Shadowrun: Steel Rain Part 23

The suggestion seems to afflict Sashi-san more than anything thus far said or hinted at. She looks to Machiko with an expression like agony. She rises. She draws near a step at a time, reaching out, lifting her hands to Machiko's cheeks. For a moment, she gazes steadily into Machiko's eyes, and the air is full of the fragrant garden of her perfume, and the suffering inside her sloping almond eyes is like a gray pall of pain spreading to the horizon.

Then, she leans her head to Machiko's shoulder, standing perfectly still, all but her fingers. Her long slender fingers quiver like autumn leaves against Machiko's cheeks. "You feel betrayed," Sashi-san says at a whisper. "You feel only your own pain and it is right that you should. But, for one moment, imagine mine. Imagine all that I have missed, all that will never be again. Things too precious, forever lost. I beg you, please, to find something for me in your heart, something more than hatred and scorn."

It is difficult to decide how to react, to know what is right or wrong or merely humane. There is so much pain, so much unknown, uncertain. Machiko is not sure what she feels, except that it hurts. It hurts very deeply. "I do not know you," she says. "I do not know the first thing about you. I do not even know where you live, in the Tir or anywhere."

"For many years," Sashi-san whispers, "I have lived in dreams. Immersed in dreams. Surrounded by dreams. But to you I have always been near. I have watched over you from the beginning. Often, in the night, I have thought, perhaps only hoped, that you could feel my hand, sense my presence. Perhaps I am a fool."

The words strive for an intimacy Machiko is not ready to face. She gropes for some reply, uselessly.

"So many things I could tell you," Sashi-san murmurs. "So many things come to my mind. When you were just a child, three norms attacked you in the street. And you were ashamed. For although you fought them off, you went home bleeding from the nose. You cried that night to Chizu-san, she you called mother, you cried that Kuroda-kai would not have allowed the bullies to hurt him. You wanted so desperately to be like him. How can I make you understand what this meant for me? Did you not think it remarkable when, a few weeks later, a dojo run by an elf, a master in the katana, opened just a block from where you lived? Did you not imagine that perhaps some unseen hand was at work?"

The incident was forgotten till this moment. The attack in the street. The surprise of the new dojo. All lost in time.

It is enough of a shock to force the words from Machiko's lips. "This is all very hard. I am very confused. My spirit is in turmoil. There is so much I do not know." And then, her heart compels her to add, "I do not mean to make you suffer."

"You are very strong," Sashi-san replies. "I am trying to act worthy of your respect. I do not have your warrior's discipline."

"I do not understand how you could wait so long," Machiko says. "Why do you come to me only now? How could Honjowara-sama-?"

Sashi-san gently takes her hands. "Please ... sit with me." It is not much to ask. They move to the small dais beside the bed of stones and kneel. There is just enough room for the two of them on the round cushion. Sashi-san spends some moments brushing at her eyes, perhaps strengthening her composure.

"We could not tell you," Sashi-san says. "A child could not bear such news. The foundations of your world would have been crushed. You would have been torn with resentment, filled with bile."

"It is some years since I was a child."

"We have kept the truth too long. I see that now. Forgive me. Forgive both of us. Try to understand."

"What is there to understand?"

Again, Sashi-san, my features grow pained. "Your father can never truly be your father," she says. "In rare moments of privacy, perhaps. The world will not otherwise allow it. Okido-san dreams of a world in which racial hatred will finally glimmer and die, like the fading of a flame. But it is all he can do to hold his part of the world together. He has managed to bring together the clans of Nagato Combine because he is respected, because he leads the clans to honor, to the path of their ancestors. The traditional peoples of the clans accept his ideals and program regarding metahumans because of the great respect he has earned. Because in many ways he seems a traditionalist himself. He honors traditional ways. He has a traditional wife and children, all of them norms. His leading advisors are norms. Yes, he meets with a lady believed to come from the Tir, and perhaps she is somewhat more than a secret business contact, but this lady's influence, if any, is negligible and easily dismissed."

"Is it so easily dismissed?" Machiko asks.

Sashi-san lowers her face, brushes at her eyes. "It is as it must be. I cannot be his wife just as you cannot be his daughter. It would destroy all that he has built."

"Because we are elves."

"It is one thing to take an elf for a lover, another to have an elf for a wife, and another to engender an elf child. He would prove himself not merely a lover of elves but perhaps even an elf himself."

Honjowara-sama an elf? "That is not possible. Any mage-"

Gently, Sashi-san shakes her head. "Okido-san was born in the last year of the last century. Even to a mage, there is little difference between a true norm and one who carries the elf genes, one who is an elf but was born too soon for the elven qualities to find expression. Yes, the right mage might detect a difference, might see that Okido-san is purely a norm, but the point could never be prove absolutely. And a mere shadow of suspicion would bring everything to ruin. Surely you can see this."

Machiko, at this point, is unsure what she can and cannot see. Her thoughts are in as much turmoil as her heart. "And what of Kuroda-sensei? Why did he leave when Honjowara-sama called for you? Does he know the truth?"

"Kuroda-san is my brother. He came to Okido-san first as an emissary. For a time, he served as a spy. In time, he came to accept Okido-san's ideals as his own."

It is merely another shock atop other shocking revelations. "And are you here as a spy?"

Faintly, Sashi-san shakes her head. "I am here because my love and my daughter are in need, and you are in need of information I possess."

"What information?"

Sashi-san looks to Machiko with an expression of compa.s.sion and concern, and says, "It begins with your surrogate mother, Chizu-san."

"Yes?"

"As a young woman, she scored a five-plus on the Wachs-Chandler test. You know this, do you not?"

"Yes?" In fact, Machiko has known this for years. It was no secret. The Wachs-Chandler "test," really a series of examinations, was an early attempt by certain corps to evaluate the magical potential of employees and family members. It is a subject her adoptive mother has occasionally addressed with amus.e.m.e.nt. Her score of five-plus supposedly indicated that she has little magical potential herself, but could perhaps pa.s.s the ability to any children she might have. "What significance does this have?"

"Consider your own abilities," Sashi-san says softly. "Consider what would be required for any exchange of unborn to be equitable."

Machiko hesitates. What Sashi-san suggests is clear, but it does not seem possible. "My parents were desperate to have children. They would not have given up a natural child."

"After Chizu-san's third miscarriage, both your surrogate parents were keenly aware of the extraordinary measures Nagato Corporation, through its medical plan, was taking on their behalf, in the effort to give them children. When they were offered the chance to partic.i.p.ate in the program of exchange, they felt an obligation, a duty. They felt they could not refuse."

Machiko shakes her head. "I do not understand. With all the difficulties my mother has had with pregnancy, why would anyone choose her?"

"Because of Chizu-san's latent talent. Because advances in the medical arts made it seem likely that Chizu-san's next pregnancy could be aided to term successfully. And because of obligation. Others were approached, but they declined."

"So you are telling me that my parents did not choose to have me for a child? That they felt obliged?"

"Is there anyone whose motives for having a child are not complex? Please listen, try to understand. Your surrogate parents felt honored as well as obliged. They were perhaps horrified at the prospect of giving up their natural child. They were also proud of the honor offered to them. And when you were born, born of Chizu-san's own body, they felt love and joy. Do not ever underestimate how very much this means, that you emerged from Chizu-san womb. That you lived within her, developed from a small seed within her. Whatever her motives for consenting to the exchange, in her mind you became her natural child long before you were born."

All this talk of Chizu-san reaches deeply into Machiko's spirit, reaches her heart. It smoothes over anger and stirs other thoughts, other feelings. "How could you know all this?" she asks. "How could you know so much of what my parents felt?"

"I have always been near," Sashi-san says. "And I have walked a similar path. Chizu-san's path."

"How . . . ? How is that possible?"

Sashi-san says, "The embryo Chizu-san surrendered became my child. My adopted child, you might say. And yet my natural child. A child I nurtured, a child to whom I gave life. It is this child that you seek."

Machiko shakes her head. "I seek no child."

"Like you, he is no longer a child." Sashi-san smiles sadly. "I named him Liam. The name is said by some to come from the French, meaning to tie or bind. I feel a very strong connection to Chizu-san, though we have never met. That is why I chose the name. I also saw him as a bridge between norm and meta, all that Okido-san would like to bind together. That is another reason I chose the name."

This minor revelation speaks subtly, not about Liam or programs of exchange, but about the woman speaking the words, her nature, her beliefs. Machiko cannot help feeling affected, yet she says, softly, "Why do you say that I seek Liam?"

"Because he is the one." Pain rises clearly in Sashi-san's eyes. She brushes at the tears, but seems unable to quiet the pain. "You must please try to understand, Machiko. Life can be very hard for a norm in Tir Tairngire. We are mostly elves and many hold prejudice against any who are not elves. Liam has suffered much, perhaps in ways you could understand only with great difficulty. You have always drawn strength from your warrior Ways and the vast extended family of Nagato Combine. Liam had only me and his hermetic texts. His thaumaturgical studies seemed only to add to his feelings of isolation. He found answers in these studies for the prejudices of others. He came to believe that the root cause for his suffering was not mere racism, but the harm that norms for so many years have been doing to the earth. That he was seen not simply as a norm, but as a representative of the race that has ravaged the environment. As one of the great defilers. By the time he reached the age of majority he became quite fanatical in this belief. It has guided him ever since."

"How has it guided him? Toward what goal?"

"The white octagram is his symbol, Machiko. To him, it represents death and rebirth. Liam believes that in order for the earth to be reborn, the great defilers must die. All norms, all metas who serve norms or have relationships with norms."

"Would this not include most of the earth's population?" Faintly, Sashi-san nods. "He uses the name Gamma." Machiko draws a deep breath. The garden now seems very silent and still. "Are you aware that Gamma is believed to be the name of a former member of Alamos 20K? That Gamma is reputed to be an anti-meta terrorist?"

Faintly, Sashi-san nods her head, and once more the pain in her eyes swells like agony. "Yes," she whispers. "Yes, I know. Liam resents elves for what he suffered as a child. But he blames everyone."

"Does he also blame Nagato Combine?"

"Of course," Sashi-san says. "Liam knows the truth of his origin. And he knows of my relations with Nagato Combine. And he is not so great a fool as to imagine that a coincidence." Sashi-san pauses, brushing at her eyes, then seems to exert herself to say, "The persons you detained, members of White Octagon, they may be Liam's p.a.w.ns. Mere tools of his mystic formulae. I say this because they do not seem to understand as small a thing as the significance of the name he uses."

"The name Gamma has some special significance?"

"It is not drawn from physics. It derives, I believe, from the gammadion, an ancient mystic symbol resembling a swastika. It represents the solstices and equinoxes, the four cardinal directions, the four basic elements, and the four divine guardians of the world."

Machiko is unsure whether she herself understands the importance of this. "Do you mean that Gamma, Liam, views himself as a divine guardian?"

"A guardian, certainly. An avenger."

"Where might we find him?"

"Wherever the earth is most grievously wounded. That is where he will be."

36.

By noon, Machiko stands in the transparex-paneled office beside the Nagato Operations Center on Sub-level B of Nagato Tower. She and Colonel Satomi and a handful of Security Service executives watch as a digital records a.n.a.lyst conducts a computer-augmented evaluation.

The first set of digipics comes from a chip-carrier provided by Sashi-san; the second set from video records of the mage conducting the attack at the Chrysanthemum Palace Hotel.

"It is highly likely," the a.n.a.lyst concludes, "that the individual from Machiko-san's digipics, identified as Gamma, is the mage who launched the attack."

"Numerically, how certain is this?" asks Colonel Satomi. "The evaluation software a.s.signs an eighty-seven likelihood. I prefer a more generalized rating of between eighty and ninety percent certainly."

Machiko asks, "You are able to make this determination even though the security cam record from the hotel does not show the mage's face?"

The a.n.a.lyst bows, and says, "We use very sophisticated algorithms to conduct comparative evaluations, Machiko-san. These algorithms take into account a variety of biodynamic factors such as anatomical structure and its influence on physical motion. A person's face may be easily modified, or, as in this case, largely concealed. How a person walks, however, is not so easily disguised. An a.n.a.lysis of this type is not as precise as one might obtain from genetics, or even fingerprints, but it is generally able to provide a reliable indication. It would perhaps be more precise to say that the mage from the hotel record moves in a manner highly consistent with the individual, called Gamma, in the digipics you have provided."

"It appears then that we have confirmation that Gamma did indeed execute the hotel attack," says Colonel Satomi, turning to Machiko. "Where did you obtain these digipics of Gamma?"

"Unfortunately," Machiko replies, "I am prevented from divulging that information."

Colonel Satomi appears briefly surprised, but does not pursue the point. He would naturally a.s.sume that since Machiko reports only to the Chairman of Nagato Combine she must have been instructed by the Chairman to keep her source private. In this particular case, Machiko encourages that a.s.sumption because she cannot imagine Honjowara-sama ever desiring the truth be made plain.

The shocks of her morning with Sashi-san reverberate still through her insides. She feels emotionally traumatized, as though the fabric of her world has been rent, her most basic a.s.sumptions torn away.

Is Sashi-san truly her genetic mother? Could her true genetic father be not an elf, but a norm, the Chairman of Nagato Combine? Is it even conceivable that her own surrogate parents, her true parents, could be the genetic parents of Gamma? And the program of exchange-she can barely formulate a question-how could such a thing exist? It boggles the mind. It challenges not merely her spirit but her very capacity for understanding.

Intellectually, she knows she must accept all this as true, that she has Honjowara-sama's a.s.surance that Sashi would speak only truth, but emotionally the adjustment has not even begun. The truths Sashi has spoken go so far beyond anything previously known that Machiko feels only awe and amazement and an acute sense of incredulity. She must have time to sort it all out, to consider the implications for her life, her relations with her parents, and with Sashi-san, and with Honjowara-sama himself.

But now there is no time.

Before the noon hour is done, an armed SDF courier arrives with the data-storage modules from the SDF's pair of twin-engine Mistral sensor aircraft. At Machiko's request, these aircraft have completed over-flights of the two regions in the New York-New Jersey megaplex, where, as Sashi-san said, "the earth is most grievously wounded." The first region is a portion of the Newark sprawl known as Sector 13, said to be the result of some ma.s.sive metaphysical catastrophe. The second region is located along Long Island's northern sh.o.r.eline, a portion known as the Slag Heap, a toxic waste dump further poisoned shortly after the Awakening by the crash of a military transport carrying an eclectic mixture of toxic materials.

Security Service a.n.a.lysts upload data from the Mistral modules to the Security Service security mainframe. They soon project a detailed map on a wall-sized display screen. Color-coded indicators appear on the screen to identify the presence and location of sources of heat and light radiation.

"These are from artificial sources?" Colonel Satomi asks.

The a.n.a.lysts confirm it.

Both of the toxic regions appear to be spa.r.s.ely inhabited. That is not especially surprising because the numbers of poor inhabiting the plex are legion. Rarely does a week pa.s.s without a story in the media about some SINless indigent found dead among the waste containers, or in the tunnels or pa.s.sage of some abandoned property. Stories that would rouse even the most granite of hearts to compa.s.sionate feelings.

"How long might an unprotected individual survive in such places?" Machiko asks.

The chief of the Nagato Corp medical division is consulted. He states, via telecom, "I have seen nothing to indicate that an unprotected human or metahuman could not survive a short-term exposure to the toxins reputed to be present in these two regions. However, to date, there have been no comprehensive studies of the hazards to biological organisms present in these areas, and I am under the impression that such hazards are not limited to strictly mundane chemical and/or radiological hazards."

"Do you suggest that there may be hazards of a metaphysical nature?" asks Colonel Satomi.

"That is precisely what I suggest."

But the point is irrelevant. It is clear to Machiko what must be done. The swords at her back and waist make it clear. A lifetime of duty and loyalty make it clear. She may come in time to question the principles of those she serves, she may come to make inquiries and to weigh all answers with care, but that time is not now.

Now she must remain focused, if only out of loyalty to herself, to the Way, and to the spirit of the ancient warriors who have guided her throughout her life.

"We must seek Gamma regardless of the risk."

Colonel Satomi concurs.

By five p.m., a pair of task forces are prepared, briefed, and ready. Ground units are ordered to staging zones. Machiko dispatches Gongoro and a team of GSG to monitor and support the SDF force that will sweep through the wastes of Newark's Sector 13. Machiko herself will join a team waiting to link with the forces already converging on the Slag Heap.

At twenty minutes past five, Colonel Satomi turns to a telecom and contacts his opposite numbers at the various corps responsible for police services in the plex.

"We are launching proprietary anti-terrorist operations," he tells them. "Please advise your forces to remain clear of these areas."

It is more a warning than a request. Satomi does not ask permission for the sweeps and his opposites merely acknowledge that the message is understood. This is the protocol.

Corporations in the New York region do not generally interfere with the ma.s.s movements of other corps' forces to neutral territory. That would be a prescription for intercorporate warfare. It could lead too easily to the unfortunate consequences of misconceptions. Told that Nagato SDF is on the move. Lone Star and the other police service corps will almost certainly stand back and merely monitor events. Any legal issues that may arise can be handled later, negotiated by lawyers, once the guns have been put away and relative calm is restored.

On the aeropad atop Nagato Tower, Machiko mounts a waiting Hughes Stallion helo marked for the SDF. The helo immediately lifts off. Machiko distributes digipics of Gamma to her team of five GSG and reaffirms the central message of the mission briefing. "He must absolutely be taken alive."

Gamma is a mage. He did not himself penetrate the Nagato computer network. He did not himself send messages to Zurich banks. If he is the force behind the attempt to acquire Nagato debt and bring the corp to ruin, he commands others with expertise in business and computers and these persons must absolutely be apprehended. They must be stopped, and Gamma may be the only means of finding them. He must be captured and compelled to reveal the totality of his plans, everything he knows.

The SDF helo slices across northern Queens, skirting LaGuardia Airport, then cleaves a path down the center of Long Island, over Na.s.sau and then Suffolk County airs.p.a.ces, then swings north toward the sh.o.r.eline.

The SDF pilot shouts over the commlink, "Command signals ready! Initiate Black Typhoon!"

Machiko nods in acknowledgment. She signals her team to prepare for combat. The helo's lone ork crewman yanks open the side door to the main cabin and swings an M107 Stoner-Ares heavy machine gun into position.

A moment more and aircraft appear from the east, a flight of SDF helos accompanied by a twin-engine Commander VTOL gunship and a pair of attack choppers.

Then, the region of the Slag Heap comes into visual range.