Sign of the Dragon (Tatsu Yamada Book 1)

by Niall Teasdale

  ‘I’d like to see the nightlife here. I mean, I’ve been before. A… couple of times. But I figure that a “native guide,” if you like, would let me see it with new eyes.’

  ‘No cameras.’

  ‘Just me.’

  ‘Okay,’ Tatsu said after another couple of seconds. ‘I’ll meet you at the station at seven thirty. We’ll take a conveyor from there.’

  Yamauchi smiled. It looked like a genuine smile, not a reporter’s smile. ‘Great. Where are we going?’

  ‘The Hole in the Wall. It’s about as quintessentially Chiba as it gets. Plenty of gangsters hang out there on a Saturday night, so it even has validity to both our jobs.’

  ‘Sounds great.’

  ‘Say that after you’ve spent a few hours there.’

  ~~~

  ‘There’s a lot of smoke,’ Yamauchi commented as they walked through the ground floor area of The Hole.

  Tatsu gave a small shrug. ‘Legal stuff. The illegal drugs are hidden better. Try not to breathe in around the clouds, you never know what might happen.’

  ‘Huh. I use bright sometimes when I have to meet a deadline.’

  ‘Unsurprising. I, obviously, don’t use any of them.’

  Yamauchi giggled. ‘No, I’d imagine it would be difficult.’

  ‘It’s possible to build a cyborg body that can use drugs, but this one was built for war. Being affected by gases and chemicals would have been a problem.’

  ‘I guess so. Why did they let you keep it after leaving the SDF? I’d have thought something more civilian would have been substituted.’

  Tatsu was silent for a second. ‘I had a sponsor who persuaded them that it would be useful when I transitioned to the police.’

  ‘A sponsor? Mysterious. I suppose it’s classified.’

  ‘Something like that.’ Tatsu pointed. ‘That lot are from the Shiroi gang.’

  Yamauchi looked in the direction of the table Tatsu was indicating. It was surrounded by Caucasians. Most of them looked like thugs. ‘Is that safe? I mean, if there are Funabashi–’

  ‘There’s a kind of truce in The Hole. They know they’ll be kicked out if they cause trouble and this is where they come to relax. The tourists think it’s oh so dangerous here. Part of the charm. The truth is that you’re probably safer here than any other part of Chiba.’

  ‘Tourists. Like me.’

  Tatsu grinned. ‘Just like you.’

  Yamauchi’s nose wrinkled. ‘Do you think this outfit fits in?’ The outfit in question was a one-piece bodysuit in white with pale-blue trim. It was made of semi-translucent bioplastic and more or less shrink-wrapped to her body, except for the right arm and left leg which were missing. A two-way zip ran from the collar at the back to about fifteen centimetres above her crotch at the front. She was also wearing high-heeled Mary Janes with a couple of centimetres of platform, the left in blue to match the trim of the suit, the right in white. She was actually quite covered up and the white plastic did not show much through it, but it was a bit more explicitly erotic than her usual choice of dress.

  ‘It works,’ Tatsu replied. ‘To think those suits were originally designed for disease prevention.’

  ‘That was years ago. People freaked out about social distancing back then. Full-body condoms were the way to go. Then we got PIN and now it’s just a kinky line of fashion.’

  ‘Hm. People rely too much on PIN, but I suppose you’re right. We’ll get some drinks and head upstairs. The further up you go, the more “authentic” the experience.’

  ‘Why did you quite obviously put “authentic” in quotation marks?’

  ‘Because there’s no such thing as an authentic Chiba experience. Chiba is what it is, like anywhere else. Are you saying Tokyo is based entirely around karaoke bars and sushi?’

  ‘Of course not!’

  ‘Well, that’s what most refugees think it is. That and people who think they’re spongers. Most Japanese think Chiba is a den of depravity, crime, and violence. Upstairs is where you get the first two of those.’

  ~~~

  ‘That table’s Funabashi,’ Tatsu said. ‘Over there is the Císhàn tong. I think the group between them is up from Kasaoka. They’re from a kkangpae, a Korean street gang.’

  ‘So, they’re tourists too?’ Yamauchi asked. Pursing her lips, she sucked some sort of pink cocktail through a straw. Tatsu had no idea what it was and did not really want to know.

  ‘Depends who you ask. They tend to act like tourists, so I suppose they are. Then again, so do the mafia and tong groups. They all tend to let themselves go more than the other refugees while they’re here.’

  ‘Work hard, play hard?’

  ‘Something like that. Something they picked up from pre-war Japanese culture, I think.’

  Yamauchi nodded. ‘There was something of a cultural imperative to work until you couldn’t, and then go out and drink to recover.’

  ‘I think it was to foster the delusion that you actually had a social life. Large-scale adoption of Kannon has kind of put an end to that kind of thing.’

  Yamauchi rolled her eyes. ‘Tell me about it. Don’t get me wrong, Kannon is a great implant operating system, but it nags. Exercise more, drink less. Don’t take drugs. Get more sleep. Get more sleep! I swear Izanami developed the thing to replace everyone’s mother. Uh, you don’t use Kannon, do you?’

  ‘Not much use to a cyborg. The health monitoring functions are useless without a human body. I run a Kannon-compliant cyborg OS, so I do get nagged about lack of sleep. Fairly often, actually.’

  ‘Don’t we all. Um, does that dancer know you?’

  ‘She should do. We’ve been sleeping together since last month.’

  ‘Oh.’

  Sachiko was dancing in a cage on the table with the Koreans around it. She was, as usual, naked aside from some heels. She would occasionally look their way and smile, though exactly what the smile meant, Tatsu was not sure. It did not seem to be simply being happy to see her sometime lover in the club. It also seemed like the dancer was unconcerned about Tatsu being with another woman.

  ‘She’s good,’ Yamauchi said. ‘I mean, I’m not sure what she’s doing is really dancing, but what she’s doing is… good.’

  ‘I’m not sure that what anyone, staff or customer, does in a place like this is dancing,’ Tatsu replied.

  ‘That may be a fair point. How did she end up in Chiba?’

  ‘Her story to tell. It’s not an entirely uncommon one. Japanese usually have one of two reasons for ending up here. Either they don’t like Japanese society, or Japanese society doesn’t like them.’

  ‘I’m going to guess she falls into the latter category. I don’t think I could make it here if I had to live here.’

  ‘That’s what most people say, until they don’t have a choice.’ Tatsu frowned, though Yamauchi was looking at Sachiko and missed it. ‘What’s she doing here?’

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘Nothing. I just recognised someone I didn’t expect to see here.’ The facial comparison was coming back as a ninety-seven percent hit, though the hair was markedly different from Kaede Shiratori’s usual look and the outfit was not what Tatsu expected to see on the girl. Kaede was dressed for the club in a lot of red. The dress was extremely short and largely transparent; irregular patches of more solid colour meant it was teasing rather than exposing. It had a collar connected to the bodice by a metal ring, which meant there was almost no back to it. The hair had to be a wig: her short, black hair was replaced by long, voluminous twin pigtails with long bangs, all in scarlet. She looked a little older than usual, but it was clearly still Kaede. She seemed to be paying a lot of attention to the Funabashi gang from far enough away that none of them had noticed her. Did her mother have her spying? It seemed unlikely, but there she was, spying.

  ‘Anyone interesting?’ Yamauchi asked.

  ‘Not to you. Just another tourist.’

  ~~~

  ‘If you don’t mind me asking,’ Yamauchi asked, �
��how old are you?’

  ‘Eighteen,’ Sachiko replied. She had joined them after being replaced in the cage by a blonde Russian girl when her shift ended. ‘Almost nineteen.’

  ‘And you’re dating a woman almost twenty years older?’

  ‘First, I don’t date men anymore. Second, I don’t think age really matters. Third, we aren’t dating. We fuck, plain and simple. Fourth… Actually, age does matter. People my age don’t have the kind of experience older people have. And it’s not like Tatsu ages. Fifth, I can pick anyone to be my girlfriend and I picked her. Sixth… Can’t think of a sixth. How old are you?’

  ‘She’s twenty-nine,’ Tatsu said before Yamauchi could hedge.

  ‘A decade older than me. Might be old enough.’

  Yamauchi blushed. ‘I’ve learned a few things over the years.’

  ‘I should hope so.’ Sachiko gave the reporter a somewhat lascivious smile and the blush deepened.

  ‘Here’s something that I’ve been wondering all week,’ Tatsu said. Both women looked at her, waiting for the revelation. ‘Why does Haruka Yamauchi wear contact lenses?’

  ‘She does?!’ Sachiko squeaked, immediately leaning forward to examine Yamauchi’s eyes.

  Yamauchi looked away, frowning. ‘I’m near-sighted. I hate it when people find out.’

  ‘Then get your eyes fixed,’ Tatsu suggested.

  ‘I… don’t want to.’

  ‘That makes no sense,’ Sachiko stated flatly.

  ‘There’s a small chance that it could go wrong. My eyes are part of my looks. My looks are part of my job. I can wear contacts or risk my entire reason for existing.’

  ‘The chances of anything bad happening aren’t small,’ Tatsu said, ‘they’re basically zero.’

  ‘Basically zero isn’t zero.’

  ‘Haruka Yamauchi is paranoid,’ Sachiko said. ‘Wow.’

  Yamauchi flashed her a scowl. ‘I sort of get the feeling that you watch my show.’

  ‘Occasionally. If I hear there’s a subject I’m interested in, I’ll stream it. Never seen you wearing anything like that on it. You could raise your viewer figures a lot if you did.’

  Irritation at having her secret uncovered apparently fizzling, Yamauchi waved a hand. ‘We’d win some, we’d lose some. Testing already suggests I’m bordering on losing some of the demographic because I wear short skirts.’ She looked at Tatsu. ‘That’s why I have to wear hose in the middle of summer. The demographic for Deep Dive is pretty conservative. A case could be made that we’d get better figures if I dressed like a geisha. With all the makeup.’

  ‘That… might also be worth seeing.’

  ‘No chance. Anyway, you’re one to talk. Could you be wearing less?’

  Sachiko was wearing a mesh bodystocking with a microskirt and thigh-high boots over it. It was not concealing much. ‘Yes.’ She waved a hand at the tables with their cages. ‘You’ve seen me in less.’

  ‘You should see her in her maid costume,’ Tatsu said. ‘Made it herself. Sachiko is a talented girl in many ways.’

  30th August.

  ‘T-t-talented,’ Yamauchi said. ‘Yes!’ She had got fairly drunk on pink cocktails and suggested, drunkenly, that they go somewhere and bang. Her words. She was now strapped to a cross in the dungeon room in the Dream Castle with Tatsu watching Sachiko work on her. They had been at it for thirty minutes and the reporter had come four times already. Make that five.

  ‘Your turn,’ Sachiko said, stepping away from her victim.

  Tatsu got to her feet and started over. ‘My pleasure.’

  ‘You two are t-trying to k-kill me,’ Yamauchi said.

  ‘If I wanted to kill you, I’d use a gun.’ Tatsu slid a couple of fingers into Yamauchi and got a groan out of her. ‘You wanted the full Chiba experience. Have to take the rough with the smooth.’

  ‘I’ll t-take whatever you can d-dish out.’

  Tatsu’s smile was a little malicious. ‘Challenge accepted.’

  ~~~

  Alert! Sergeant Yamada, attend the attached address. Probable homicide linked to current case, number attached. Victim identified as Yong Pan of same address. Sergeant Nakano has been notified.

  ‘Shit,’ Tatsu said aloud. It was six fifteen in the morning and she had settled down to sleep at three. Still, she sent the acknowledgement and then tried to crawl out from between Yamauchi and Sachiko without waking them. Fat chance.

  ‘You’re going?’ Yamauchi asked.

  ‘I got a call.’

  ‘Another murder?’

  Tatsu considered her options for a second and concluded that the reporter would hear soon enough anyway. ‘Yong Pan.’

  ‘What? I’m coming–’

  ‘No, you’re staying here. I won’t let you onto the scene this time either.’

  ‘Oh. Right. I guess.’

  ‘I’m going to grab a quick shower and then head over there. Three hours’ sleep is not enough.’ The last sentence came out as a groan, but she headed for the small bathroom anyway.

  Behind her there was the sound of someone moving on the bed. Then, ‘Sachiko? What are you–’ That was followed by a long groan and then, ‘I need to get some s-sleep.’

  ‘Sleep when you’re dead,’ Sachiko replied.

  Tatsu steeled herself and continued into the shower. Sometimes, being a cop could really suck.

  ~~~

  ‘Okay, this is a serious break in pattern,’ Nakano said. ‘What does a Chinese community leader have to do with the Funabashi gang?’

  ‘Nothing,’ Tatsu replied. ‘Not a single thing.’

  Yong Pan had died in pain in his own bed. His body had multiple cuts on it, most of them shallow but probably painful. His abdomen had been opened up using two far deeper cuts forming an X. The bedroom stank of human waste and blood. That had not been the killing stroke, however. He had not been beheaded, but there was a long wound bisecting his throat. There was a lot of blood – the mattress was soaked in it – but death would likely be put down to asphyxiation; he had choked to death on his own blood rather than dying of blood loss.

  ‘He’s been pretty vocal about the need to calm things down,’ Tatsu said. ‘My guess is that whoever did this, they wanted him to shut up about peace.’

  ‘Maybe when forensics have worked on the card, we’ll know what the killer was thinking.’ The usual business card had been left at the scene, but it was as soaked and red as the mattress. Whatever was written on it, it was illegible.

  ‘Maybe. Damn. This is going to really heat things up around here. The tongs didn’t exactly like Pan, but they won’t like him being executed either.’

  ‘War?’ Nakano asked. ‘You think that’s what the killer is after? Because that’s what I think they’re after.’

  ‘I think they want the Funabashi gang ended. War is one way to achieve that, given their weakened state. This might be enough to tip things over the edge…’

  ‘What else?’

  ‘I’m going to start keeping an eye on Vasilev. He could hold the gang together, even if he’s no Anastas Zima. And if he goes, they might just implode. I think Vasilev might be next and this might be the best chance we have of catching the killer.’

  ‘Do you need help?’

  Tatsu waved the question away. ‘Our mysterious killer only seems to strike at night. I can do night shifts for a while. Though my girlfriend isn’t going to like it.’

  Nakano raised an eyebrow. ‘You have a girlfriend?’

  ‘Apparently. I thought we were just fuck buddies, but apparently I was wrong.’

  ~~~

  The call came through at quarter past eleven, at night. Tatsu had been up all day on three hours’ sleep and wanted to be in bed, and a call from Dexter Burrell did not seem likely to be important, but…

  ‘This had better be good, Dex,’ Tatsu said when the connection went through.

  ‘Need your expertise to verify a story,’ Burrell replied. ‘Maybe this helps with your case too.’

  Tatsu sighed. �
��What do you have?’

  ‘A guy came to me claiming he had evidence that Rasputin is invading.’

  ‘Drunk or junky?’

  ‘You’ve got a really cynical attitude, you know that, Yamada?’

  ‘I tend to find my cynicism isn’t sufficient.’

  ‘Well… guy stank of stale beer, but he had video. Transferring it now. You’ve seen the kind of bot Rasputin deploys. I figure you can verify.’

  Tatsu began streaming the short clip of video before it was finished moving over the internet. It showed a dark alley and the geotag data indicated that this was the general area of the mass murder in the apartment block on Friday. It was grainy, clearly taken using human eyes and recorded on an implant, but it showed three things which were clearly robots and a fourth which might have been a human in combat armour or a gynoid.

  ‘It’s not Rasputin,’ Tatsu said immediately.

  ‘How can you tell after two seconds?’ Burrell asked.

  ‘Rasputin despises humans. He doesn’t build anything on a humanoid skeleton.’

  ‘Not even things designed to infiltrate–’

  ‘He doesn’t do infiltration. He does subjugation and death.’ Tatsu watched the floating robots working with the humanoid. Flying on four fans. Maybe an indication of a weapon mounted to fire through the front. They were maybe half a metre long, a bit less in their width. ‘The flyers aren’t his style either. When he builds something that flies, it’s more like a helicopter gunship or a jet fighter. For fighting in an urban environment, he prefers things built on six or eight legs with a lot of weapons mounted.’

  ‘Okay,’ Burrell said, ‘but this is right beside that mass shooting from Friday, right? This is probably your killer. Right?’

  ‘I can neither confirm nor deny. Video quality is too low, and the humanoid is either a gynoid or wearing a helmet. No visible features.’

  ‘But there is a sword visible. That humanoid has a sword, Yamada.’

  ‘Certainly what looks like a sword. A katana, probably. It makes this possibly our killer. A woman. We can maybe get a height and a weight range…’ The video ended as the humanoid figure seemed to vanish, melding into the shadows. ‘Possibly adaptive camouflage. Pretty advanced armour. I can’t say this is the killer, Dex, but if you want to run with the story, do it. I can definitely say that Rasputin isn’t involved. No invasion scenario here.’