Zero Sum Game (8 page)

He turned his head towards her, his eyes held hers, and she could see the desperation that had been hinted at in his voice. He appeared to be around thirty, with a solid build as if he spent a lot of time exercising. Hina's stomach dropped to her feet when the impossible happened: a hole appeared on his arm, its edges ringed in gold. The hole undulated, like a puddle of water had been disturbed. Within the hole she saw organic plating, like armadillo armor. The hole moved up his forearm then disappeared at the elbow, and the man was whole once again.

He opened his mouth to speak. "Hello." The word was tiny and coarse, but when he tried to say something else, Hina heard a clack issue forth, like lobster pinchers snapping closed. "D…don't call the police." A deep gurgle and what sounded like an electric spark come out of his mouth. "Please take this."

He held up the suit in a weak hand and tried to give it to her. His arm shook, then Hina almost screamed as she saw another hole appear. One corner of his jaw disappeared and mottled lizard-like skin replaced human flesh. The hole traveled around his face; where it left, the skin returned to normal, where it traveled, another being's features took its place. When the hole traveled over his left eye, there was nothing but a smooth carapace underneath. As she watched, several more holes flickered in and out of existence.

She want to turn and run. To get away from the man…the thing…the…whatever…in the shrine. His expression of desperation and the sad cracking in his voice stopped her. Despite her terror, Hina kneeled, and he pushed the suit towards her.

"You have to…have to…" The words were lost in another lobster clack and a new sound, like the purring of a jungle cat. Hina saw more small holes opening on various parts of his body.

"Stop," he said.

He pushed the one-piece suit into Hina's hand; it felt like rubber, covered in raised ribs. His hand, full of the suit, closed around hers.

"Stop…"

She expected more words but heard nothing; the man stared at her, unblinking, his hands still. It took Hina a moment to realize the man had died.

She paused, trying to wrap her young mind around what had happened. Then she screamed and bolted from the scene as fast as she could, clutching the suit the dead man had given her.

— — —

Hina ran almost the entire way home. A few blocks from home, a stitch developed in her side and she slowed to a walk. When she saw her apartment, a new burst of energy and fear at what had happened hit her, and she ran up the stairs all the way to the fourth floor. Digging her keys out of her school bag, she entered the apartment and slammed the door behind her, locking it as if the memories of what she had seen had chased her and would come banging on the door, desperate to get at her. But the images were in her head, and she couldn't escape them. She shook as her heart jackhammered. She took off her shoes and went straight to her bedroom, tossing the rubber suit on the bed before sliding her school bag off her back and letting it thump to the floor. She stared at the suit, unable to get the image of the man's arm holding it out to her, holes appearing and disappearing in his flesh, his final breath and unmoving eyes.

She stepped towards the phone in the kitchen when the man's voice echoed in her head:
No police
. She stopped, standing in the middle of her bedroom, eyes closed. The man had been dying, but had wanted her to have the suit. It had been his final wish, and no matter what had been going on in his life to cause him such injuries, he hadn't wanted the police involved. But there was more to it. She had seen fear, but not of dying; more like a fear of leaving something incomplete. He had said, "Stop," but stop what?

She looked at the suit lying on her bed. The man had not wanted her to call the police but had wanted her to have the suit. She would respect his wishes. If the police came, she would answer truthfully; after all, the body would be discovered sooner or later. If his relatives came searching for his belongings and asked to have the suit back, she would give it to them. Until then, she would keep it and remain silent.

She hated keeping secrets, and the thought of not telling anyone, especially her father, stressed her. She let out a cry of frustration and dropped onto her bed face first, she kicked her feet in the air then lay still.
Why me
? she thought.
Why is all this happening to me?
Her parent's divorce, moving to a new apartment, having her purse stolen, seeing a man die and forced to take care of his strange clothes.
Why, why, why?

CHAPTER 8

Shimizu believed that the success of a good covert operation involved getting as close to being a native as possible without becoming one. He was in no danger there, he could never think of these people as anything else than little fish. But he had to look, talk, and act like a human, and that extended to every detail of his persona, including his private residence.

He stood in the living room, his back to the balcony window that overlooked the cityscape. His apartment occupied half of the top floor in the tallest high-rise in Hiroshima, decorated in modern style with black furniture and metal trimmings. His floors were bare, a rug in the front foyer was the only piece of carpeting. On the smooth white walls hung several framed pictures of his favorite Earth animal: the shark. The largest picture, centered above a shelf opposite his leather couch, showcased a mako. Other pictures of sharks—great whites, hammerheads, tigers, and more—adorned the walls of the living room and bedroom. A shark paperweight sat on a glass and metal table. Sharks were an almost perfect predator, he thought. Noigel had bigger and faster sea animals, but none were so streamlined and efficient. Even what some people might consider a weakness, that sharks sank when they stopped swimming, he considered an interesting aspect of their personality, one that mirrored his: they had to keep moving, to always be on the hunt, always planning and stalking. If they stopped, their prey might pass them by. Shimizu pictured himself a shark circling Earth, striking when he was ready.

He sat back in his leather couch and crossed his ankle over his knee, running his thumb over a small smudge on a pant cuff. His wardrobe, like his apartment, was top-of-the-line. After he had arrived on Earth and learned how their monetary system worked, it had been easy to steal money from multiple accounts across the country. In a short time he was wealthy, by human standards, and he bought what he needed to maintain that image. After Amano Heavy Industries began making money, he received a percentage of the profits, thus ensuring he would never run out of money. He stopped thieving from bank accounts; even though he believed he would never get caught, it was better not to chance it, in case the little fish got lucky and traced the thefts to him.

His cell phone rang, and he glanced at the caller's ID. "What is it?" he demanded.

"You'd better come down to the factory. There's a problem only you can handle," Amano said.

The little fish knew better than to order Shimizu in the manner he had done. While Amano wasn't completely subservient, he knew to be respectful. Shimizu increased his hearing. He listened to the rapid mutterings of a group of people in the background. Something had happened, and if Amano was telling him to come down to the factory, it had to be a Noigel-related problem. He hoped nothing had happened to delay Project T. He would tear Amano's skin if it had.

"I'll be right there," he said, and disconnected. He took one last look at the mako shark picture, then grabbed his jacket and briefcase and walked out the door.

— — —

The first thing Shimizu noticed after driving through the entrance gate was the number of employees walking around the grounds, gawking at something he couldn't see yet. He parked his car in front of the administration building and got out, watching a group of employees gathered near the factory building. A small space appeared for a few seconds in the group, and Shimizu saw an overturned truck with heavy damage to the passenger side, as if a crane had hit it. A signpost had been knocked over as well. He strode towards the building's main entrance. A small woman approached him.

"Mr. Amano is in his office, Mr. Shimizu. Please follow me," she said in a rush. She walked back through the doors, glancing over her shoulder every few steps to check if he was following her. She knocked on the door to Amano's office and opened it, sidestepping to let Shimizu pass her.

Amano's office here was much larger than his other at headquarters. This one had a large window looking into the area behind the building, which only showed the factory lot's wall and the occasional Hiroshima building top. Amano slumped in his chair, watching a small TV sitting on a counter while Fujiya stood at attention. Fujiya's presence here puzzled Shimizu, but he would get to that later.

"What's going on?"

Amano pointed a remote control at the TV. "This," he said, and pressed a button.

Shimizu came around the desk and stood behind Amano. The split-screen played security footage from two cameras, the time-lapse created a jumpy stilted effect. As the scene played out, Shimizu watched Fujiya engage in a battle with an unknown assailant, but he could tell the opponent was no human. He recognized the fighting style as one trained in the Noigel military and knew that the man had to be wearing a battle suit; such feats of physical strength were impossible for a human. The top video showed the man being hurled into the white truck, a few moments later the bottom video showed the man rip a signpost from its concrete foundation and hit Fujiya.

Amano paused the tape. "And so on and so forth. At least five different cameras caught some little part of the battle." He put the remote on his desk and talked while Shimizu walked to the front of the desk. "We don't have any eyewitness accounts of the actual fight, but several employees at the factory said they saw him," he pointed at Fujiya, "talk to a man in a gray suit. They walked out of the building and Fujiya wasn't seen again for at least an hour."

Amano glanced over several papers that were scattered on his desktop. "From what I can gather, that was about the time part of Hiroshima lost power when a substation caught on fire." He pointed this comment towards Fujiya.

Shimizu ran a hand through his hair. "Don't say anything to your employees yet. I'll figure this out. For now, get out."

Amano sat there, looking at Shimizu and Fujiya, his face expressionless. Shimizu grabbed a corner of the desk, a heavy thing weighing over a hundred kilograms, and casually tossed it aside. It slid across the tile floor like a puck across a frozen pond. One leg caught the TV's power cord and jerked it to the ground. It crashed, and the glass front shattered. The desk hit the wall with a teeth-rattling bang and bounced back a few centimeters. Shimizu stood in place, towering over Amano, who sat in his chair, gripping the arms. Amano stood up and walked out of the office.

When the door had closed, Shimizu stayed still, trying to calm himself. After a few moments, he faced Fujiya, who hadn't said anything the whole time and stood ramrod straight, like a lieutenant awaiting inspection from his commanding officer. Shimizu let the silence lengthen. He broke it by asking the most obvious, and important, question.

"What happened?"

"A man came here today, asking specifically for me," Fujiya said. "He was a Noigel, a member of the Defiant."

Shimizu spread his arms out, looking around at the room they were in. "And where is he now?"

"I killed him," Fujiya replied.

"You didn't think to bring him to me?"

Fujiya said, "He could have upset our plans. I took what I thought was the best action."

Shimizu almost shouted back a retort but kept his mouth shut. Fujiya was a soldier, he reminded himself; he had made a decision and acted on it, like any officer would have done. "Did you get his name?"

"No," Fujiya said.

Shimizu let out an exasperated breath. "How about his battle suit? Did you at least retrieve that?"

Again, Fujiya answered, "No."

"No name, no battle suit." Shimizu walked to the window that overlooked the parking lot. "Where did you kill him?"

"At the power substation. We caused that fire. The rebel was electrocuted and burned. There was no way the flash skin would have sustained him. After the substation exploded, I left the area and came back here. You know the rest."

Shimizu faced Fujiya again. "What did this Defiant member know?"

"Not much. He saw us at the port but didn't know why we were there. Everything is safe."

Shimizu glared at him. "Are you willing to bet our operation on that?"

Fujiya returned Shimizu's glare with one of his own. "Yes."

Shimizu didn't like that answer but he knew he couldn't get rid of Fujiya, either by sending him back to the Noigel ark or by killing him — his number one choice at the moment — because he needed him. He couldn't complete Project T without Fujiya and Amano. Amano was more dispensable, but Shimizu needed a human ally to facilitate the work, and Fujiya was the muscle he needed to get things done.

Like most military officers in the field, Fujiya tended to act first and think little. He didn't consider the long term like Shimizu did. Fujiya's type of thinking worked well for the military, but not for a covert operation like this that would have powerful long-term consequences. Every detail and decision needed to be analyzed, any small piece of information that could help them complete their mission and save their race had to be considered.

Shimizu couldn't do anything about the dead Defiant member. Unlike the Noigel military, the Defiant couldn't afford to send multiple agents. He was probably working alone. Even if he had found out their plans and transmitted the details back to the Defiant before he died, it would be too late to stop them; the Defiant couldn't send another agent to Earth in time. Project T was close to completion, Shimizu knew. He had no choice but to continue forward and save his people.

"I'm still angry with you about this. It's a situation we don't need. But I can cover it, spin it so as not to raise suspicion. We're too close to stop now. If you say he's dead, he's dead. I've been reading over the newest data about Project T. I believe it's going to work, but we'll need to test it. You'll handle that. Get Amano back in here."