Zero Sum Game (6 page)

"Ami, start counting," Hina said.

Ami had forgotten her referee duties, Hina had already been holding Ozaki's hand down for more than three seconds. He tried to bring his hand up but it never left the desktop.

"One. Two. Three." Ami hugged Hina as she disengaged her hand from Ozaki's.

Hina nodded her head towards Ozaki. "Thank you," she said.

Ozaki grabbed his shoulder and moved his arm in a circular motion a couple of times. He nodded at her compliment and moved behind his desk. "All right, settle down. Go back to your seats."

The students retook their chairs, and class began.

— — —

Ichihara slumped in his chair at the kitchen table, his tie loose and his jacket unbuttoned. He glared at the employee photos, surveillance pictures, and personnel files scattered across the table top. A half drunk and cold cup of coffee sat to one corner. Even though it was summer, Ichihara had the air conditioner off and the windows closed. Noigel, and Ichihara in particular, liked the weather hot.

After confirming that Shota Fujiya was a Noigel, but not the one he had thought him to be, Ichihara had rechecked all the personnel files and searched for any clues he may have missed. He tossed the latest file he was reading on the table in frustration and watched it slide across the others scattered in front of him. He rubbed his face with his palms and let out a long grunt of exhaustion and disappointment.

"We've gone through everybody," he said, surprised at the tiredness he heard in his voice. "Every office worker, every scientist, every repairman who fixes the toilets. All of them check out except Fujiya. Every. Single. One." He stabbed his finger at a different picture with every word.

"If they are human, they are not Noigel. They will not change, no matter how many times you look into their history," replied Dolim. "If an employee of Amano Heavy Industries is not a Noigel, someone else is."

The thought had occurred to him, but he was convinced the Noigel he was searching for was connected to AHI. Ichihara had seen samples of the metals used by AHI and knew they were Noigel in origin. No human could have invented them. But he also knew Fujiya. He couldn't have manipulated AHI into becoming the manufacturing powerhouse it was now. Fujiya was a soldier, someone used to giving orders, not a plotter or shadow player. That meant someone else at AHI had to be a Noigel. There was no other possibility.

Ichihara gathered up the photos of Takeshi Amano into a pile and searched through them again. If someone not working at AHI was a Noigel, Ichihara needed to broaden his search.

He put the pictures down and took a sip of coffee, almost spitting out the cold liquid. He poured it out and made a fresh cup. There were drinks similar to coffee on his home world, but not quite the same. He had to admit he had grown addicted to the brown drink. Taking his fresh coffee into the living room, he pulled up several videos on his computer: interviews and fluff pieces about Amano. Several were taken at JAXA where Amano and his staff were giving lectures and demonstrations of the new metals that JAXA wanted to incorporate into their next generation rockets and shuttles. He found nothing useful in the videos.

Turning off the computer in disgust, Ichihara decided the next step would be old-fashioned spying.

CHAPTER 6

That night, Ichihara followed Fujiya to Hiroshima Port. He wasn't sure why Fujiya had come here, but where Fujiya went, so did Ichihara. He had found Fujiya's apartment, and after having Dolim change him into something more casual than a business suit, he had taken up residence on the corner opposite of Fujiya's building. Then he played the waiting game.

He had seen Fujiya leave around eight that night. The large alien had taken the streetcar to Hiroshima Port, still dressed in his blue AHI coveralls. Ichihara watched him from the far end of the tram. He knew that Fujiya's battle suit was as capable of changing clothes as his own but thought that Fujiya figured it was easier to wear the same clothes every day if he always played the same role. Fujiya liked simplicity.

When they had departed at the end of the line, Ichihara had followed a discreet distance behind Fujiya, but the other Noigel never looked around him. Ichihara had debated about confronting Fujiya but decided against it. He hated sneaking behind a friend like this, but he needed a look at the bigger picture. If he talked to Fujiya, he would be showing his hand too soon.

Ichihara made his way to a four-story building several hundred meters away. Looking around to make sure he was unseen, he leapt, his battle suit-enhanced strength propelling him onto the roof in a smooth motion. He landed, crouching down, and paused for a moment, listening for any sounds of commotion, then made his way along the roof until he reached the edge. He had a perfect view of the port and watched Fujiya walking towards the docked submarine.

As Fujiya approached the
DSV Kaiyou Infinity
, his clothes morphed into a different set of attire. Then he strode across the gangplank and entered the submarine via the entrance near the conning tower.

What would Fujiya be interested in a submarine for?
Ichihara thought. He debated whether to follow or not. This late at night, he figured most of the crew onboard would be asleep. Fujiya's clothes had been altered to match the uniforms of the sub's crew, and Ichihara didn't have the necessary details to replicate it. He opted for waiting.

About ninety minutes later, Fujiya exited the submarine. Stepping off the gangplank, his clothes morphed back to their usual attire. He slipped a handheld scanner into his pocket. He seemed to be talking aloud to himself.

"He is making a transmission via his battle suit," Dolim said.

"Can you intercept it?"

"Not without his suit detecting it."

Ichihara crawled on his stomach to the edge of the roof. He enhanced his hearing and the audible world grew a thousand-fold. The lap of the nearby water sounded like tidal waves crashing, and the passing of vehicles on the streets roared like F-1 racers. He could hear the sounds of conversations as employees talked to one another, and the gentle pings and thuds of boats at moor bumping against the docks. Ichihara focused on Fujiya, trying to block out the other distracting noises.

"The scans are complete. The submarine will be able to handle the stress." Fujiya stopped talking, listening to the other end of the conversation, presumably the other Noigel on Earth.

A burst of white noise filled Ichihara's head, like the world's largest guitar amp going on the fritz. He managed to stifle his scream of pain, but he clenched his eyes shut and covered his ears with his hands. For another half second the noise continued, a static roar that jolted and tore at him so bad he might have crawled out of his flash skin, to lie exposed on the tar and gravel roof. Then Dolim reacted, turning down his enhanced hearing to human levels.

Rolling onto his side but still covering his ears, he searched for the source of the excruciating blast. It was the air conditioner unit for the building. It had turned on, and the fans and machinery noise and rushing of air had combined to cause a headache-inducing cacophony. Ichihara lay on the roof for a few more moments, gathering his bearings, then rolled on his stomach to resume watching Fujiya.

The conversation had finished during Ichihara's auditory attack. Fujiya now walked towards the general direction of Ichihara's building.

He stayed on top of the roof for ten more minutes, making sure Fujiya had left the port for good. He glanced at the
Kaiyou Infinity
before he jumped off the four story building. He knew that if the Noigel's plans included a submarine, his mission had become more complicated.

"Dolim, find out everything you can about that submarine."

— — —

The next morning, Ichihara followed Fujiya's truck in a cab as it drove to Amano Heavy Industries' main factory on the outskirts of Hiroshima. He ordered the driver to drop him off at the end of the site's grounds. As he passed the front gate, Ichihara saw Fujiya's arm hanging out the driver's side window. A guard at the gate returned Fujiya's ID badge, and the red and white barrier raised up. The cab passed by, and Ichihara's view was cut off by the concrete fence and wire barrier on top of it. The taxi deposited Ichihara and drove off.

Ichihara drummed his fingers on his briefcase, unsure how to proceed. He couldn't loiter in front like he had at Amano's main building; there were no bus stops or taxi stands to aid his cover. He saw security cameras placed every few feet along the top of the wall; some pointed inwards to cover the grounds and some recorded the streets outside.

He crossed the street and continued straight, walking towards the back of the complex. The long wall was unbroken, there were no entrances or exits, either for vehicles or people. He turned at the corner and continued along the back.

He came across a heavy barred sliding gate. The sign stated 'Employee Parking. Authorized Vehicles Only.' He peered through the bars and saw no one around. He didn't find an access button or ticket machine either. A smaller sign attached to the gate said it was open only from 7-9am and 5-8pm.
For now, everyone has to go through the front. Perfect,
he thought.

He made sure the street behind him was deserted, then grabbed the nearest pair of vertical bars. He bent the bars apart with no effort and quickly slid through, then pushed the bars back. They were slightly deformed, but it was barely noticeable.

Inside the complex, he found the main office and walked to it like he belonged at the site. The workers paid him no mind; he was another suit here to do business. His gaze darted everywhere, taking in the layout of the place, but also searching for Fujiya. The site was large with lots of free space, and had three main buildings: the administration building, the shipping building, and the factory itself, which dominated the landscape. It was two stories high, long and rectangular, painted an uninspired gray and white. Solar panels on the roof were angled to catch the most amount of sun. There were numerous smaller satellite buildings: supply sheds, equipment storage, and more. Cars and trucks were parked all over the place, but Ichihara didn't find Fujiya's vehicle, it may be parked on the far side of the delivery building. While there was the continuous noise of vehicles and heavy machinery in motion, Ichihara was surprised at how little noise came from the factory. He had expected it to be rumbling like an oversized semi-truck—a deep ground-shaking rumble—but there was none of that.

He passed through the automatic doors. Inside the cool administration building, he found the receptionist. He put his briefcase on the counter to catch her attention. She looked up at him, a professional fake smile plastered to her mouth. Her eyes told a different story:
Who are you, and what the hell do you want?

Ichihara put on his most disarming smile and reached into his inside jacket pocket, producing a business card. He passed it to her, and she grudgingly accepted.

"I'm Hiroshi Ichihara, an advisor for JAXA. I'm looking for Shota Fujiya. Is he here today?"

"You would have to check in the export building," she replied. "But you must sign in first."

He signed his name in the ledger, and was instructed to an exit on the far side of the building where he would be required to grab a hard hat and wear it at all times while on the premises. Ichihara did so and headed for the shipping building. From here AHI exported all of its finished goods. From his investigations, Ichihara knew Fujiya worked as a delivery worker in the shipping building, moving merchandise out and supplies in, a blue collar worker doing what he was told.
It fits him well
, he thought. Fujiya had been a colonel in the Noigel military and liked following orders. It made sense that such a low level working position was chosen as his cover.

He entered the shipping building; a large open area that held pieces of equipment and machines of various sizes, models and uses. Machine parts were stacked, waiting to be exported. Ichihara wasn't sure what a lot of them were intended for, he wasn't knowledgeable about engineering. Loaders, forklifts, and electric pallet jacks hummed and rumbled their way everywhere, moving metal parts in every direction. But it wasn't chaotic. The vehicles moved at turtle-like speeds, and each worker was always aware of where he was in relation to everything else. Ichihara knew it would be easy to block out the noise, get too focused on your task, and end up being run over by a loader or impaled on the tines of a forklift.

A man in blue coveralls, a hard hat, and carrying a clipboard walked towards him. He realized that he stood out in his three-piece suit. The man raised his voice to be heard over the din of the vehicles. "May I help you?"

"I'm looking for Shota Fujiya. It's urgent that I talk to him," Ichihara said.

"Is he in some kind of trouble?" the man asked, looking him up and down.

I'm not a cop or a loan shark for the yakuza
, Ichihara thought. He gave the man his business card. "I need to talk to him. That's all."

The man nodded and held up a hand. "I'll get him. Wait right here." He walked down the main floor and out of sight.

Ichihara leaned against the wall near the door and waited, watching the choreographed dance of the moving machines. A few minutes later, the man with the clipboard and Fujiya came around a large tube of rolled metal. The man pointed at Ichihara, and Fujiya walked alone up to him. He gave a slight bow in greeting and Ichihara returned it.

"What can I do for you?" he asked in a blunt tone. "I'm a little busy. This had better not take too long."

As straightforward as any soldier
, thought Ichihara. He said, "Can we talk outside?"

Fujiya gestured to the door. He followed Ichihara out then led him to a little snack corner set up with a small bench and two vending machines. Fujiya faced him. "What do you want?"

The corners of Ichihara's mouth turned up into a faint smile. Fujiya wasn't a subtle man. "Colonel Dolok."