'You don't look surprised to see me,' said Tomoko.
'Nothing surprises me these days.'
He leaned forward to pull at his pants. His penis that was standing erect a second ago was starting to droop.
'Don't move.'
Hachi raised his hands. 'Anything you want. Can I get you something? You want tea? Money?'
'I just wanted to see what you'd become. You betrayed Jiro's trust.'
'No, Tomoko. We just had different ideas about things. He wanted to base the gang on the old ways, but he went too far back. There's not enough money in gambling and whores, you need to diversify. I give people what they want.'
'You think you know what people want?'
'Hey,' and he smiled, 'if someone wants to see a girl getting fucked by a dog. Something for everybody, Tomoko, doesn't matter if it comes in a needle or goes up someone's ass.'
Hachi jumped to his feet and went for the gun on the coffee table. He didn't get far before the pants around his feet sent him sprawling, the table flipping over. The first bullet cut a channel down his thigh, pumping red instantly. He was twitching a little with two rounds in him, after three he just laid there.
The girl jumped up, saying, 'Now what am I supposed to do? This jerk was paying my rent.'
Outside, Teja waited for Tomoko just where she'd last seen her. She was thinking about the girl. Maybe she'd talk to the police, describe her to Hachi's friends. She should never have let the girl see her, but later in the evening she'd be on that flight, pushing through the atmosphere and leaving all of Earth's shit behind.
36
Bosozoku Boys
The bar used to be a place that didn't do much business during the day. But they'd made some changes, added a new floor, new tables and a chrome bar. A holographic woman in a tiny white dress sang seductively into a mic. There were more people in here than Tomoko would have liked.
Tomoko said, 'Hey, cowboy.'
'Hey,' said Martin. 'I thought I was ordering two beers, then this joker gives me a newspaper.'
'You should let Jessica do the ordering.'
Tomoko watched Teja leaning over the bar to talk to the barman, Martin checking out the shape of her ass before turning away and raising a bottle to his mouth. She was about to ask Teja what she wanted from the bar, when Kameko entered. She walked between the tables and sat on the bar stool next to her. Tomoko only took her eyes from her for a moment to glance around the room, the patrons at the tables, the door Kameko had entered by.
Kameko rested her feet on the stool's footrest, turning to face her. 'We've met several times, Tomoko, but never had the chance to talk.'
Tomoko felt Teja standing behind her, her hand on her shoulder. 'How did you find me?'
'There was somebody at the airfield paid to look out for you. Don't worry, I've been sent to talk to you.'
'I won't hesitate to kill you.'
'You already tried.'
'Peter ordered me to shoot you at the party.'
Tomoko couldn't read any emotion on Kameko's face. Martin had moved closer to see who the woman was, heard them talking in Japanese and went back to his beer and the television on the wall. Jessica played with her hair while she talked to some boys at the end of the bar.
'He regrets that now,' said Kameko. 'It must have been hard for you.'
'You knew he hired me?'
'I knew you would never deliberately harm me.'
Tomoko could see herself in Kameko dark eyes, in the shape of her face. 'It was hard. But you're not my mother.'
'She's part of me. I could never be your mother. I play the part of Kamoko for Peter.'
'The perfect wife and lover.'
'Yes, exactly that.' Kameko's attention went to Teja. 'Who is she?'
Tomoko said, 'This is Teja.'
'You're a simulant.'
Teja moved closer. 'Yes. Like you.'
'Not like me. You're a Class C. There can't be many of you around.'
'Most have been shipped Off World,' said Teja.
'But not you.'
'I was left behind.'
'You should be careful. Simulants have a very high price tag on the black market.'
Teja made a slight shake of her head. 'I don't have to worry. I'm with Tomoko.'
Peter's wife raised her chin towards Martin behind them. 'And you have Martin to protect you as well.'
'Teja doesn't need protection.' Tomoko kept her gaze on Kameko. 'You seem to know quite a lot.'
'I know what I'm told and what I overhear. Peter doesn't see any need to keep secrets from me.'
'He didn't tell you I was coming to his birthday party.'
'He had his reasons,' said Kameko. 'Peter's a very complex man. Unlike Yamaguchi who's very simple. Old-fashioned, if you like.'
Tomoko glanced across the tables to the windows, wondered how many of the cars she could see on the street were full of armed men. 'Why are you here, Kameko? If you've some to cause trouble, it won't end well for you.'
Kameko smirked. 'You've very naughty, Tomoko. Killing Peter's men, kidnapping Fernandez and running away. So long as you have Fernandez, you have the upper hand. I'm here to offer you a deal.'
'From Peter?'
'From Yamaguchi.'
Tomoko watched Kameko swallow, the tip of her tongue touching her upper lip. 'Go on.'
'Your plan of going Off World is ridiculous. It will never work. The tickets have been programmed to accept Fernandez and four others. That's your only trick. You won't get anywhere near the airport.'
Tomoko felt Teja pressing closer, touching her arm. 'I don't need to. There's a military escort for all the passengers, tanks, gunships. They're expecting all kinds of shit to hit the fan when that last ship preps to take off.'
'Yamaguchi is offering you a lot of money and a position in his organisation, with all the perks and benefits you could ever wish for.'
'What about my crew?'
'You and Teja, maybe.'
'And Peter?'
'You leave Peter.'
'No.'
'Yamaguchi has made deals, signed contracts.'
'Fuck his contracts.'
Kameko made a resigned smile. 'Very well, Tomoko.' She slid off the stool. 'It was interesting to meet you, Teja. Goodbye, Tomoko.'
She walked down the aisle between the tables and left by the same doors she'd entered by.
Martin used his beer bottle to indicate the glass doors. 'Who's she? You expecting her?'
Tomoko looked quickly around the room, trying to see into alcoves, passageways where a stream of men might suddenly rush in from.
Martin looked back for a second, checking on Jessica. She was talking to some Japanese guys. Young, pretty girl like her was always going to get attention. He shuffled his weight on the stool, said, 'Now that you've got me here, I take it you've got a plan.'
'You came on your own, Martin. The plan is exactly like I told you. We board the ship and go. I have enough money in an Off World account to get us all started.'
'Yeah, you said. Why didn't you just buy your way out of Malaysia?'
'It's not that easy.'
'How do I know you're not gonna stiff me the moment we get there?'
'Martin, you have to trust me.'
'That's a joke, right?'
'Finish your beer. We have to leave.'
'What about your friends?' He thumbed over his shoulder. 'These fellas.'
Now she was looking straight at them, the four guys talking to Jessica. She was sure she didn't know them. Her hand moved slowly to the Glock.
The guy who'd had his back to her the whole time turned around. She remembered Ichiro from when she was a teenager, though back then he'd shaved his head like a lot of the kids had. He was a lot bigger, had been on the weights and pumped up his shoulders and arms. Still had that crazy look in his eyes.
He grabbed Jessica by the shoulders and spun her around, ducking behind her and making squawking sounds, and all the time she just laughed. Martin got off his stool
and didn't know what to make of it, told Ichiro that playtime was over and to let her go. Teja had turned around to see what was going on.
Tomoko saw a blade and the Glock cleared the holster. Ichiro's eyes big and staring. One of them spun Jennifer in a dance move. Then Ichiro jumped up from a squatting position and brought the edge of a wakizashi down on her arm, cutting through the joint at the elbow, a second slash severing her arm entirely.
It was like the room had turned upside down. People screamed, chairs skittered across the floor, gunfire drowned out the music. Ichiro ducked behind his friends, Tomoko shooting one in an attempt to hit him.
Jessica just stood there until Martin caught her, shouting her name. He didn't seem aware of the bullets making holes in the bar next to him, hands turning red as he tried to stop the blood pouring from her arm.
Tomoko crawled over to him. He was calling Jessica's name over and over. Tomoko looked around, through the smoke, found Teja taking cover under a table, the holograph girl still singing and gyrating.
'No, no, no.' Martin kept his fingers pressed to the wound. He was shouting, saying everything twice, until his voice became so quiet Tomoko could barely make out what he was saying.
She spoke quickly into her phone, trying to stay calm, telling Jiro she needed a pick up with a doctor. Blood pooled on the floor. Martin laid Jessica down and elevated her arm, shouting at Tomoko to hold her while he ran for a bar towel. She could hear Ichi outside, the roar of motorcycle engines.
'We have to get her to the hospital,' said Martin. He folded the towel into a wad and pressed it to the stump of her arm. 'It's okay, baby, it's gonna be okay.' He smoothed her hair back from her forehead, tears in his eyes. 'Where's her fucking arm? Where is it?'
Tomoko said his name, but she knew there was no way she'd be able to get through to him. She felt Jessica trembling.
37
Training Days
She felt sweat running down her back and across her belly, could feel her muscles swell and harden. She'd started training harder ever since Saigo had said he wouldn't teach her certain things, like how to take down an armed opponent.
A knife, a club, those were easy, but how to stop an attacker armed with a sword or a gun were advanced skills he thought for some reason were beyond her. She'd increased her training from four days a week to six, pouring over Saigo's notes and papers, documenting styles of martial arts - kung fu, karate, judo, kendo, wushu, muaythai - some of which he'd made twenty years ago. Economy of movement, he'd told her, the blow should be the fastest and the one that requires the least amount of movement. In a real fight, he'd said, you can't predict what your opponent will do.
She'd spent more time stretching and lifting weights, giving her more flexibility and strength. She'd felt her body change, become leaner.
Only the snap of Tomoko's sleeves when she punched and her body moving through the air made any sound, her footfalls on the tatami a light patter. One movement followed another, imaginary opponents suffering from kicks and punches, blows from elbows and knees, nerve-locking jabs from fingers. And there was no pause, no indication of where one movement finished and another began. She had become like Saigo had said she would, like water, flowing, formless.
She tensed muscles where her body might be vulnerable, twisting to protect vital organs. Her feet were sore and bandaged, her knuckles bruised from training with the wooden posts in the yard. She pivoted on the ball of her toes, leg raised high, straight out, feeling sinew and muscle straining against the effort.
She relaxed then, standing still, bringing her pulse down and controlling her breathing just like Saigo had taught her.
Tomoko saw him watching her from the shadow of the steps leading to the upper floor, a flickering lantern barely illuminating his face. He nodded and lit his pipe.
'Make some tea,' he said.
They sat at the kotatsu and Saigo poured the tea. The generator had stopped working so the low table remained unheated, several oil lamps providing the light as the sky through the windows turned red and then purple.
'Are you working?' asked Saigo.
'No,' she said. She pulled on the front of her shirt, sticking to the sweat on her chest.
'Going out?'
'Meeting Clark.'
'I see.'
She sipped the green tea, wondering how long he'd been watching her in the dōjō downstairs. 'I like him. He's got a car.'
'Some things never change. I didn't get a girlfriend until I bought a scooter. But you can't make out on the back of a scooter, not enough room.'
'You know we're just friends.'
'If he walks into the house again with his shoes on I'll cut off his feet.'
'Why do you want to know what I'm doing tonight?'
'Some people are coming over and it's easier if you're not here.'
'Why?'
'You distract them from talking business and seeing you brings back Mizuguchi's stammer, and I don't want to spend all night t-t-t-talking about you.'
She refilled his cup, making sure she made eye contact. 'Yes, father.'
Cold shower, not like she had a choice when Saigo wouldn't repair or refuel the generator until the morning. In her room, she changed into her favourite pants and a baggy, hooded top.
Tomoko's room was at the very top of the house and she heard voices as she made her way down, saw Jimmy, laughing and talking loudly.
As she passed the door to the living room she saw five men in there. Yukio winked at her. He always gave her good tips at Jimmy's bar.
It was getting dark when she pulled her bicycle out from under the porch and rode down the hill. She never needed to pedal, Tomoko taking the hairpin bends as fast as she dared. She made the rear tyre slide behind her when she came to a stop, leaving a neat skid mark on the flagstones. She chained the bicycle on the corner railing with hundreds of others, never looking back as she made her way across the street. She waved to Clark, seeing his beat-up Nissan, the grinning skull on the hood that he'd painted himself.
She pushed all the papers and fast food wrappers from the passenger seat so she could sit down. She kissed Clark's cheek.
'I thought you said seven?' he said.
'I did. I was talking to my father. Where are we going?'
'I don't know. You wanna go up Beacon Hill?'
'Sure.'
On the way, Clark talked about how he'd made some money by designing tattoos for a guy in Tokyo. It sounded good, he said, like he'd have steady work, so long as he kept his ideas fresh and came up with stuff that would appeal to the Tokyo gangs.
Clark's dad wasn't happy, hoping he'd put more effort into his grades so he could get a job with a big company, maybe get to leave Earth if they ever moved. She liked listening to Clark, sounding out his ideas, grumbling about stuff, although tonight he obviously had something on his mind.
She pushed her hair behind her ear and turned on her seat to look at him, the dim glow from the street lamps only allowing her to make out parts of his face. 'You heard about me and Shinji.'
'No, I haven't.'
'Liar.'
'Well maybe I have. It's nothing to do with me.'
'I know you, Clark. Whenever you're upset with me you have a change of heart about something. Like last month you changed your mind about going to Matsue, then you said you were coming to the house and you didn't. I'm not serious with Shinji.'
'I'm cool with it. I just don't think he's your type.'
'I don't have a type.'
'I just feel he'll let you down.'
She laughed. 'I'd have lost interest in him long before then.'
By the time they made the freeway, Clark and Tomoko were talking about the state of the planet, agreeing and disagreeing, raising their voices in excitement or mock anger. There was a supermarket at the foot of Beacon Hill, and they called in there to buy some food and beverages to take with them. Other teenagers in there doing the same, buying cigarettes and condoms, fireworks and alcohol.
Already
she could see kids in small groups, sat on walls, leaning against barriers, watching cars race up and down the hill. They found a quiet spot, looking at the thousands of city lights while they ate the food and listened to the radio.
'There's people out there,' said Clark. 'Cut off and trapped in the Waste Lands.'
'You really think they're worth saving?' She took a drink of the fruit juice they'd bought, filling her mouth with a sweet dumpling.
'Of course they're worth saving. It's not their fault they got left behind.'
'There's nothing out there, Clark. Just deadbeats and rubble.'
'I've been talking to Yasuo. He said he's joining the army. They've started sending units out into Waste Lands with supplies.'
'Are these the same units that usually don't come back?'
He was making a game of catching peanuts in his mouth. 'Yeah. Imagine going in there and not knowing what you're up against. Seeing how people have changed and developed their own laws.'
'They go crazy too, Clark. They live in department stores.'
'Cool.'
She could just make out the profile of his square chin, the glint of the lens in his glasses. She'd grown up with that face, watched it change.
Something banged against the top of the car, seemed to dance around for a second before someone landed on the hood and pressed a face against the windshield. Ichiro. He made a dramatic show of rolling from the car.
'Don't do anything,' said Tomoko.
But Clark was already out of the car. 'Asshole. You better not have damaged the paintwork.'
'And what if I have?' asked Ichiro.
Tomoko opened the door and stepped out, Ichiro looking like he'd done nothing wrong. The rest of his gang were hanging back. He was making a big show with his arms, maybe a come-on sign to Clark.
'Tomoko, why are you with this loser? You should be with me, on the back of my bike.'
'It's not going to happen, Ichi.'
She held her ground when he moved closer. He'd started growing a beard, but to Tomoko it looked like the fuzz that grows on bad fruit. 'I'm with Clark, so I'm not alone. I don't want to hurt you, Ichi.'
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