Steel Rain (31 page)
Possible objectives are discussed. Zoge-san expresses the belief that the objective may be to force Nagato Corp to divest certain assets, which Fuchi would then swallow whole. The discussion continues along these lines until
Adachi-san says, "Of course, we have only the use of this van to indicate Fuchi involvement."
"Machiko-san has recently been to the Fuchi towers." Zoge-san looks down the length of the table to Machiko, and says, "I am curious as to your perspective. Do you believe that Fuchi is responsible for the Chrysanthemum Palace attack or the other recent attacks against Nagato Combine?" The inquiry seems made with great ease. Formulating an answer is difficult. The difficulty is compounded by the fact that the leaders of Nagato Combine have just spent much time considering Fuchi's objective in creating the appearance of war. To say that Fuchi would be unlikely to do this is tantamount to saying that the leaders have been wasting time; worse, that their basic assumption is wrong. Who is Machiko to say something like that?
She bows, and says, "The Fuchi security apparatus is very highly regarded. I have difficulty understanding why they would allow a Fuchi vehicle to be used in an attack by Fuchi agents."
"Perhaps they wish the world to accept the premise that Fuchi makes war on Nagato Combine."
Machiko hesitates. Zoge-san speaks of corporate strategies. He is the expert on corps, the legal and financial specialist. Who is she to offer comments? Yet the man's remark was directed to her and he waits, watching her, obviously expecting a reply. She must say something, something relevant, something meaningful, if only to avoid dishonoring the Guard. If she is to serve Nagato Combine as a warrior must serve, she must say what she thinks.
She bows, and says, "Please excuse me, but I do not think that Fuchi would adopt such a strategy."
Zoge-san questions her with his eyes, and says, "I would be interested to hear your reasoning."
Machiko struggles to order her thoughts. The many leaders looking to her, awaiting her words, adding the weight of their presence to the already considerable weight of Zoge-san's eyes, do not aid in the effort. And of course the unyielding gaze of Honjowara
-sama
only makes her more keenly aware of her inexperience in matters of corporate strategy.
Her first words emerge abruptly. "Plans go awry," she says. "A general planning campaign must account for this in some manner. Any plan to send covert agents against an enemy must be prepared for the possibility that these agents will be discovered. If Fuchi were planning a campaign against Nagato Combine, and wishing to create the appearance of war, I do not believe they would call attention to themselves. That would be to invite disaster, to announce the ambush before it is sprung. I believe they would use some other corps to create the desired effect. There are other megacorps, sufficiently powerful as to seem like giants compared to Nagato Combine. Creating the appearance that another corp goes to war with Nagato Combine would seem to reduce the chance that the deception is discovered and traced to Fuchi."
Zoge-san appears to consider all this, then says, "You suggest, then, that perhaps some other corp or organization utilizes this strategy, using Fuchi as their dupe."
Machiko had not thought of that, had not carried her thoughts far enough to reach that conclusion, but the idea, now presented to her, seems like the only logical conclusion. She bows. "This seems plausible to me."
Yoshida Mabuchi says, "What corp would dare to use Fuchi as its dupe?"
A discussion of this point begins, but before a conclusion can be reached Machiko finds the young GSG kneeling near her by the door signaling for a withdrawal. She questions this with her eyes, but when he repeats the signal vehemently she complies and follows him through the door, across the hallway and into an unoccupied office.
Here, he turns to face her. As he turns, he lifts a hand to the rear of his jaw and pulls at his skin and removes a mask every bit as supple and lifelike as real skin.
Machiko blinks, astonished. She lowers the sword that came so swiftly to hand. "
Sensei
..."
Kuroda
-sensei
gazes at her with steel-gray eyes, and says, softly, "Even in the Void, there is timing. Is this not so?"
"It is," Machiko replies. "But
sensei
, why—?"
Kuroda
-sensei
cuts her off with a brief movement of his chin, like the flourish of a sword seeking its scabbard. "The river we travel is full of swirling currents. Now you must focus on the currents around you. This hotel attack has unsettled the spirit of the corporate over-world. What advice did you give Honjowara
-sama
when you first spoke of Fuchi?"
Machiko thinks back. "When the sword will not cut, stab at the enemy's heart."
Kuroda
-sensei
says, "Now you must consider timing. You must capitalize on the moment. Call Gordon Ito. Demand a meeting. Insist upon it. Ito will recognize how your visit to the Fuchi towers is being used to substantiate this talk of war. He is not a man who exposes his face or his hand without cause. Perhaps now he has cause. Perhaps now he will speak to you."
Machiko can barely contain her puzzlement. "
Sensei
, you have had dealings with Gordon Ito? You speak as though you know his sword."
Kmoda
-sensei
says, quietly, "We will talk again."
The diamond-faceted exterior of their delta icon noses up against a system icon in the form of a generic white cube. Negative alert, says Rad238. Camo on, says SmoKe. Initializing entry prog, says NodeBoy.
They slide through a reed and cloud insignia and invade the node. Multiple sub-nodes detected, says Rad238. Cloaking, says SmoKe. Launching progs, says NodeBoy.
There are dozens of sec cams and sensors. The assembled data-feeds paint a picture as true and complete as direct sensory experience. Watch devices 25B004 through 12, Rad238 informs. Recording, SmoKe says.
The room is large and paneled in black. A long low table runs down the center of the lacquered floor. All the leaders are present. News tridcasts report on the hotel attack. There is much talk. They don't ken, says SmoKe. They think someone's out to bankrupt their corp. Limited viewpoints, says Rad238.
The way we want 'em, NodeBoy says.
"The Fuchi security apparatus is very highly regarded. I have difficulty understanding why they would allow a Fuchi vehicle to be used in an attack by Fuchi agents."
"Perhaps they wish the world to accept the premise that Fuchi makes war on Nagato Combine."
"Please excuse me, but I do not thing that Fuchi would adopt such a strategy."
Dangerous, says Rad238. Watch this one.
The one he means is female. Onboard database IDs her as Machiko 29-077346GSG. She goes to speak with another, a male. Kurada 11-422059GSG. The room is small and private. "When the sword will not cut," says Machiko 29-077346GSG, "stab at the enemy's heart."
Kuroda 11-422059GSG replies, "Now you must consider timing. You must capitalize on the moment. Call Gordon Ito."
Reference database.
Ito. We've heard this name before.
Another one to watch.
Watch closely.
Yes.
The drive to the Brooklyn Bridge takes only a few minutes. However, they must stop at the checkpoint before the bridge. The checkpoint, like the bridge, is grim and grimy, lit by weak floodlights, and looks like something from the last century.
The City of New York maintains checkpoints at all access points to Manhattan island. Machiko is unsure why. Much of the region has always seemed as rampant with crime as the rest of the New York-New Jersey megaplex. The necessity of stopping to show "passes" at every bridge and tunnel appears to accomplish little but the wasting of valuable time.
A uniformed officer for the Port Authority comes to the driver's side window. The SDF officer at the wheel lifts a gray corporate card for the officer to see. "The car in back is with us."
"You're in, chummer."
The Port Authority officer waves them on. He also waves at the second car, the car containing the Fuchi agent, Scudder.
The surface of the bridge is pocked with ruts and holes and comes down in the face of City Center. The SDF driver turns them up Park Row and drives past Bowery Avenue onto East Broadway. That takes them into the Pit and to a narrow street not far from Chinatown, except in terms of general aspect.
Debris lines the sidewalks. Fires burn in alleyways and inside the blackened wounds of windows. The rusted, burnt-out wrecks of automobiles sit along both curbs. A pair of gangers on Harley Scorpions circle the middle of the block, then tear off for the distant corner, rearing up on their back wheels, only to turn and come racing back.
Along the right, between brick-faced ruins, stands a narrow parking garage, apparently abandoned, but far from deserted. A garbage dumpster stands before the entrance. Beside the dumpster waits a small group of figures in grim synthleather, studs and spikes and chains, and an assortment of ferocious weapons. Two norms, an elf and a troll, all of them female. With slashcut hair and menacing face tats and the vicious grinning logo of the Sisters Sinister. Machiko signals a halt and lowers her window. One of the "Sisters" looks in, then signals, and the female troll shoves the dumpster aside
The SDF driver eases the sedan ahead.
The main floor of the parking garage is lit by fires flickering from rusty metal cans. Perhaps as many as forty motorcycles, most of them gleaming with aerodynamic NeoKevlar armor, sit parked in small scattered groups. The bikes' riders are similarly scattered, some dancing to roaring dredrock, some drinking, others off in the shadows as if standing watch. Most are female and most are attired like the four at the entrance. One of the few males Machiko spots sits with his back to a concrete column, the chain ringing the column attached to the manacle ringing his neck.
The current leader of the gang waits just inside the entrance. She is called "Stitch." She has Japanese features and a slight build, but carries herself like one experienced in combat.
"No
omae
-
Sukayo
!" she says, at Machiko's window.
"Sukayo-san is engaged elsewhere," Machiko replies. She lifts a credstick to window-level. "The garage is clear?"
"This is Hotel Sinister, lady snake. It's clear as shick."
"Your cooperation is appreciated."
The credstick is accepted. The "Sister" claps one fist into the palm of her other hand and affects a bow. "Cheks to the oyabun."
An acknowledgment of favor shown by agents of Nagato Combine and hence the Chairman, here called "oyabun." It is intended as a respectful acknowledgment. Machiko affects a very slight bow, despite her true inclinations. She sees little difference between gangers like the Sisters Sinister and murderers like Lau Tsang of the Large Circle League. She does not like dealing with such persons. She does not like allowing such persons to roam freely. They are criminals and belong in prisons. However, there is no denying that such tasks as Nagato Combine may periodically assign them takes up time that might be spent in far more nefarious ways.
The SDF driver rolls the sedan ahead. The second car follows closely. They ride up the ramp to the second level and there turn around and park, facing the ramp. They do not wait long.
Two heavy Nissan sedans come up the ramp and park side by side. Momentarily, headlights wink out and a male norm emerges and walks forward. He is slim and tall and wears a long black duster over an executive style of suit. His short white hair seems almost luminous in the wavering aura of his heat signature. There are no cool points of contrast in his heat signature to suggest the possible presence of either body armor or weapons.
Machiko steps out to meet him.
They spend several moments gazing at each other, surveying, scrutinizing. "You know who I am?"
Machiko nods. He is Gordon Ito. "Nagato Security Service is very limited compared to your own organization, but in some regards it is very well-informed."
Ito light a cigarette. The smell no less disagreeable for being relatively mild. "This is some site for a meet."
"You expressed a desire for privacy."
"Those your razors downstairs? The Sisters Sinister?"
"Tonight, a certain relationship exists, paid for in nuyen. They will not disturb us."
"I believe you owe me something."
Machiko lifts a hand and signals.
To her rear, a car door opens. Three sets of feet echo against the floor, two in heavy boots, one in soft-soled shoes. A pair of SDF troopers in combat fatigues appear on Machiko's left. Between them is the Fuchi agent, Scudder. Ito motions with his chin, and Scudder walks ahead to the Nissan sedans. Machiko gestures and the two SDF troopers return to her rear.
Ito takes a drag on his cigarette. "That concludes old business," he says. "You've got new business?"
"I believe you are being used."
"That's an interesting assertion. If I am being used, it's my problem and I'll handle it."
"I believe your problem is related to my problem."
"Meaning the alleged Fuchi-Nagato war." Ito shrugs. "I wouldn't say that's much of a problem. The potential for damage to the Fuchi image is minimal. Some of our publicly traded ventures might take a hit at the exchange. In the long run it's meaningless."