--7--
"Progress?""Since the Queen Margaret incident, there has been no sign of him," said the voice on the other end of the transmission. "I think he's in hiding now, building up his resources. How is your research coming along?"
"Much more smoothly now that I'm not being observed," Rafael smiled to himself. "The box functions exactly as you described, but some of the other upgrades will take time."
Though he couldn't see his colleague's face, Dr. Rafael could sense amusement over the transmission. "Speaking of Asakura, I see that he's wasted no time getting into trouble."
"I told him to enjoy the peacetime until I called him. He may not exactly be keeping a low profile, but he's not endangering our plans."
"What will you do about his loyalties to the ISO?"
"I'll let him choose. Advantages and disadvantages are about even. If he goes back, he'll have their resources, but also his obligations to them."
"Have you discussed it?"
"He's never brought it up. We'll worry about it when the time comes."
"Keep me up to date," his caller said, and signed off.
Ê
As promised, Ken showed up at the ISO the next day to fill in his reports on his plane accident. The procedure was standard; something that Ken had done many times. But instead of meeting with his usual flight staff, Ken met with a number of special agents who asked the questions, gave him the forms to fill out, then thanked him and ushered him out when he was finished. They were polite, but tight-lipped, and Ken could not get any details from them. When he tried to call Dr. Nambu, he was told the professor was in the middle of a conference and unavailable. He remained unavailable through several follow-up calls as well, and Ken was left to heal and stew in his own curiosity.Days passed, and despite his enforced convalescence, Ken settled into an easy routine at Jun's place. Their little tryst the day of Ken's return from the hospital was not to be a one-time occurrence--Jun made that perfectly clear--and though Ken still slept in the guest room at night to keep up appearances, the mornings before they opened up shop belonged to Jun. At first, Ken was terrified of what would happen now that he had crossed the line and shown her his true feelings--he expected the ceiling to fall in or some disaster to strike, as it always had with those he had become close to. But nothing happened. The only real difference was that now he knew what he had been missing, and he no longer got flustered at Jinpei's jokes. In any case, it was the only thing that kept him from going stir-crazy while he was grounded.
It was about four o' clock, right before the afternoon crowd was due in. Ken was propped up on a stool behind the bar, up to his elbows in soapy water. True love or no, Jun never forgot a debt or passed up an opportunity, so Ken was earning his keep, washing glasses behind the bar. A few feet away, Jun was wiping tables and watching her customers.
"You wouldn't catch me doing this if I wasn't laid up," Ken grumbled under his breath.
"What's that?"
"Aa? Oh, nothing." He grimaced. Sharp ears. Well, once this load was done, he could take his rightful place on the other side of the bar. He hoped he would be finished before Jinpei got home from school--the kid found the whole situation hilarious, and never passed up an opportunity to rub it in.
Ken had just gotten off dish duty and back on his usual stool when the door banged open and Jinpei walked in. Ken braced himself, but the usual noisy greeting and obligatory razz of the latest victim of Jun's Work Reform Plan never came. Jinpei stalked silently down the aisle with a sour look on his face. He looked rumpled and his jacket was stained, as if he had been in a fight.
Jun stared at him, open-mouthed, as he went by. "Jinpei? What on earth--?"
Ken grabbed one of his crutches from where it was leaning against the counter, and used it to block the boy's way. Jinpei turned a poisonous glare on him. "What happened to you?" Ken demanded.
"Women, that's what!" Jinpei snarled. "All they are is trouble!" He shoved the crutch out of his way and continued toward the back door. "I don't need 'em!"
"Jinpei!" Jun sounded stricken.
"What?" Ken grinned, trying to lighten the mood a little. "Did she try to beat you up or something?"
The boy whirled back on him and there were tears in his eyes. "No, it was her damn friends. Why can't things be like they used to be? Everything was so much easier then!" He went through the door and slammed it behind him. They heard him pound up the stairs, then another door slammed, followed by silence.
Jun hurried for the door, but Ken grabbed her arm. "Leave him be."
She stared at him, indignant. "But he's--"
"He's fine. Do you really think he'd let a bunch of kids beat him up?" Ken shook his head. "Leave him be. If he wants our help, he'll ask."
Back in his room, Jinpei threw his bags down and flung himself on the bed. He wanted to break something; instead he yanked his pillow from the bed and threw it against the wall. He had taken Ken's advice, and to his surprise, it had worked. Laura was charmed by him. Laura thought he was cute. Laura thought it'd be fine if they studied together. But now it wasn't Laura that was the problem.
"It wasn't the ambush," he said to the ceiling, and his voice, which was just on the verge of changing, wobbled and cracked. He hated the sound of it. "And it wasn't the fight. Those damn football players can't fight their way out of a paper sack. They hated me. They wanted to hurt me. For what? For trying to make friends inside their elite group. For not being a big, musclebound, pointy-headed... moron like them. They think they're so cool... And all the while, Laura just sits there, oblivious, like some queen." He lunged off the bed, stepped over to the dormer window in his attic room, and yanked it open. "I risked my life to save you guys!" he screamed out over the street. "And you're not worth it!"
The signal came at three in the morning: an electronic shriek similar to modem feedback. It sent Joe bolt upright in bed. He looked wildly around, half expecting to be in the old briefing room at Crescent Base with Ken glaring at him for falling asleep. Instead he found himself on a king-sized bed in a dark, expensively decorated bedroom. A young woman lay asleep beside him, her face turned away. She hadn't heard the alarm at all--it had come from inside his head.Joe had just enough time to catch his breath before the second summons came, this time with a set of coordinates, whispered in radio static on the insides of his eardrums. Joe ground his teeth and swore under his breath--Rafael had told him what to expect, but that didn't make it any more comfortable to deal with. If the old man could stick messages in his brain, what else could he put there? Joe loathed the idea of anyone messing with his head.
Beside him the woman stirred but didn't waken. Her long, black hair spilled across the pillow and one slim arm hung over the edge of the bed. A gap in the sheet revealed the seductive curve of one bare breast; the line of her lower back where it merged with her hips, and Joe was tempted to run his fingers along the smooth valley above her spine. He hadn't sought their affair, but at this point he didn't regret it. Her red Ferrari F-50 had gotten his attention, he had gotten hers, and the conversation had proceeded to a small cafe, then back to the car and eventually to her bedroom. He'd balked at first, afraid that his changes would become obvious, or that he might hurt her; but her kisses drew the same responses from his new body as they would have in the old, and she was anything but fragile in his arms. It was ironic that after a night spent confirming this one particular aspect of his humanity, Dr. Rafael would call him this way and spoil the illusion.
It really wasn't fair to just leave her like this. He thought about leaving a note, but trying to explain would only make things worse. Joe could imagine how she'd react to the truth: "Oh sure, you're leaving to save the world from an extraterrestrial menace. I've never heard that one before."
And yet... this call could mean that X has returned already. Joe could stop wasting his time playing with the gangs and get back to work.
Good.
He grabbed his backpack and silently left the house.
Joe was sent to an office-style room in the top floor of the complex. Rafael turned and faced him the moment the door opened. "So how was the physical?" he asked in that slow, ponderous way of his, with a smirk that was barely concealed behind his beard."Fine," Joe growled. The thorough checkup had tested his patience as much as his physical condition. No doubt Rafael already had the damn results on his desk. "So where is X?"
"Sit down, Joe." The young man sat where Rafael pointed, and the doctor turned on the screen at his end of the room. The lights dimmed, and the screen glowed to show film footage taken from a satellite camera and computer enhanced. Above the blue curve of the Earth, a glowing light shot across the screen, then spiraled down through the clouds. The camera pulled in, following the movement. The light appeared to pause for a moment, then dove, plowing through the dark shape of a ship and cleaving it in two before vanishing deep into the ocean. The date displayed on the lower right corner of the screen was one month ago to the day. Joe felt a rush of resentment at that.
"This footage was taken by an Ameris military satellite, just beyond the coast of Espania," Rafael said. "The ship it struck was the Queen Margaret, a luxury cruise ship. Five hundred and twenty six passengers were rescued. All eyewitness accounts reported a bright light that crashed through the deck like a missile, then disappeared into the ocean."
Joe grimaced; the Queen Margaret had been one of the biggest pleasure barges in the ocean. If it had been full when it set out, less than a fifth of its passengers had survived. "Any motive?"
"Not that I can ascertain. There were some ISO people and retired military personnel on the passenger list, but dead or alive, their whereabouts have all been confirmed. Perhaps it was done out of spite."
"Where is X now?"
The screen switched off. "I'm not sure," Rafael said. "The ocean floor lies over fifteen thousand meters deep. There is no way to track an object at that depth without special equipment. However, if it is X, perhaps I can offer an educated guess. Due to its remote location, unfriendly terrain and previous familiarity, I suggest we keep a close eye on the Himalayas."
Again? Joe didn't look forward to returning to those harsh, forbidding mountains and the memories they held. "Cross Karakoram? I thought the ISO had set up a research facility there."
Rafael shook his head. "I don't think he'll return to Cross Karakoram. It wouldn't be wise to alert the ISO at this time by setting up shop in front of their noses."
"So what are our options? We watch and wait?" Joe almost wished he hadn't been called in for this. All he could do now was fidget until more info came in.
It was almost as if the Doctor had read his mind. He glanced at the young man sideways, and raised one bushy eyebrow. "Don't worry, Joe," he said. "I don't think we'll be kept waiting long."
Joe left the complex and wandered down the corridors to the docks, his mind working furiously. He hated feeling helpless. There had to be something he could do now.
Bright sunshine fell onto his face, and he squinted up at the sky--he had made it outside. His little speedboat waited below, rocking gently in the waves of the tiny inlet. He leaned against the rock wall and reviewed his conversation with Rafael yet again.
"I don't think he'll return to Cross Karakoram. It wouldn't be wise to alert the ISO at this time."
No, not for X, it wouldn't.
Suddenly, Joe grinned. There wasn't anything he could act upon until he had more information, but nobody had said he couldn't pass along what little information he had. After all, he thought, misery loves company.
The agent Julia stood behind the professor's desk and watched him review the data yet again. It was all she could do to keep from hanging her head in embarrassment."You found this where?"
"As standard e-mail, sitting in the ISO mailbox, addressed to you."
"Yet you can't trace this?"
"We traced the message back to a student computer at Boston University. Time of transmission was 2 am. None of the night watch we questioned recalled any activity at that time--all videotaped footage is clean."
"Why does this not surprise me," Nambu muttered.
"Our friend had to use a student's name to log on, and went under the name Tina Mckendricks. Mckendricks is in traction in the university hospital, recovering from an automobile accident."
"What were the factors surrounding the accident?"
Julia opened the manila folder she was holding and paged through it. "Drunk driver, hit and run. It was late at night. Mckendricks was found about ten minutes after it happened. A passerby called paramedics and possibly administrated first aid--she was lying beside the car and had been treated for shock before the paramedics arrived. He didn't stay around or leave a name, though."
"It was male?"
"According to the dispatcher, yes."
"Do they have a recording of the call?"
"We're putting a copy through analysis now."
"Have someone interview Miss Mckendricks and find out if she has received any visitors she doesn't know." This could be a dead end, but better than nothing. This messenger--providing it was the same person who was using the ISO access codes, and he suspected it was--was starting to intrigue him. It was an unspoken challenge, and Nambu had the impression that the person was playing with him. The agent excused herself and left the office.
The doctor shifted the mouse and ran the sequence again. It was simple: computer enhanced satellite footage of the Queen Margaret attack, but different footage than what was in the ISO archives. The footage had been attached to a simple e-mail message, which contained only three words: "WATCH THE MOUNTAINS."
It wasn't the meaning of the message as much as what it implied.
The professor's intercom beeped; absently he switched it on. "Engineer Kamo wishes to speak with you sir," said his receptionist. "Are you available?"
"Let him in, please."
Engineer Kamo had come into Professor Nambu's office to deliver the news personally. It came abruptly, without the usual greetings and preambles: "Launch day has arrived, Hakase."
The professor looked up from his work and raised an eyebrow. "You're three days ahead of schedule," he noted.
The portly old engineer gave him a wide grin and adjusted his coat, unable to conceal his pride. "The work went more smoothly than we expected. The transport is waiting, and we can leave as soon as you're ready."
"Hm." Nambu nodded, then pressed a button on the intercom and instructed his secretary to cancel the day's appointments. In a few smooth, efficient movements, he swept the day's work into his briefcase, traded his lab smock for a suit coat, and motioned for the chief engineer to lead the way.
A hovercraft took them from the roof of the ISO building, over the city and toward the ocean. Six hours later, they descended onto an old military aircraft carrier remodeled for ISO use. Nambu and Kamo were ushered into the ship for a thirty-minute cruise. The professor walked up to the bridge and stood with the captain, grateful for the chance to stretch his legs.
Finally the ship arrived at the proper coordinates. The captain escorted them to a small rampway set at the rear of the ship, hidden just beneath the flat top. Sitting on the ramp was a small submarine; the final leg of the journey.
The trip didn't last long. Although he had been studying the schematics for years and was completely familiar with the design, Dr. Nambu found himself staring through the tiny porthole in amazement.
The construction of the ISO's second top-secret research installation, dubbed "G-Town" by the engineers who had designed it, had started shortly after the first Galactor attack on its predecessor, Crescent Coral. Larger, more advanced, more mobile and more heavily-armored than Crescent Base, G-Town's primary problem lay in where and how something so large could be built in secrecy. Construction finally took place in a volcanically active area, where interference from the seismic activity would confuse enemy radar. Of course there had also been the chance that an unfortunate eruption would destroy all the ISO's work. Now the product of all their efforts lay before the two men, larger than life. Their transport drifted like a tiny speck through the gates of the main airlock and vanished within.
The new staff lined up on the dock as Nambu stepped out of the sub. He looked from face to face, noting the eager expressions, as if they couldn't wait to show him the new toy. "How does it look?" he asked them.
"Everything's operating without a hitch, sir. All that's left is for the rest of the research staff to move in."
"Good."
The Security Chief then took over, leading the professor on a tour through the main security headquarters. All was in order there. They then went through the research wing where Dr. Nambu's new office was located. Their footsteps echoed though the empty corridors--empty for the last time before the new staff arrived. On his way he passed through the main briefing room at the bow of the complex. It was a vast, high-ceilinged room--wasteful in a structure where space was at such a premium. The small trio of couches at the opposite end were dwarfed by windows that took up the entire back wall. Schools of fish drifted past the glass. That view could prove to be a distraction later. As if reading his mind, Kamo said, almost defensively, "We figured we could allow for one extravagance. You deserve it."
"Hm," Nambu said.
His office was of a much more comfortable size. His computer was already on line, and all his files were in place. His desk had been meticulously arranged to match the one at ISO Headquarters, every item in its place. He looked up at Kamo, who had followed him in, and motioned for the Chief Engineer to sit.
"Is this office secure?"
"Yes, Hakase. Airtight."
Nambu didn't smile at that. He sincerely hoped the security was indeed airtight--more so than ISO Headquarters, anyway. With recent events, he was starting to feel very vulnerable.
"The Conservatory Operation is in full swing," Kamo continued without prompting. "Assembly of the vehicles has begun, and the frames will be shipped here by the end of the week. We'll need about four weeks to complete assembly, and another four for testing."
That's moving slowly, but then there is nothing wrong with the old weapons, should it come to that. The professor nodded and said nothing.
"After that, we'll need to take measurements for the seats and controls," Kamo added. "I take it you haven't told the kids yet?"
The kids... That was tactful, Kamo. "No. Let them enjoy the peace while it lasts."
"I wish it would." The Old Man looked uncomfortable. "There is one more thing... the construction of the machine for G-2. Should we continue with it?"
Nambu had looked over the schematics. The machine was indeed specialized, yet... "Yes. However, set it last in priority."
"Consider it done."
Kamo left, and Nambu sat alone in his new office, glaring around the room. It was completely silent, save for the drone of the fluorescent lamps and the hush of air conditioning, and he felt a sense of total isolation. It wasn't comforting. He wished the Old Man hadn't brought the issue of the Team up so soon, but he was only doing his job. Now, he chided himself, I should be doing mine.
The professor pulled open his briefcase and piled the contents on his desk. First was Ken's report--his account of the test plane crash--along with the fresh analyses from Aviation Engineering. Both documents were in agreement--there was no evidence of negligence on the parts of either pilot or engineer. There was no evidence he had hit a bird; no evidence of any outside influence that could have caused those engines to explode. Both reports suggested sabotage.
But who, and why? Was it the new design, or the pilot? Outside of the Blue Hawk, none of the other test pilots had ever been targeted, and the Blue Hawk had been years ago, when Galactor was at its peak. Could someone be targeting Ken? Someone who knew his identity and had a grudge? Galactor couldn't possibly still be active, could it? And the ISO had many other enemies.
Could it be their strange informant? Nambu didn't think so.
Frowning, he pulled out a legal pad and jotted down his orders, then picked up the phone. Ken would chafe at the order to stay put, but he would just have to cope. The professor had already sent too many agents off to their deaths. Ken's father for one, and Ken a number of times. He had only been lucky, so far.
"After victory, tighten the straps of your helmet." Old General Tokugawa was wiser than he knew.
Next he picked up a folder crammed with photos and dossiers. One by one, he spread them on the desk until the faces of ten young people stared up at him. He had spent weeks carefully reviewing each dossier, researching each candidate personally. He would have to choose one of them, as soon as possible. He had done this kind of work many times before, but this particular choice was the last one in the world he wanted to make.
Dr. Nambu had chosen many candidates for many teams over the years. Of all of those teams, only the Kagaku Ninjatai consisted of people he hadn't chosen. Those five children had just... fallen into his lap. Ken had been volunteered by his own father. Joe had become his responsibility after he saved the boy from certain death and Ryu had volunteered himself against everyone else's judgment. Even Jun had happened when Nambu had gone to the orphanage to check out another candidate, and discovered the boy he'd chosen had been adopted. And Jun had brought Jinpei with her.
Of all the teams, only the one he hadn't hand-picked had succeeded.
That doesn't do much for one's self confidence, does it?
One of the young people from these files would have to take Joe's place, if only because all their equipment required the cooperation of a five-person team. One of these candidates would have to try and live up to Joe's reputation, and would face the prejudices of the others. Even worse, this candidate would come in cold; well-trained, but without the fire and familiarity that drove the others.
If only I didn't have to make this choice. If only one more candidate would just... turn up and be the right one.... If only Joe would turn up alive. But that is asking too much, isn't it? Even if he'd survived, he would probably be crippled and embittered beyond all help.
But that troublemaker who has been raiding our files... the one who just slipped all the disturbing information into our systems with no trace... if only he would get dropped into my lap as well....
Then again, maybe I can call him out of hiding, providing I can figure out his puzzle.
The professor sighed. He no longer had the time. Kamo had driven that fact home.
Pulling a red pen out of his desk, he numbered each dossier according to preference, shuffled the photos in order, and again reached for the phone on top of his desk.
Even forty five thousand feet below the surface of the ocean, all was not totally silent. Sharp sensors could pick up a million different sounds, from the sighs and groans of distant sea creatures to the rush of currents. And now there were new sounds: the creaking and clashing of artificial materials--metals and ceramics and plastics--twisting and joining into new forms.Using scrap metal from what was left of the Queen Margaret in addition to materials from his own ship, the alien slowly and patiently molded himself into a new frame, expanding upward and outward until he had created an enormous saucerlike craft. He would not repeat his previous mistake of remaining in one location. Now he knew he had enemies who were actually capable of hurting, if not destroying him. And now that these enemies knew some of his old secrets, it was time to start with a clean slate.
At four am Greenwich time, the armored saucer burst free of the ocean's surface and skimmed low over the water toward China. As his craft moved, he began to broadcast the call. Sosai X had gone through a great deal of trouble to establish a subtle link with his underlings, in the event that Katse ever decided to turn traitor. Not that he had ever expected that--Berg Katse had been too weak, too trusting--but it paid to be prepared. This call would summon his best officers and closest soldiers, if any had survived since his flight. Of course, he expected a lot of them had. Both the United Nations and the ISO regarded their weakness and stupidity as kindness and morality and would not have exterminated his men. Once they were assembled and organized, he could activate the next step of his plan.
Suspended in a growth capsule deep within the saucer, that next step--the future leader of Galactor--writhed and changed and dreamed the disjointed dreams of a four-year-old child.
--8--
"So how's the leg?"Ryu leaned against the doorframe to his little boathouse and stared out at the ocean. It was a beautiful day. The morning sun glittered on the water. Seagulls circled and called to each other overhead, and a boat motor droned in the distance.
"Better, thanks," said Ken's voice on the other end of the line. He was now off the crutches, working back to his old fighting shape, and champing at the bit. "Though not getting there fast enough for me. Why don't you come down?"
"Got a new scuba class starting in half an hour--bunch of college girls, really cute."
"Think you'll get lucky?" There was a teasing note in Ken's voice.
"There's always a chance one of them will see me for the charming guy I am," Ryu said and chuckled. "Or I could stage a rescue; play the big hero. Which reminds me." Ryu frowned suddenly. "I didn't tell you about this because of your accident, but when I bought that truck a coupla weeks ago, there was a holdup."
"You mentioned that."
"Did I mention that the guy had an old Galactor-issue rifle?"
Ken's voice lowered dangerously. "No."
"Well I got curious about it, so I worked my way through the police station. There's a cute sergeant there... um, anyway, the gun was purchased through this guy's gang, who picked it up from a branch of the Chinese mafia."
"And?"
"I didn't get much further than that. The gang's main warehouses in Honkong went up in flames about the same time as the holdup. Some sort of war--papers said somebody used plastique in there, and they think it was someone from the other gang. Case closed, and there goes our evidence, right? Afterward, I went to Dr. Nambu and told him about it. He said there was nothing to worry about, that he had people working on it."
"You should've told me this sooner."
Ryu scratched the back of his head uneasily, thankful he wasn't looking at Ken's face at the moment. "Dr. Nambu told me not to. He said it'd just make you stir-crazy, and that we didn't have to get involved."
"That's not the point," Ken growled. "If it's Galactor activity, we're going to get involved."
Ryu made an embarrassed noise. He'd been afraid this would happen. But before he could say anything else, he spotted a car coming down the road leading from the main gate. "Looks like they're here, Ken. I gotta go."
"Come over here when you're done." He tried not to make it sound like a command, but it did.
"Sure. Later." Ryu hung up and breathed a sigh of relief. True, it was only a short reprieve, but he couldn't have picked a better diversion. And who cared how the rest of the day went if he could get lucky for a change?
Outside the car pulled into a parking space and the doors opened. Ryu saw who was getting out, and groaned: His new students had all brought boyfriends.
Back at the Snack Jun, Ken hung up the phone and slammed his fist down on the counter. No one was around to see his show of temper--Jun was upstairs and Jinpei was at school--so he was free to indulge. Always concerned about others.... "Dammit," he said through clenched teeth.
First the shutout over the test plane crash, and now this. He didn't know what made him angrier, Dr. Nambu's attempt to keep him in the dark about the guns and the gangs, or Ryu's obeying him. For years, the team had always gone to Ken first. He'd been the leader, with firsthand knowledge of what was going on; someone they had trusted. And Ken had done his best not to betray that trust; to behave the way a leader should. But now that his war was over, he found himself isolated, out of the loop, suspended from duty though he'd proved he hadn't been negligent. And the Doctor wouldn't even explain why.
What the hell am I now? he wondered. Don't I matter anymore? After all I've sacrificed and held back, does it mean nothing? Am I to be babied and catered to now, as if the wound in my leg has damaged my brain as well?
You're being unreasonable, the little voice of his conscience chided him.
"Well, fuck reasonable!" he snarled aloud, lunging up from his stool and limping furiously across the room. "I've been reasonable all my life, and look where it's getting me!"
You're getting restless, said his conscience again. Still grounded and confined. It's making you edgy.
No, he argued. It's more than that! He came to a wall and pounded his fist against it. The pain made him look down.
Ken had replaced his bracelet with a wristwatch, but the feeling was awkward, the weight wrong. He took the watch off and stared at the familiar pale band of skin underneath. The mark seemed to be burned in as permanently as any tattoo. The sight of it comforted him.
What had he told Jinpei earlier when he came in with girl problems? "We're just lying low, waiting for our next orders." And those orders will come, because X is not dead yet.
I am still the Gatchaman, on temporary hiatus. And when Ryu comes down here later, I will remind him of that fact. And we may be retired, but that doesn't mean we have to sit around and rot.
Besides, something's happening now. I can feel it.
Ken took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Then he heard Jun's footsteps on the stairs, and moved to the back door to meet her.
It happened very suddenly, as if it had been known that something on this scale couldn't be hidden.Joe found out in Ameris, from a source in one of the San Frangelis gangs; news that one of the rival gangs had simply vanished in thin air. A few phone calls to other connections told him the same thing had happened to other groups. By the time Rafael's summons came, Joe was already on his way to meet him. Inside Rafael's headquarters, they silently watched the information roll in via satellite and teletype and worldwide net. Rafael looked positively grim. Joe was amazed; he had always known what they were up against, but seeing it was another matter entirely.
Hundreds of thousands of people--mercenary soldiers, ex-cons, and gang members of all nationalities--were gathering--no, they were migrating--to various locations around the world; hot spots that showed no cities, no installations, no resources, no special features whatsoever. Then they simply vanished, as if they'd poured into black holes set in the earth.
Joe broke the hours of silence, finally. "I have connections with some of the gangs," he said. "I want to follow them in. I want to know where they're going."
The doctor frowned at him, considering. "Sosai X might be there, and you must stay away from him for now."
Joe blinked in surprise. "What? I thought my 'grand purpose' was to destroy him. Why can't I stop him before he starts causing trouble?"
Rafael shook his head. "No, while he has fled, he may have become stronger; upgraded his abilities. We don't know what we're up against now. We must watch and wait until we do."
"Just more recon work. Huh." Joe shook his head. I'm not even part of the Kagaku Ninjatai anymore, and I'm still stuck doing reconnaissance. Then he wished he hadn't dredged up that memory, and the pain that came with it.
"You seem to be in a hurry to get yourself killed," Rafael said. "You know that is very possible once it comes down to your battle with X."
"I thought you said I was indestructible."
"Don't mock me, Joe. Nothing on Earth is completely indestructible."
The young man shrugged. "I don't mind if it means I can take X with me. I'm supposed to be dead anyway."
Rafael looked at Joe for a moment, and the old man's face was actually sad. Joe looked away, scowling. C'mon, Doctor. You knew it would come to this when you revived me. Isn't that why you chose me? I have nothing to lose.
Joe stood up. "I'm off to see what I can find out. I can't just sit here."
"Stay away from him," Rafael repeated, and Joe stopped and turned to glare at him. "There is another reason. If X learns of your abilities, and sees you as a threat--and that will happen if you fail in an attack on him--you will never get near him again. He will track us down and destroy us both. If he can't do that, he will watch for you and flee from you. Likewise, you should refrain from revealing your special gifts to the soldiers."
"Oh, I wouldn't worry about that." Most of them wouldn't live long enough to notice.
"Be careful."
Joe waved, then vanished through the door.
Dr. Nambu's prime candidate, eighteen-year-old Hiroshi Miyagi had spent the happiest years of his life in Okinawa, where he cultivated a love of scuba diving, jet skiing, hang gliding and other daredevil sports. With this love came its share of injuries, but Hiroshi also displayed an amazing resilience and ability to bounce back, both physically and mentally.When he was twelve years old, his parents were killed in a confrontation over property, and he was sent to Tokyo to live with his aunt and her family. The relationship was cold and unloving--his relatives viewed Hiroshi as an unwelcome burden who contributed nothing to the family. So he spent very few hours at home, instead taking refuge in the dojo. At sixteen, he'd reached professional competition levels in both Kendo and Kung-fu, and won the nickname, "Tatsumaki (Tornado) Miyagi." But at this point, he dropped out, ignoring the pleas of his senseis. Competition was not what he wanted. There was something else he was searching for, though he wasn't sure what.
At seventeen, Hiroshi quit school to work full time as an acrobat at a local amusement park. Once he completed the special "combat course" designed for show personnel and graduated to the larger, more lucrative theme shows, he moved into his own apartment and cut off ties with his step-family with an attitude more of weariness than resentment. It was during one of these shows that he was "discovered." ISO intelligence reported him to be in superb physical condition, deadly accurate at throwing knives and shuriken, and more than able to account for himself against several opponents at once. With his smiling, mostly easygoing nature, he was the most likely to fit in with the Team.
Sunday afternoon, Hiroshi was backstage preparing for his round of stunts as Zap Ninja Red in the Zapman Zed Live Adventure Show. Squinting at the bright summer sun, he wiped the sweat from his face with a towel and sighed. Summer was the best time of the year for business , but also the most hazardous. With sweltering temperatures averaging ninety five degrees Fahrenheit and eighty percent humidity, and confined in a tight Spandex suit with a fiberglass helmet restricting his breathing, it was all too easy to succumb to heatstroke. Takahashi, who was doing Zap Ninja Black on this shift, had already wound up in the hospital twice. Hiroshi was tired--this was his fourth performance today--and he had probably drunk in and perspired out all of the moisture in his body at least twice. At least this was the last show of the day, and it was only twenty minutes of dodges, poses and backflips. Not like his last incarnation, Rocket Dekka, where he'd had to swing onto the stage from a steel cable three stories up. Once this was over, it was time for a cold shower, then a quick motorcycle ride home to his air-conditioned two-room apartment, where Mie-chan, with her sweet smile and magic fingers, would be waiting.
"Oi, Miyagi! Cue's up in two minutes," his choreographer called. Hiroshi waved to show he'd heard.
"Miyagi-san!" Another voice, female this time. Morikawa-chan, who handled props, appeared at the backstage entrance. "You've got a visitor--someone in a suit."
Well, that could only mean trouble... most likely some sort of legal hassle. Hiroshi grimaced. "I'm going on now. He'll have to wait until the show's over."
" He says it's very important."
Of course it is, he thought sarcastically, but he gave Morikawa a charming smile--flash of white teeth in his tanned, sculpted face--and saw her knees melt. Works every time. "He can wait fifteen minutes. There's my cue. Gotta go." Hastily, he took a swig from his can of Gatorade, pulled on his helmet and ran through the curtain.
The show went off without a hitch. Nobody strayed from position, none of the mechanics glitched, and the explosives all fired on cue. The audience--mostly elementary school-age children and their parents, with a few star-struck teenage girls there to drool over the acrobats--participated perfectly, screaming the names of the heroes, egging them all on at the right times. Hiroshi didn't realize anything was wrong until the show was almost over.
As the acrobats all appeared on stage to take their bows, the ground began to spin around him, and Hiroshi found he could barely stay on his feet. His ears roared, and his vision darkened. Strange... I don't remember getting overheated...
With all the discipline he could muster, he kept himself walking straight and steady as he followed his friends offstage. He reached for his helmet and pulled it off with hands that were fast growing numb. It felt as if pins and needles were spreading from his arms and legs and closing in on his heart.
This doesn't feel like heat exhaustion...
Once through the curtain and out of the sight of the public, Hiroshi staggered, then collapsed on the ground. The other ninjas yelped in surprise and rushed to him. Alerted by the cries of the acrobats, the ISO agent waiting just outside the backstage entrance forced his way through the door and pushed his way to the boy's side.
But Hiroshi's heart had stopped before he'd hit the ground. A short ride away from the amusement park, his girlfriend, Mie-chan, lay dead on the kitchen floor of his apartment.
To Be Continued
Part 4