and started this account and linked the two. While he hadn’t thought the Gaku-net could recognize him from such an old photo, perhaps it had. Or maybe Teresa had given them a more recent one.
And his assumption that he wouldn’t have been let into the compound if the Batsu had known who he was had been mistaken because he hadn’t understood them. But now he was beginning to.
Roshike nodded then at Teresa. “I’ll have to really apply myself, but I’m confident I can do what I need to do.” He would and he was. Only not in the way he hoped they took that.
She smiled back with blank eyes. “Good.” She turned and walked down the hall and past Bob, who followed her as Roshike watched them go.
When he was sure they were both long gone, he turned back to the little room with a sigh. He’d too much on his mind for studying with the screen, but he’d have to go through the motions. He was committed to keeping up the pretense. And continuing with the job, no matter how difficult or dangerous.
Chapter 11
Problem Professor
Leaving lunch
ROSHIKE WAS STILL shaken from his encounter with Teresa after having had an entire morning to himself and now a leisurely lunch. He’d avoided being curt with his fellow candidates by being silent and withdrawn, and if they wondered about his attitude at least he hadn’t offended them. And it wasn’t like it was a great change from his usual demeanor. The others had all left before him, and he knew that meant he’d be headed for a second seminar with the engineering professor. At least that was what he assumed.
Depositing his tray and stalking out of the cafeteria, he found the fresh air little help for his mood, but his screen did direct him to the same classroom building he’d been sent to the day before yesterday, and he knew he had to achieve some sort of calm before he faced the other students, much less the professor. That Tadashi had watched
Roshike closely, so keeping up a good act would be essential, even if he hardly felt like it at the moment.
He’d made a lot of mistakes in his session with the screen tutor this morning. If the notion hadn’t been completely ridiculous, he would have thought the computer annoyed with him. It wouldn’t be that surprising though, as he’d had to redo quite a few of the lessons. He wondered if the Batsu would add it to his bill.
But if he was having difficulty thinking clearly, it was only to be expected after the several surprises of the morning. That Teresa was still alive, even if she was back with the Batsu—whether in truth or in pretense—was a pleasant revelation, and one that took some of the sting out of his failure that night in Osaka. On the other hand, he’d discovered the Batsu knew far too much about him.
He still had hope he could complete his job for Tash, but he was in a much more precarious situation now. Not only would he have to be more careful how he went about things—doubtless they were keeping a closer eye on him than he had thought—but when they discovered the Gaku-net servers had been hacked, which he assumed they would sooner or later, Roshike would be the obvious suspect. He didn’t know how quickly they would find out either, so it might be best if he fled the compound immediately after accomplishing his mission. Assuming he could, of course.
If he got the information he was after from the Batsu database, he would pass a copy of those files to Seiko before trying to get out of the Gaku. Then it wouldn’t matter so much if he failed to escape the compound. And bolting right away would be rather risky—he might have a better shot at getting away if he took the time to plan it out properly.
Cutting across the grass and through the main entrance into the broad one-story building he’d only been to the once, the day before yesterday, which already seemed a lifetime ago, he finally focused on where he was and what he was doing. He’d have to keep his mind off those troubling thoughts, too, or he wouldn’t be able to handle the pressure of being in the professor’s class. So far the Batsu believed he was here to become a citizen. He couldn’t afford to give them any grounds for suspecting otherwise.
Once again he was arriving early. Though actually he’d been on time the day before—everyone else had been late—so why were his instructions getting him here even earlier? Then he saw that the screen wasn’t sending him to the same classroom as previously, but it was leading him deeper into the building. After this morning’s shock, he was immediately on alert, with his senses attuned to catch any hint of danger as he walked on.
Following the directions down one turning and along a narrow corridor running across the back of a row of classrooms, Roshike passed by a number of closed doors until he came to one standing slightly ajar. There he hesitated for a moment.
Then, berating himself for allowing his nerves to get the better of him, he knocked on the door before pushing it gently inward. As it swung open he saw Professor Tadashi in a chair behind a big desk topped with clutter. The man was wearing another checked shirt today, but this one was gold and purple rather than tan and white, and he was staring at parts and pieces of equipment scattered across the top of his desk. He raised his head swiftly when Roshike appeared in the doorway, though there wasn’t any surprise in the professor’s expression. So it was clear the teacher had been expecting him. It would be up to Tadashi, then, to explain why Roshike had been brought here.
Tadashi sat up before leaning back in his chair to peer at Roshike over folded hands for several seconds. Finally the man spoke. “I wanted us to have the chance to talk privately—” He glanced over Roshike’s shoulder to the still open door and the corridor beyond. If this was a trap, enforcers could be on the way and he could be looking for their arrival, or perhaps he had someone out there listening to their conversation. Or maybe he actually was concerned they shouldn’t be overheard. It didn’t matter which—Roshike wasn’t about to close the door and cut off his only means of a swift exit.
After a moment the man shrugged. “So I asked the Gaku-net to send you to my office early, for a little chat. Feel free to sit down if you’d be more comfortable.” He waved at a small wooden chair.
Roshike shook his head. “It’s only ten minutes or so before class begins—I assume it’s one of your classes for the engineering students I’m ‘early’ for?” At the man’s nod, he continued. “So I’d just as soon stand, if that’s alright with you.” The chair certainly didn’t look comfortable, and he wanted to be able to move quickly if need be.
Wondering why a level-nine instructor wanted a private word with him, Roshike cast his eyes over the room, swiftly taking everything in. The only detail that stood out as strange to him was the man’s screen mixed in with the debris scattered across the top of the desk. An odd place to put it. At least, he amended mentally, there was a screen in among all the parts and pieces of other equipment. When he returned his gaze to the professor, he saw the man’s eyes were crinkled with amusement.
Roshike kept his face blank. “Talk about what, Professor Tadashi?” And he wondered if the screen sitting on the desk was recording this conversation—or was it transmitting their talk to somebody listening on another screen somewhere? If this was a trap, that could be a part of it, hidden there in plain sight. He knew about hiding in plain sight.
“Call me Mark. The other day you had to have seen how casual I am with my students, so don’t be so formal. Even if you will insist on standing there on your feet the entire time.” The man ran his hand through his short, sandy hair and glanced over Roshike’s shoulder again to the hallway behind. Then as his hand dropped back down, he made the sign of the Kyoushi.
Roshike barely blinked. He didn’t even consider flashing the return sign and confirming he was a fellow member of the Yes network, because he had a hard time believing Tadashi could be one of them. The man wasn’t just a Batsu citizen, but one of the elites. ‘Mark’ probably didn’t have any debt.
“You still haven’t said why you want to see me. Mark.” Though he couldn’t see how the man could possibly be Kyoushi, the professor had known how to signal correctly. Somebody must’ve shown him, which meant Roshike shouldn’t be so quick to trust a person just because they knew the right sign, and that brought him back to his doubts about Shin.
For a moment he even wondered again whether Seiko could’ve betrayed them, but he knew her and knew her character from before. But both times he had talked with Shin, their conversations had been brief in the extreme. He didn’t know her at all, really. And if her being Kyoushi made somewhat more sense than this Tadashi having somehow become a member of the Yes network, Roshike now knew that he shouldn’t have accepted her simply because she had made the sign. He’d have to think of some way he could make sure of her.
The teacher nodded. “I just wanted to see if you needed any special help from me. I understand that you’re a little out of your depth here, particularly in my class, so if there’s anything I can do for you...”
Roshike shook his head. “I appreciate your offer, but I think I’m managing.” The man must have learned the Yes network signal somehow, but it was conceivable the Batsu got ahold of that information some other way—it didn’t have to mean a traitor in their midst. “And I can’t say I’m clear on what help you could give me, either. Am I falling short somewhere?” He kept his eyes on the fellow’s face, but in his mind he was seeing the screen sitting on top of the desk. Could the Batsu suspect Roshike of being Kyoushi? Had they laid this trap to try to trick him into admitting who he was and confirming that suspicion? Of course he wouldn’t oblige them.
The professor nodded slightly. “Well, there are a lot of things you might have questions about, and I might have the answers. If there’s anything you’d like to understand better, maybe I could help. But I don’t know what specific challenges you may be facing, or in what particular area you may be lacking.” He cocked his head to the side. “So I’d need you to tell me what kind of help you might want. And then I’d do what I can.”
It certainly sounde
d alright. Whether the man meant help in the superficial sense of Roshike’s engineering studies or in a subtle way speaking as one Kyoushi to another. And if the man were watching his words carefully, it could be because Roshike had never given the return signal. The Batsu wouldn’t be likely to balk at lying outright to trap him. So there was that in the professor’s favor.
Roshike returned the nod. “I admit I’m finding this all a huge challenge.” And let the man take that however he wanted. “But I’m not sure I really need any help. Though it’s early days for me here, and I may find myself struggling at some point.” Just the suspicion on the Batsu’s part, that he might be one of the Yes network, could be a calamity, so he hoped it wasn’t true. But he had to act as if it were.
It was tempting to think this offer of assistance meant the man was one of Tash’s contacts—the professor presumably knew a lot about how the Gaku-net worked—but Tash had said he only had two people on the inside. If this man were one of them, then Shin would have to be an imposter, and that might mean disaster. One way or another, Roshike had to find out the truth. But he wasn’t going to act precipitously. He’d think things through before he made his move. Whatever that turned out to be.
The professor stood with a sigh. “Class will begin soon, and I don’t think you or I should be late—even if the other students will be. But I want you to remember, Roshike, that my door is always open if you decide you need my assistance.”
Roshike nodded. “I’ll keep that in mind.” And then he was backing out of the office and turning to head down the hall back to the main corridor, making his way to the classroom while setting aside all his worries about what had just happened. He still needed to concentrate on the class that was about to start and continue acting as if he wanted to become a Batsu citizen. Now more than ever. He could hear the professor ambling along after him, but then the man could afford to take his time.
Whispers of the Dead (Miraibanashi, #1) Page 13
