Good Company [Raildex AU]
75% Certain
25% horse thief
I'd punt on that particular one because it'd be regurgitating canon, and not even particularly decent canon. Kiyama Harumi is an interesting character, but that's in spite of her stripping tendencies, not because of them. I mean, I make excuses for the guy, but Kamachi Kazuma relies far too heavily on dumb shit like that to pad his writing, and it's majorly to his detriment. The reason why this became an AU in the first place was because I had to excise his worst offenses (it kind of snowballed from there).
She has a "May You Live In Interesting Times" curse, doesn't she?
There's a bit of fanon speculation that her mother's amulet was the real thing. She always gets in trouble, but always comes out of it unharmed.
Touma somehow avoided bad luck when he had it during the borrowing race and Saten rapidly wound up in a life and death situation.
Episode 2 Part 3
75% Certain
25% horse thief
You sweep the closet door open in a well-practiced motion, firm but just soft enough to keep the old wooden frame from squeaking. There's a mirror inside, and you meet your own eyes. You shift you head, squint a little. There's a disconnect, and you just can't place it. Something that's off, something that's unsettling. It's not like looking into the eyes of a stranger, but...
There's a time for introspection, but it's not today and it's certainly not right now. You shake your head and gather yourself before returning to the task at hand, picking out a pleasant striped t-shirt (coral pink and a pleasant rosy maroon) along with a pair of denim shorts that Kazari was fond of heckling you over. (Which is a pretty solid endorsement, when you think about it.) As an afterthought, you throw a red hoodie over everything. More of your favorite color is never a bad thing.
Says the girl who painted her room blue...
Hopping in the bathroom, you tidy up for a couple minutes to maximize presentability. This is where Akemi or Mako would be over your shoulder complaining about how beauty was a dumb double standard and how men don't need to put in the same amount of work, and... they'd be right, pretty much. It's just not something you personally mind, because you've never seen the investment as wasted time. For you, it's a comforting way to assert some control.
It didn't take long to realize that people would stare at you no matter what you did, so the discovery that you could basically steer how they happened and what they targeted had come as a godsend.
For now, you do your hair up in a ponytail. Between the hoodie and the shorts, this is as far as you're willing to commit to draw attention down and away from your face. You're not sure on why -- maybe that moment by the mirror -- but you'd rather not look anyone in the eyes, even by accident. You cross your fingers and hope the feeling fades before it makes things awkward.
You have a nagging feeling that you've forgotten something important, but you're not gonna waste time trying to figure out what it is. It's not that you're low on time, but you still have a chance of arriving before sunset. Less so if you dawdle here. You are many things, but 'creature of the night' is not one of them.
(Incidentally, you're amused that 'creature' is far more flattering than 'lady' in this instance. Bothered, but amused.)
Double-timing it, you cover the distance to Red Cross station rapidly, and you don't have to wait long for a train in the main transfer hub of the south. On the short hop from Red Cross to Stressemann, where the South Line meets the East Line, you get a message from Kuroko.
Disappointingly, it's already dark when you exit the station at 6:55.
District 5 isn't a very pretty place. Much like south 7, buildings are functional but rarely elegant or even very tall, by Academy City standards. Despite being on street-level, you can make out the tops of some of north District 7's tallest buildings a couple kilometers to the northeast, and you're pretty sure that you can make out the shorter Windowless Building almost directly east.
The people, however, are quite a colorful bunch. Students from District 7 tend to have a dim view of District 5, but even they readily admit that it's a great place to go for the nightlife, and they turn out in droves. Friday night only magnifies that effect.
Nobody hits on you while you walk by, which is pretty nice of them.
It doesn't actually take long to find the "Goodnight Loving" and discover that it is actually a real bar with that name and not an amazingly elaborate ruse of some sort, and you're not sure how to feel about that. Like most things worth caring about, it's in the ground floor of a modest tower. Inside, it's decorated in a strongly rustic style, with brown used anywhere brown can go and leather given distinct preference.
The atmosphere inside is surprisingly tense. You're at the approximate midpoint between the competing sides, and it shows; the crowd tonight is split almost evenly between the dark-red and black of BC Yoshiki and the pink and white of CB Santiago.
Yoshiki is the club with the most supporters, thanks to being the only real contender from District 7. Even on off years (as a sixth-seed, '88 certainly qualifies), they never really suffer for attendance. Santiago hails from the more sparsely-populated, but they have a history of success that endows their brand with an enviable pedigree.
That's not to say that it's all red and pink; you see the blue and gold of the nearby von Euler represented, along with a smattering of others. A good portion of the guests are wearing more typical attire, the usual Academy City mix of attention-getting designs, enticing labels, and uniforms signifying high-class schools.
What you're looking for is Red Cross kit, which is a little aggravating to find in a sea of Yoshikis. For a second, you contemplate the scary thought that you might have beaten Shunichi here. You walk up to the elevated seating, hoping that the extra couple decimeters will help you see over the assemblage of taller people, only to be pleasantly surprised to find him parked at a table there with a commanding view of the massive screen on the opposite wall.
Across from him is someone unfamiliar. He's closer to Shunichi's age than yours -- maybe a year or two older -- but not physically imposing. You'd call him skinny, but there's muscle definition lurking under his polo shirt. His hair is brown and curly in a way that brings Michelangelo's David to mind, although you recognize that it's an objectively bad comparison. Impressive, if not exactly your cup of tea.
Shunichi spots you quickly enough and breaks off conversation. "Ruiko, I'm glad you could join us. This is Gideon. Gideon, Ruiko."
"A pleasure," he says, voice carrying more baritone than you expected.
You take a seat. "Sorry, didn't mean to interrupt."
"Oh, you didn't," Shunichi assures. "We were just talking books. Specifically one I've recently read, The Unlucky Man, by Shono Nanami. Have you read it?"
"I have," you admit, as Shunichi leans forward in keen interest. Gideon shifts ion his seat. "I had a friend recommend it to me. It was a total waste of time, and I have no clue what she saw in it. Or what anyone did. There's no real plot, just a meandering drawl from one encounter to the next. The protagonist is as interesting and lively as a cracker, because the author apparently thinks that 'being unlucky' is a character trait. Also, what's up with all the girls?! I mean, it's not like some super-secret that Academy City leans female, but it's ridiculous that the only other men are bit characters. I'd like to have both choice and some emotional depth, but c'mon, is it that hard to include just one of them? And then...." you trail off. "What's so funny?"
The guys can't take anymore, and they're both doubled over in laughter. "I think... I think... the author might have a rebuttal she wants to deliver," Shunishi manages.
"Iiiiiis she standing right behind me?"
He nods. "Through a small miracle of timing, yes. I made a gamble and I regret nothing."
"Does the author need to be more careful leaving you kids alone?" she sing-songs, floating over to the fourth empty seat. Guessing, you'd say that she's slightly shorter than you but almost certainly older, around Gideon's age. Her hair is a wavy green, and done up in a way that obscures its length. She's not dressed with impressing in mind, going by the form-concealing blazer she wears that's so far from flashy that it probably doesn't come from a uniform.
"Uh, I, ahhh--" you stumble, looking for some way to recover.
She rolls her eyes. "You're not in any trouble. Hell, I pretty much agree with you. I wrote that book under a new pen name because I wanted to try and branch out into a different genre. What ended up happening is that it got rushed because another title fell through, and my publisher pushed it out early to fill the void. I'm as amazed as you are that people actually liked it; The Unlucky Man is a travesty to the written word and I dread the possibility of being pressured into writing a sequel.
"Still, part of me adores the idea of starting a new successful series of my own, even if the first volume is trash. I've been writing the Fixture in the Firmament series for three years now, but it wasn't my brainchild. No, I was just lucky enough to be tapped for the open spot by the publishing house after I impressed them with my first manuscript."
You slowly nod your head in realization. "Shono Nanami and Horigome Nanami are the same person... it seems so weird, but it does make a frightening amount of sense. I hated The Unlucky Man, but it that's because the plot was bad, not the writing."
"I'm Shiloh," she says with a smile. "You must be Ruiko. Shunichi was telling us about you."
Not exactly sure how to react to that idea, you don't. "Shi-loh." You tease the name in your mouth, as though sampling a strange food. You try to place where it's from, but nothing comes to mind.
"Weird name, innit?" Gideon speaks up with a wry grin. "Sometimes I call her Stones Creek or Chickamauga instead -- same thing, I figure -- but she gets all huffy about it."
She gives him The Look before turning back to you. "This oaf is my husband, Gideon."
"C-c-congratulations," you stammer, unsure of what else to say.
Shiloh gives a good-natured laugh. "Oh, please, it's nothing new. We're actually celebrating our third anniversary tomorrow. Tonight, we're celebrating a major breakthrough at work."
"A new novel?" You guess, before a waiter interrupts you to take a drink order.
They're swamped, so the service is pretty sluggish. Dwelling on it for a moment, you decide against ordering anything alcoholic. There's a time and a place to give it a try, but it's neither now nor here nor involving present company. Gideon and Shiloh binge on a Painted Face each, Shunichi inexplicably settles for a glass of Simon Spies, and you choose a nonalcoholic Kikuchi Lime, something you've had once before and enjoyed.
You're not the only one to notice. Shiloh gives him an exaggerated 'what-the-fuck-dude' look. "Really? Simon Spies? We're here celebrating, and you're ruining the mood. What's next, going to the Riv and ordering Mutiny?!"
He throws up his hands in mock-defense. "Whoa, easy there! God forbid I support my local ciderhouse and get a good deal while doing it! More importantly, don't you two have a bet to settle?"
"I don't have an clue what you're talking about," Gideon says at his most stony-faced.
"Oh hey now, don't play dumb. You two do this every time, and I've cottoned on. Let's just let in all hang loose."
"Setting aside how inappropriate that sounds," Gideon replies, "I get the feeling you're trying to push the outcome in a certain direction."
Shunichi leans back. "As if it was ever in doubt."
Gideon sighs and looks at Shiloh. "Congrats, love, you're the runaway winner. One day, I'll pick 'over' and I won't regret it, but not today. Noooot today."
"I know, right?" Shiloh nods furiously. "She's seriously cute. It's pretty crazy."
You look at Shunichi, wordlessly demanding an explanation, which he delivers. "It's a game they play at my expense, not yours. Whenever they get wind that I'm spending time with a girl, they pester me for details and then bet on whether I'm overselling or underselling her. It's a little tiresome, but they're getting back at me for something a said to Gideon back when they were first dating. If you're wondering, I just said that you were pretty enough to leave an impression. I do have a regard for dignity, unlike soooome people I might name. Gideon. Shiloh."
They banter for a little more before your drinks arrive and Shiloh realizes that she never answered your question from earlier. "Sorry, Ruiko, I should have remembered. I do have a book coming out soon, but I think of writing as a side job more than anything. Gideon and I help manage a research firm, and our major project has just been cleared to advance to the next, pivotal stage. I'd explain more, but we're covered in NDAs up to our eyeballs."
A cheer erupts as the game begins, and both sides start breaking into song, trying to carry their own musical chant higher than the other. It suddenly becomes very hard to hold a conversation, and the waiter has to lean in just to hear what you want for your meal. Instead, the four of you just sit back and enjoy the game.
You're not super wrapped-up in the outcome (Shinshiro, after all, is on the other side of the bracket this year), but it's always a pleasure to watch the best players operate at the top of their game. Yoshiki's Wolfgang Wiegand sets the pace early on, as he quickly settles into a two-man game with Abd-al Rashid Paquet in the post, with Santiago's Titus McClain dropping his defensive rotation two possessions in a row. (His coach is screaming at him so loudly that you're half-convinced you'd still hear him without the television.
Fortunately for Santiago, they strike an offensive rhythm of their own soon enough, when it becomes apparent that Emre Accorsi cannot miss from the three-point line tonight, and Yoshiki just doesn't have an answer on defense. Hyata Rei even tries to close the gap on him, using his magnificent length to try and interfere, but Accorsi somehow manages to contort his way into a shooting foul and the chance for a four-point play. (He misses the free throw.)
The crowd by now is too occupied with chewing their fingernails to chant constantly, so you can actually hear other people talk between the loud cheers that accompany a basket or major play. Shunichi's actually played on the same court as these people, so he starts adding in his own person insights when ambient volume allows. Some of it is only thinly related to basketball, like Yoshiki's starting point guard Jahangir Ganza's mortal fear of bats. You idly presume that there's a story lurking behind that tidbit.
The food is actually a little disappointing. Given the whole theme of the place, you were expecting someone more exotically rustic, but it turns out to be pretty standard fare for Academy City, obviously owing more to science than to the grill. You get the sense that the others agree.
As the game starts to slip away from Yoshiki, the place becomes cacophonous again; Santiago's supporters get louder and rowdier as the separation grows. You consider it to be a minor miracle that the two sides are willing to keep some physical distance between them. Bar brawls between hooligans are fine in fiction, but you'd rather not be caught up in a real one.
You're glad you're on the same side of the table as Shunichi, because not only is he conveniently placed to block any projectiles from below, but he's also close enough to talk in your ear and physically point out things that you might have missed, like how Santiago's Idane Yusuke has a stutter-step move that seems to totally confound Ganza on what seems like every possession, and yet Essa Sass never falls for it once while ball-handling for the second unit.
Although you're more interested in how you end up with a name like 'Essa Sass' to begin with.
Late in the third, things are rather dire for Yoshiki. You don't realize just how bad it is until ACCESS (that is, Academy City Central Entertainment and Sporting Service) flashes a graphic on the broadcast pointing out that Santiago is on a nasty 25-8 run over the last 10 minutes. The atmosphere has cooled considerably, and a decent amount of the red-and-black brigade have skipped the joint in disgust, leaving Santiago's faithful to hold the field.
That's about when you notice some commotion going on. You have trouble making out what's being said, but a small group of patrons are rather vividly trying to convince the owner of something. They're working their way closer, which gradually lets you hear bits of the conversation: They're wanting him to change the channel to Yotsuba (the name of her show is 'The Pulse,' but everyone calls it 'Yotsuba' anyway) while he insists on sticking with the game. That abruptly changes when one of the patrons shoves her phone in his face. His expression does a full 180.
A few seconds later, and he's switched the channel on all the screens in the house, eliciting a wave of 'what the fuck man come on' sentiment from the assembled. Which fades away rather quickly, as their attention is drawn by what's being said in the interview.
"--is absolutely true, and I stand by it," says a man in a nice suit. Yotsuba is rather famous for obtaining interviews with the sort of serious-business adult types who wouldn't ordinarily give students the time of day, and this man fits the mold.
The shot expands to show Yotsuba herself, seated in a white chair immediately to his left on the elevated part of her set. She's practically a waif, and looks thin and brittle under that long brown hair of hers. From appearances alone, you'd be hard-pressed to pin her as the single most widely-respected student in Academy City.
Certainly, the juxtaposition she draws with the current subject of her interview is magnificent. A tall and broad man of Hispanic descent (In fact, he brings to mind the current American president), he fits into the archetype of masculine authority like Cinderella in a glass slipper.
You share a glace with the others at your table, and it's clear that none of them recognize him either.
"What you've claimed so far has shocked the studio audience and -- I must assume -- the viewers at home as well." Yotsuba has elevated simple speech to an art form, and hews the perfect balance of intonation that can shift between rhapsodic and restrained without feeling artificial or unprofessional, but you suppose that's just one of the perks that comes with being a literal mind reader. "The rational response is no doubt to be skepticism. After all, this is Academy City; extravagant claims are ever-present, and few are ever borne out to be true."
He laughs. "You might be surprised. As for my credentials, I think that I can speak authoritatively as to 'Level Upper' by virtue of being one of its original architects. The 'Level Upper' program which was spread among the student population was build on groundwork prepared by years of rigorous study and investigation, but the program itself was shoddily made and hastily composed. By releasing it like she did, Kiyama Harumi callously placed the lives of tens of thousands of students at dire risk. Even now, we're still working to understand the long-term effects that 'Level Upper' will have on the cerebral physiology and neural development of those who were snared by her trap. Kiyama Harumi is a menace and a monster, and history will remember her as such.
"However, I'm not here to speak about Kiyama Harumi. Rather, I'm here to say something that most of you are probably aware of already: the Board of Directors that rules over this city has collectively resolved to reveal as little information on the incident as possible to the student population. For those of you already accustomed to Academy City's stringent commitment to secrecy, this is just a matter of course and certainly no surprise. You'll no doubt be angry when I tell you that the official policy is to lie to the victims of Level Upper with a false assurance that long-term physiological consequences are out of the question... but it's nothing that you couldn't have guessed on your own.
"The reality, I'm afraid, is much worse than you've accounted for. It's perfectly sensible to guard secrets closely to hinder the espionage that Academy City is often subject to, but this blanket level of censorship afforded to research conducted here has allowed a culture of ethical bankruptcy and outright exploitation to thrive in the depths of our scientific community. For example, I've discovered that an experiment loosely related to what would later become Level Upper was terminated after the accidental deaths of 35 test subjects... none of whom were older than ten at the time. This occurrence was buried."
"That's not to say that scientists in this city are to be distrusted of feared, far from it! The majority of them -- the vast majority -- are upstanding intellectuals who would never place the pursuit of knowledge above a human cost. The danger lies in the wolves among the fold, those who view research as a means to personal power. Even now, they act with impunity to destroy those who stand in their way. No matter how the Directorate chooses to justify their policy of silence, the simple fact of the matter is that they're supporting and enabling the very ones who are destroying our city from within."
The audience's reaction is one of palpable shock, but Yotsuba doesn't seem to be effected in the slightest. "This is the part where I'm no doubt expected to prod you with questions about how such a massive and unprecedented claim can be made with such certainty and why you expect us to trust you, but it should be obvious enough that I didn't invite you on this show as an unannounced guest without awareness of what you're here to say and a great deal of consideration on my own part.
"Everything that Dr. Stefanos Martinez has said is accurate. Academy City is beset by a malady that dwells within the shadows of our beloved home, and it is our duty as citizens to cast a light into that darkness. I know that many of you have come to regard this show as a plumb line amidst a confusing and often contradictory barrage of rumors, assumptions, and far too many lies... I'm greatly honored, and humbled by your trust. Over these last three years, I've done my best to keep a soft touch and introduce you to information without pressuring you so view it in a certain light, but today, I think it's time for an exception.
"To all of you out there, I'm making a request. Dispense with your jadedness. Dispense with your apathy. Jettison your ignorance. As students, we're guilty of convincing ourselves that our voices are insignificant, that they will never be heard. You're wrong. There's a reason that this broadcast hasn't been cut off already: the Board of Directors are unable and unwilling to silence me, because they know that such an action will carry dire consequences.
"I'm just one girl, and there are two million of you." The audience erupts in applause, but she continues. "Academy City is a beacon of light in a penumbral world. It's my greatest love, the home of my heart. Yet, too many of us have forgotten what makes this city great. It's not our scientists or our economy or our influence, and it certainly is not the Directorate that govern us. No, the greatness here lies solely within each and every student inside of the wall. We export vision, we export purpose. We change the world. Without all of us, Academy City would be nothing more than a glorified research park. I think the time has come for us to remind those in power about this."
If the mood in the studio is incendiary, it has nothing on what's going on around you now. Yotsuba made a name for herself by catching Academy City officials in uncomfortable positions and forcing them to make changes, but this is above and beyond everything else. If Yotsuba had been lionized before, this just made her untouchable.
However, you're a little preoccupied with flashing back to your follow-up appointment where a doctor that you've never met before or since reassured you that the effects of Level Upper were purely transient and would fade without a trace after a couple weeks.
It had been a lot to swallow, that something so profound and so violating would just poof out of existence as though tapped by a magic wand, but Academy City is the city of miracles, right? Surely, you'd seen stranger things before!
It was a lie. Of course it was a lie. Why would they care what happens to a Level Zero, anyway? Maybe if they left it untreated, there would even be something interesting to learn!
"--Ruiko, earth to Ruiko?" Shunichi was leaning in, looking worried. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing much," you admit, "just hoping I don't have brain damage."
Shunichi frowns. "Well, after a fiasco like this, I imagine they're gonna be forced to deliver proper care to... wait, you were effected by Level Upper?" Unlike most people who ask, he does it without the faint tone of judgment that never fails to sting.
Well, no point in denying it. "I was. When the coma took me, it was the most terrifying moment of my life."
Shiloh shares a meaningful look with Gideon before turning to address you. "How would you like a job?"
You almost spit out your drink. "I'm sorry?!"
"I realize after what you just heard, you might be a little reluctant," she admits sheepishly, "but we're in need of a subject to test-run a device we've been working on."
"You're right," you deadpan, "after what I heard, I am a little reluctant. No offense."
She laughs nervously. "None taken, but I hope you're willing to hear us out a little."
You nod. "I can do that."
Gideon fields this one. "Yotsuba is absolutely correct: Academy City is suffering from a disease, but it's a far more fundamental one. They need espers to use their abilities regularly to be able to improve them, and they've discovered that the best way to develop your powers -- by a wide margin -- is to use them in combat, or a similar high-stakes atmosphere. Because of this, the Directorate faces a perverse incentive to create just enough unrest in Academy City so that there will never be a shortage of conflict involving espers. In all likelihood, Skill-Out is allowed to exist and thrive so that they'll always present a convenient punching bag.
"We want to make this paradigm obsolete, and to that end we've prototyped a virtual-reality interface that allows you to use your abilities to their fullest extent in a safe environment that can be tailored to your needs, moment-by-moment."
"Well, that's the part of it we're most excited about," Shiloh adds, "but the possibilities are astounding."
"That's cool and all," you chuckle, "but it sounds like you should really as a Level Three or Level Four. I'm just a Zero, so I don't think I can be of much help. Besides, I used Level Upper. Shouldn't you test it on someone who isn't at risk of brain damage?"
Shiloh shakes her head rapidly. "You're wrong, wrong, wrong. A Level Zero is perfect, because if this can't prompt growth from Zeroes, it will never gain enough traction to drive any kind of real change in the city."
"As for Level Upper," Gideon provides, "Dr. Martinez is mistaken. We actually do have a good handle on the long-term consequences of its usage, and it's nothing so dire as you're fearing. I'll spare you the technical explanation, but the imprint left by Level Upper has much the same effect for a AIM scan as a radiocontrast agent does for a CT scan. Finding a subject with this condition is actually a best-case scenario for us, odd as it may seem."
"A subject? How many will there be?"
"Only one," Shiloh admits, "aside from early calibration tests that the researchers have done themselves. We wouldn't ask you to entrust your head to anything we hadn't dogfood-tested ourselves, so to speak."
Dogfood tested? Huh? You push aside mental images of virtual researchers eating dogfood, mostly because you don't have a clear image of what dogs actually eat. Bones, maybe? "A job, you say?"
Shiloh nods. "The compensation will be generous, and you'd get to set your own hours -- within reason, anyway."
You look away. "It sounds like a lot to commit to."
"It is," Gideon agrees. "We don't need a yes or no from you tonight, but if you're interested," he hands you a card, "stop by our lab tomorrow and we can show you around, so you'll have a clear idea of what it is we're offering you. We get off lunch at 1:30, so that'd probably be the best time."
"I'll consider it," you say listlessly, staring at the address. "Sorry I'm not giving you a more clear answer, it's just been a crazy day and I really need to sleep on it."
Shiloh gives you a half-cocked grin of commiseration. "We've all been there."
Shunichi smiles. "It's getting late, and the world has apparently gone mad. I suppose it's unlikely we'll stumble onto an esper insurrection, but one can never be too careful. Would you allow me the privilege of escorting you home?"
"Whaddya think, would I need an escort for my escort?" you ask Gideon and Shiloh.
"You'll be fine," Gideon says with a dismissive wave.
Shiloh concurs. "He's mostly harmless. You should see him try to draw a foul; a small child could stop him dead."
Shunichi's paying, so you take another drink and an appetizer to go and fill the last few minutes with small talk, before saying your farewells to your two new acquaintances. True to his word, Shunichi goes into full gentleman mode, holding doors and even dusting off a metro seat for you. It would be patronizing if he wasn't obviously putting on a tongue-in-cheek comedy show, so you take it in the spirit it's clearly meant.
Still, you'd be lying if you didn't feel a little rosy when he glares at a handful of guys who are just obviously ogling you. It's great that he cares, but you do wish that men like that would back off when you glared at them, instead of just getting bolder.
When you arrive at Red Cross station, he does something really spectacular: he calls a taxi. There are fewer than 7000 student drivers in Academy City -- and literally no adult drivers willing and/or permitted to drive taxis. Short supply and high demand left it as the most expensive means of transportation short of buying a car of your own, and well outside of your own means.
A lavishly-appointed Studebaker Chancellor whisks the pair of you away within minutes, and you're positively giddy. "I don't think you know this, but I really love cars." You don't explicitly point out how much of an understatement this is, but he can probably guess from the way you're nearly drooling over the upholstery.
"If you want, we can go for a joy ride," he offer.
You go saucer-eyed as your miserly brain-circuits fry themselves. The nested Cs that represent Academy City's currency occupy your vision before crumbling into a nuclear fireball, erased from existence. They died so young! "That'd be like wasting a year of my stipend." It's only a slight exaggeration.
"Well, it's my money to waste..." he trails off, leaving the offer to take or leave.
It's a very tempting offer. Buuuut... "Maybe I'll take you up on your ridiculous and stupid offer some other night, but I wasn't kidding when I said it's been a crazy day. I should get some sleep."
You're already at your dorm, the 15-minute walk reduced to an effortless two. You manage to stop Shunichi before he can get out and open your door for you. It's a nice gesture, really, but he's done enough. Instead, he makes do with a warm smile. "Next time, then. Take care, Ruiko."
As you return to your home, you reflect on the fact that you've basically committed to a 'next time.' You're slightly surprised by how little that bothers you.
Ah well, life will still be here tomorrow. Maybe it'll start making sense.
Saten Ruiko
Current Mood: Exhausted
[ ] Take Gideon and Shiloh up on their offer to show you around, see what all the fuss is about.
[ ] Find something else to do; it's not like you're lacking options.
QM's Corner
I have a lot to say, so I'm probably gonna forget to say most of it. First, apologies for the monumental delay. I got a new computer that can play games without melting, so that's occupied a good bit of my time. The rest was by and large the process of actually writing this, because it's one hell of a massive update and I put it off at a couple points when I hit a snag while writing.
Overall, I'd say that the brainstorming delays were beneficial.
You've probably noticed the lack of objectives, and that's because I realized that what I originally had planned for them wouldn't work nearly as well as I'd hoped. I'm open for suggestions on how to bring them back.
I've officially decided on the format I'm going to follow, which involves three-part episodes with shorter interludes interspersed. Hopefully, this will allow me to plat ahead to a respectable degree while still allowing for voting to wildly sway the outcome. (It goes without saying that I'm aiming for and and/or better choices in the near future.)
I still plan on this being a "short" quest (for a given definition of "short"), which means that it will have a limited number of episodes before I move on to a sequel.
I'm quite interested to hear your thoughts on the writing, pacing, story elements, etc. It's obvious enough that Good Company would practically be at home in UFic, and it follows that I'm very much open to UFic-style comments.
There's a time for introspection, but it's not today and it's certainly not right now. You shake your head and gather yourself before returning to the task at hand, picking out a pleasant striped t-shirt (coral pink and a pleasant rosy maroon) along with a pair of denim shorts that Kazari was fond of heckling you over. (Which is a pretty solid endorsement, when you think about it.) As an afterthought, you throw a red hoodie over everything. More of your favorite color is never a bad thing.
Says the girl who painted her room blue...
Hopping in the bathroom, you tidy up for a couple minutes to maximize presentability. This is where Akemi or Mako would be over your shoulder complaining about how beauty was a dumb double standard and how men don't need to put in the same amount of work, and... they'd be right, pretty much. It's just not something you personally mind, because you've never seen the investment as wasted time. For you, it's a comforting way to assert some control.
It didn't take long to realize that people would stare at you no matter what you did, so the discovery that you could basically steer how they happened and what they targeted had come as a godsend.
For now, you do your hair up in a ponytail. Between the hoodie and the shorts, this is as far as you're willing to commit to draw attention down and away from your face. You're not sure on why -- maybe that moment by the mirror -- but you'd rather not look anyone in the eyes, even by accident. You cross your fingers and hope the feeling fades before it makes things awkward.
You have a nagging feeling that you've forgotten something important, but you're not gonna waste time trying to figure out what it is. It's not that you're low on time, but you still have a chance of arriving before sunset. Less so if you dawdle here. You are many things, but 'creature of the night' is not one of them.
(Incidentally, you're amused that 'creature' is far more flattering than 'lady' in this instance. Bothered, but amused.)
Double-timing it, you cover the distance to Red Cross station rapidly, and you don't have to wait long for a train in the main transfer hub of the south. On the short hop from Red Cross to Stressemann, where the South Line meets the East Line, you get a message from Kuroko.
It occurs to you that you're asking for advise on alcohol from a 12-year-old. What is this, France? You should at least find someone who's 14.
You have no intention of telling her that you were in fact accosted in an alley.
By now, the train is pulling into the station. It's easy enough to change platforms and prepare for the next northbound arrival.
You almost leave it at that, but something that you said earlier is nagging at you. Friends don't need to bear burdens alone, huh?
You sigh. At least she's self-aware about it. You shoot back a quick agreement and relax to music for the rest of the trip. About eight minutes later, the train arrives at H.C. Brown East, the closest station to your destination.
Disappointingly, it's already dark when you exit the station at 6:55.
District 5 isn't a very pretty place. Much like south 7, buildings are functional but rarely elegant or even very tall, by Academy City standards. Despite being on street-level, you can make out the tops of some of north District 7's tallest buildings a couple kilometers to the northeast, and you're pretty sure that you can make out the shorter Windowless Building almost directly east.
The people, however, are quite a colorful bunch. Students from District 7 tend to have a dim view of District 5, but even they readily admit that it's a great place to go for the nightlife, and they turn out in droves. Friday night only magnifies that effect.
Nobody hits on you while you walk by, which is pretty nice of them.
It doesn't actually take long to find the "Goodnight Loving" and discover that it is actually a real bar with that name and not an amazingly elaborate ruse of some sort, and you're not sure how to feel about that. Like most things worth caring about, it's in the ground floor of a modest tower. Inside, it's decorated in a strongly rustic style, with brown used anywhere brown can go and leather given distinct preference.
The atmosphere inside is surprisingly tense. You're at the approximate midpoint between the competing sides, and it shows; the crowd tonight is split almost evenly between the dark-red and black of BC Yoshiki and the pink and white of CB Santiago.
Yoshiki is the club with the most supporters, thanks to being the only real contender from District 7. Even on off years (as a sixth-seed, '88 certainly qualifies), they never really suffer for attendance. Santiago hails from the more sparsely-populated, but they have a history of success that endows their brand with an enviable pedigree.
That's not to say that it's all red and pink; you see the blue and gold of the nearby von Euler represented, along with a smattering of others. A good portion of the guests are wearing more typical attire, the usual Academy City mix of attention-getting designs, enticing labels, and uniforms signifying high-class schools.
What you're looking for is Red Cross kit, which is a little aggravating to find in a sea of Yoshikis. For a second, you contemplate the scary thought that you might have beaten Shunichi here. You walk up to the elevated seating, hoping that the extra couple decimeters will help you see over the assemblage of taller people, only to be pleasantly surprised to find him parked at a table there with a commanding view of the massive screen on the opposite wall.
Across from him is someone unfamiliar. He's closer to Shunichi's age than yours -- maybe a year or two older -- but not physically imposing. You'd call him skinny, but there's muscle definition lurking under his polo shirt. His hair is brown and curly in a way that brings Michelangelo's David to mind, although you recognize that it's an objectively bad comparison. Impressive, if not exactly your cup of tea.
Shunichi spots you quickly enough and breaks off conversation. "Ruiko, I'm glad you could join us. This is Gideon. Gideon, Ruiko."
"A pleasure," he says, voice carrying more baritone than you expected.
You take a seat. "Sorry, didn't mean to interrupt."
"Oh, you didn't," Shunichi assures. "We were just talking books. Specifically one I've recently read, The Unlucky Man, by Shono Nanami. Have you read it?"
"I have," you admit, as Shunichi leans forward in keen interest. Gideon shifts ion his seat. "I had a friend recommend it to me. It was a total waste of time, and I have no clue what she saw in it. Or what anyone did. There's no real plot, just a meandering drawl from one encounter to the next. The protagonist is as interesting and lively as a cracker, because the author apparently thinks that 'being unlucky' is a character trait. Also, what's up with all the girls?! I mean, it's not like some super-secret that Academy City leans female, but it's ridiculous that the only other men are bit characters. I'd like to have both choice and some emotional depth, but c'mon, is it that hard to include just one of them? And then...." you trail off. "What's so funny?"
The guys can't take anymore, and they're both doubled over in laughter. "I think... I think... the author might have a rebuttal she wants to deliver," Shunishi manages.
"Iiiiiis she standing right behind me?"
He nods. "Through a small miracle of timing, yes. I made a gamble and I regret nothing."
"Does the author need to be more careful leaving you kids alone?" she sing-songs, floating over to the fourth empty seat. Guessing, you'd say that she's slightly shorter than you but almost certainly older, around Gideon's age. Her hair is a wavy green, and done up in a way that obscures its length. She's not dressed with impressing in mind, going by the form-concealing blazer she wears that's so far from flashy that it probably doesn't come from a uniform.
"Uh, I, ahhh--" you stumble, looking for some way to recover.
She rolls her eyes. "You're not in any trouble. Hell, I pretty much agree with you. I wrote that book under a new pen name because I wanted to try and branch out into a different genre. What ended up happening is that it got rushed because another title fell through, and my publisher pushed it out early to fill the void. I'm as amazed as you are that people actually liked it; The Unlucky Man is a travesty to the written word and I dread the possibility of being pressured into writing a sequel.
"Still, part of me adores the idea of starting a new successful series of my own, even if the first volume is trash. I've been writing the Fixture in the Firmament series for three years now, but it wasn't my brainchild. No, I was just lucky enough to be tapped for the open spot by the publishing house after I impressed them with my first manuscript."
You slowly nod your head in realization. "Shono Nanami and Horigome Nanami are the same person... it seems so weird, but it does make a frightening amount of sense. I hated The Unlucky Man, but it that's because the plot was bad, not the writing."
"I'm Shiloh," she says with a smile. "You must be Ruiko. Shunichi was telling us about you."
Not exactly sure how to react to that idea, you don't. "Shi-loh." You tease the name in your mouth, as though sampling a strange food. You try to place where it's from, but nothing comes to mind.
"Weird name, innit?" Gideon speaks up with a wry grin. "Sometimes I call her Stones Creek or Chickamauga instead -- same thing, I figure -- but she gets all huffy about it."
She gives him The Look before turning back to you. "This oaf is my husband, Gideon."
"C-c-congratulations," you stammer, unsure of what else to say.
Shiloh gives a good-natured laugh. "Oh, please, it's nothing new. We're actually celebrating our third anniversary tomorrow. Tonight, we're celebrating a major breakthrough at work."
"A new novel?" You guess, before a waiter interrupts you to take a drink order.
They're swamped, so the service is pretty sluggish. Dwelling on it for a moment, you decide against ordering anything alcoholic. There's a time and a place to give it a try, but it's neither now nor here nor involving present company. Gideon and Shiloh binge on a Painted Face each, Shunichi inexplicably settles for a glass of Simon Spies, and you choose a nonalcoholic Kikuchi Lime, something you've had once before and enjoyed.
You're not the only one to notice. Shiloh gives him an exaggerated 'what-the-fuck-dude' look. "Really? Simon Spies? We're here celebrating, and you're ruining the mood. What's next, going to the Riv and ordering Mutiny?!"
He throws up his hands in mock-defense. "Whoa, easy there! God forbid I support my local ciderhouse and get a good deal while doing it! More importantly, don't you two have a bet to settle?"
"I don't have an clue what you're talking about," Gideon says at his most stony-faced.
"Oh hey now, don't play dumb. You two do this every time, and I've cottoned on. Let's just let in all hang loose."
"Setting aside how inappropriate that sounds," Gideon replies, "I get the feeling you're trying to push the outcome in a certain direction."
Shunichi leans back. "As if it was ever in doubt."
Gideon sighs and looks at Shiloh. "Congrats, love, you're the runaway winner. One day, I'll pick 'over' and I won't regret it, but not today. Noooot today."
"I know, right?" Shiloh nods furiously. "She's seriously cute. It's pretty crazy."
You look at Shunichi, wordlessly demanding an explanation, which he delivers. "It's a game they play at my expense, not yours. Whenever they get wind that I'm spending time with a girl, they pester me for details and then bet on whether I'm overselling or underselling her. It's a little tiresome, but they're getting back at me for something a said to Gideon back when they were first dating. If you're wondering, I just said that you were pretty enough to leave an impression. I do have a regard for dignity, unlike soooome people I might name. Gideon. Shiloh."
They banter for a little more before your drinks arrive and Shiloh realizes that she never answered your question from earlier. "Sorry, Ruiko, I should have remembered. I do have a book coming out soon, but I think of writing as a side job more than anything. Gideon and I help manage a research firm, and our major project has just been cleared to advance to the next, pivotal stage. I'd explain more, but we're covered in NDAs up to our eyeballs."
A cheer erupts as the game begins, and both sides start breaking into song, trying to carry their own musical chant higher than the other. It suddenly becomes very hard to hold a conversation, and the waiter has to lean in just to hear what you want for your meal. Instead, the four of you just sit back and enjoy the game.
You're not super wrapped-up in the outcome (Shinshiro, after all, is on the other side of the bracket this year), but it's always a pleasure to watch the best players operate at the top of their game. Yoshiki's Wolfgang Wiegand sets the pace early on, as he quickly settles into a two-man game with Abd-al Rashid Paquet in the post, with Santiago's Titus McClain dropping his defensive rotation two possessions in a row. (His coach is screaming at him so loudly that you're half-convinced you'd still hear him without the television.
Fortunately for Santiago, they strike an offensive rhythm of their own soon enough, when it becomes apparent that Emre Accorsi cannot miss from the three-point line tonight, and Yoshiki just doesn't have an answer on defense. Hyata Rei even tries to close the gap on him, using his magnificent length to try and interfere, but Accorsi somehow manages to contort his way into a shooting foul and the chance for a four-point play. (He misses the free throw.)
The crowd by now is too occupied with chewing their fingernails to chant constantly, so you can actually hear other people talk between the loud cheers that accompany a basket or major play. Shunichi's actually played on the same court as these people, so he starts adding in his own person insights when ambient volume allows. Some of it is only thinly related to basketball, like Yoshiki's starting point guard Jahangir Ganza's mortal fear of bats. You idly presume that there's a story lurking behind that tidbit.
The food is actually a little disappointing. Given the whole theme of the place, you were expecting someone more exotically rustic, but it turns out to be pretty standard fare for Academy City, obviously owing more to science than to the grill. You get the sense that the others agree.
As the game starts to slip away from Yoshiki, the place becomes cacophonous again; Santiago's supporters get louder and rowdier as the separation grows. You consider it to be a minor miracle that the two sides are willing to keep some physical distance between them. Bar brawls between hooligans are fine in fiction, but you'd rather not be caught up in a real one.
You're glad you're on the same side of the table as Shunichi, because not only is he conveniently placed to block any projectiles from below, but he's also close enough to talk in your ear and physically point out things that you might have missed, like how Santiago's Idane Yusuke has a stutter-step move that seems to totally confound Ganza on what seems like every possession, and yet Essa Sass never falls for it once while ball-handling for the second unit.
Although you're more interested in how you end up with a name like 'Essa Sass' to begin with.
Late in the third, things are rather dire for Yoshiki. You don't realize just how bad it is until ACCESS (that is, Academy City Central Entertainment and Sporting Service) flashes a graphic on the broadcast pointing out that Santiago is on a nasty 25-8 run over the last 10 minutes. The atmosphere has cooled considerably, and a decent amount of the red-and-black brigade have skipped the joint in disgust, leaving Santiago's faithful to hold the field.
That's about when you notice some commotion going on. You have trouble making out what's being said, but a small group of patrons are rather vividly trying to convince the owner of something. They're working their way closer, which gradually lets you hear bits of the conversation: They're wanting him to change the channel to Yotsuba (the name of her show is 'The Pulse,' but everyone calls it 'Yotsuba' anyway) while he insists on sticking with the game. That abruptly changes when one of the patrons shoves her phone in his face. His expression does a full 180.
A few seconds later, and he's switched the channel on all the screens in the house, eliciting a wave of 'what the fuck man come on' sentiment from the assembled. Which fades away rather quickly, as their attention is drawn by what's being said in the interview.
"--is absolutely true, and I stand by it," says a man in a nice suit. Yotsuba is rather famous for obtaining interviews with the sort of serious-business adult types who wouldn't ordinarily give students the time of day, and this man fits the mold.
The shot expands to show Yotsuba herself, seated in a white chair immediately to his left on the elevated part of her set. She's practically a waif, and looks thin and brittle under that long brown hair of hers. From appearances alone, you'd be hard-pressed to pin her as the single most widely-respected student in Academy City.
Certainly, the juxtaposition she draws with the current subject of her interview is magnificent. A tall and broad man of Hispanic descent (In fact, he brings to mind the current American president), he fits into the archetype of masculine authority like Cinderella in a glass slipper.
You share a glace with the others at your table, and it's clear that none of them recognize him either.
"What you've claimed so far has shocked the studio audience and -- I must assume -- the viewers at home as well." Yotsuba has elevated simple speech to an art form, and hews the perfect balance of intonation that can shift between rhapsodic and restrained without feeling artificial or unprofessional, but you suppose that's just one of the perks that comes with being a literal mind reader. "The rational response is no doubt to be skepticism. After all, this is Academy City; extravagant claims are ever-present, and few are ever borne out to be true."
He laughs. "You might be surprised. As for my credentials, I think that I can speak authoritatively as to 'Level Upper' by virtue of being one of its original architects. The 'Level Upper' program which was spread among the student population was build on groundwork prepared by years of rigorous study and investigation, but the program itself was shoddily made and hastily composed. By releasing it like she did, Kiyama Harumi callously placed the lives of tens of thousands of students at dire risk. Even now, we're still working to understand the long-term effects that 'Level Upper' will have on the cerebral physiology and neural development of those who were snared by her trap. Kiyama Harumi is a menace and a monster, and history will remember her as such.
"However, I'm not here to speak about Kiyama Harumi. Rather, I'm here to say something that most of you are probably aware of already: the Board of Directors that rules over this city has collectively resolved to reveal as little information on the incident as possible to the student population. For those of you already accustomed to Academy City's stringent commitment to secrecy, this is just a matter of course and certainly no surprise. You'll no doubt be angry when I tell you that the official policy is to lie to the victims of Level Upper with a false assurance that long-term physiological consequences are out of the question... but it's nothing that you couldn't have guessed on your own.
"The reality, I'm afraid, is much worse than you've accounted for. It's perfectly sensible to guard secrets closely to hinder the espionage that Academy City is often subject to, but this blanket level of censorship afforded to research conducted here has allowed a culture of ethical bankruptcy and outright exploitation to thrive in the depths of our scientific community. For example, I've discovered that an experiment loosely related to what would later become Level Upper was terminated after the accidental deaths of 35 test subjects... none of whom were older than ten at the time. This occurrence was buried."
"That's not to say that scientists in this city are to be distrusted of feared, far from it! The majority of them -- the vast majority -- are upstanding intellectuals who would never place the pursuit of knowledge above a human cost. The danger lies in the wolves among the fold, those who view research as a means to personal power. Even now, they act with impunity to destroy those who stand in their way. No matter how the Directorate chooses to justify their policy of silence, the simple fact of the matter is that they're supporting and enabling the very ones who are destroying our city from within."
The audience's reaction is one of palpable shock, but Yotsuba doesn't seem to be effected in the slightest. "This is the part where I'm no doubt expected to prod you with questions about how such a massive and unprecedented claim can be made with such certainty and why you expect us to trust you, but it should be obvious enough that I didn't invite you on this show as an unannounced guest without awareness of what you're here to say and a great deal of consideration on my own part.
"Everything that Dr. Stefanos Martinez has said is accurate. Academy City is beset by a malady that dwells within the shadows of our beloved home, and it is our duty as citizens to cast a light into that darkness. I know that many of you have come to regard this show as a plumb line amidst a confusing and often contradictory barrage of rumors, assumptions, and far too many lies... I'm greatly honored, and humbled by your trust. Over these last three years, I've done my best to keep a soft touch and introduce you to information without pressuring you so view it in a certain light, but today, I think it's time for an exception.
"To all of you out there, I'm making a request. Dispense with your jadedness. Dispense with your apathy. Jettison your ignorance. As students, we're guilty of convincing ourselves that our voices are insignificant, that they will never be heard. You're wrong. There's a reason that this broadcast hasn't been cut off already: the Board of Directors are unable and unwilling to silence me, because they know that such an action will carry dire consequences.
"I'm just one girl, and there are two million of you." The audience erupts in applause, but she continues. "Academy City is a beacon of light in a penumbral world. It's my greatest love, the home of my heart. Yet, too many of us have forgotten what makes this city great. It's not our scientists or our economy or our influence, and it certainly is not the Directorate that govern us. No, the greatness here lies solely within each and every student inside of the wall. We export vision, we export purpose. We change the world. Without all of us, Academy City would be nothing more than a glorified research park. I think the time has come for us to remind those in power about this."
If the mood in the studio is incendiary, it has nothing on what's going on around you now. Yotsuba made a name for herself by catching Academy City officials in uncomfortable positions and forcing them to make changes, but this is above and beyond everything else. If Yotsuba had been lionized before, this just made her untouchable.
However, you're a little preoccupied with flashing back to your follow-up appointment where a doctor that you've never met before or since reassured you that the effects of Level Upper were purely transient and would fade without a trace after a couple weeks.
It had been a lot to swallow, that something so profound and so violating would just poof out of existence as though tapped by a magic wand, but Academy City is the city of miracles, right? Surely, you'd seen stranger things before!
It was a lie. Of course it was a lie. Why would they care what happens to a Level Zero, anyway? Maybe if they left it untreated, there would even be something interesting to learn!
"--Ruiko, earth to Ruiko?" Shunichi was leaning in, looking worried. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing much," you admit, "just hoping I don't have brain damage."
Shunichi frowns. "Well, after a fiasco like this, I imagine they're gonna be forced to deliver proper care to... wait, you were effected by Level Upper?" Unlike most people who ask, he does it without the faint tone of judgment that never fails to sting.
Well, no point in denying it. "I was. When the coma took me, it was the most terrifying moment of my life."
Shiloh shares a meaningful look with Gideon before turning to address you. "How would you like a job?"
You almost spit out your drink. "I'm sorry?!"
"I realize after what you just heard, you might be a little reluctant," she admits sheepishly, "but we're in need of a subject to test-run a device we've been working on."
"You're right," you deadpan, "after what I heard, I am a little reluctant. No offense."
She laughs nervously. "None taken, but I hope you're willing to hear us out a little."
You nod. "I can do that."
Gideon fields this one. "Yotsuba is absolutely correct: Academy City is suffering from a disease, but it's a far more fundamental one. They need espers to use their abilities regularly to be able to improve them, and they've discovered that the best way to develop your powers -- by a wide margin -- is to use them in combat, or a similar high-stakes atmosphere. Because of this, the Directorate faces a perverse incentive to create just enough unrest in Academy City so that there will never be a shortage of conflict involving espers. In all likelihood, Skill-Out is allowed to exist and thrive so that they'll always present a convenient punching bag.
"We want to make this paradigm obsolete, and to that end we've prototyped a virtual-reality interface that allows you to use your abilities to their fullest extent in a safe environment that can be tailored to your needs, moment-by-moment."
"Well, that's the part of it we're most excited about," Shiloh adds, "but the possibilities are astounding."
"That's cool and all," you chuckle, "but it sounds like you should really as a Level Three or Level Four. I'm just a Zero, so I don't think I can be of much help. Besides, I used Level Upper. Shouldn't you test it on someone who isn't at risk of brain damage?"
Shiloh shakes her head rapidly. "You're wrong, wrong, wrong. A Level Zero is perfect, because if this can't prompt growth from Zeroes, it will never gain enough traction to drive any kind of real change in the city."
"As for Level Upper," Gideon provides, "Dr. Martinez is mistaken. We actually do have a good handle on the long-term consequences of its usage, and it's nothing so dire as you're fearing. I'll spare you the technical explanation, but the imprint left by Level Upper has much the same effect for a AIM scan as a radiocontrast agent does for a CT scan. Finding a subject with this condition is actually a best-case scenario for us, odd as it may seem."
"A subject? How many will there be?"
"Only one," Shiloh admits, "aside from early calibration tests that the researchers have done themselves. We wouldn't ask you to entrust your head to anything we hadn't dogfood-tested ourselves, so to speak."
Dogfood tested? Huh? You push aside mental images of virtual researchers eating dogfood, mostly because you don't have a clear image of what dogs actually eat. Bones, maybe? "A job, you say?"
Shiloh nods. "The compensation will be generous, and you'd get to set your own hours -- within reason, anyway."
You look away. "It sounds like a lot to commit to."
"It is," Gideon agrees. "We don't need a yes or no from you tonight, but if you're interested," he hands you a card, "stop by our lab tomorrow and we can show you around, so you'll have a clear idea of what it is we're offering you. We get off lunch at 1:30, so that'd probably be the best time."
"I'll consider it," you say listlessly, staring at the address. "Sorry I'm not giving you a more clear answer, it's just been a crazy day and I really need to sleep on it."
Shiloh gives you a half-cocked grin of commiseration. "We've all been there."
Shunichi smiles. "It's getting late, and the world has apparently gone mad. I suppose it's unlikely we'll stumble onto an esper insurrection, but one can never be too careful. Would you allow me the privilege of escorting you home?"
"Whaddya think, would I need an escort for my escort?" you ask Gideon and Shiloh.
"You'll be fine," Gideon says with a dismissive wave.
Shiloh concurs. "He's mostly harmless. You should see him try to draw a foul; a small child could stop him dead."
Shunichi's paying, so you take another drink and an appetizer to go and fill the last few minutes with small talk, before saying your farewells to your two new acquaintances. True to his word, Shunichi goes into full gentleman mode, holding doors and even dusting off a metro seat for you. It would be patronizing if he wasn't obviously putting on a tongue-in-cheek comedy show, so you take it in the spirit it's clearly meant.
Still, you'd be lying if you didn't feel a little rosy when he glares at a handful of guys who are just obviously ogling you. It's great that he cares, but you do wish that men like that would back off when you glared at them, instead of just getting bolder.
When you arrive at Red Cross station, he does something really spectacular: he calls a taxi. There are fewer than 7000 student drivers in Academy City -- and literally no adult drivers willing and/or permitted to drive taxis. Short supply and high demand left it as the most expensive means of transportation short of buying a car of your own, and well outside of your own means.
A lavishly-appointed Studebaker Chancellor whisks the pair of you away within minutes, and you're positively giddy. "I don't think you know this, but I really love cars." You don't explicitly point out how much of an understatement this is, but he can probably guess from the way you're nearly drooling over the upholstery.
"If you want, we can go for a joy ride," he offer.
You go saucer-eyed as your miserly brain-circuits fry themselves. The nested Cs that represent Academy City's currency occupy your vision before crumbling into a nuclear fireball, erased from existence. They died so young! "That'd be like wasting a year of my stipend." It's only a slight exaggeration.
"Well, it's my money to waste..." he trails off, leaving the offer to take or leave.
It's a very tempting offer. Buuuut... "Maybe I'll take you up on your ridiculous and stupid offer some other night, but I wasn't kidding when I said it's been a crazy day. I should get some sleep."
You're already at your dorm, the 15-minute walk reduced to an effortless two. You manage to stop Shunichi before he can get out and open your door for you. It's a nice gesture, really, but he's done enough. Instead, he makes do with a warm smile. "Next time, then. Take care, Ruiko."
As you return to your home, you reflect on the fact that you've basically committed to a 'next time.' You're slightly surprised by how little that bothers you.
Ah well, life will still be here tomorrow. Maybe it'll start making sense.
Saten Ruiko
Current Mood: Exhausted
[ ] Take Gideon and Shiloh up on their offer to show you around, see what all the fuss is about.
[ ] Find something else to do; it's not like you're lacking options.
QM's Corner
I have a lot to say, so I'm probably gonna forget to say most of it. First, apologies for the monumental delay. I got a new computer that can play games without melting, so that's occupied a good bit of my time. The rest was by and large the process of actually writing this, because it's one hell of a massive update and I put it off at a couple points when I hit a snag while writing.
Overall, I'd say that the brainstorming delays were beneficial.
You've probably noticed the lack of objectives, and that's because I realized that what I originally had planned for them wouldn't work nearly as well as I'd hoped. I'm open for suggestions on how to bring them back.
I've officially decided on the format I'm going to follow, which involves three-part episodes with shorter interludes interspersed. Hopefully, this will allow me to plat ahead to a respectable degree while still allowing for voting to wildly sway the outcome. (It goes without saying that I'm aiming for and and/or better choices in the near future.)
I still plan on this being a "short" quest (for a given definition of "short"), which means that it will have a limited number of episodes before I move on to a sequel.
I'm quite interested to hear your thoughts on the writing, pacing, story elements, etc. It's obvious enough that Good Company would practically be at home in UFic, and it follows that I'm very much open to UFic-style comments.
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I'm going to class in a couple but I'll try to remember to drop a review, if you really want one, later when I have some time. Just casually reading though I can't spot anything bad about it though, so its pretty good at the very least.
Quest
The Great One
- Location
- Everywhere
her what? Should it be 'position'?
75% Certain
25% horse thief
I cannot overstate just how much the answer is "yes."
Thanks for the catch!
First note, and I don't know if anything happened IRL for you, but this took way to long to update. I forgot a lot of the stuff we had done since I last read this.
I'll do a piece by piece now and an overall at the bottom, hopefully.
Also, good characterization. Gives the players something to help her achieve, and is a punch to the feels. That always helps.
Also good description instead of just saying she continued on her way or something, you actually put a good amount of thought into what and how she would do things and it shows very well.
Also, amusing. Giving us info on what she does with her friends usually. Agian that's Good Characterization. (Seriously have that on copy/paste now).
... Okay, then.
But like I said, I'm not sure about it rather than calling you out as having goofed up. Latching onto some companionship like this wouldn't be out of the realm of possibility as it is, so... *Shrug* You should get another opinion here. Maybe veekie can give a review as well or something.
Also a magician that's also an esper, something funny going on there.
And just keep telling yourself that Saten. (God she sounds lonely or like she's missing a very good friend and it ripped a hoe into her).
We're pretty wise.
Yay! She's learning. Its nice to see a character grow like this.
Not that that necessarily applies to us anyway.
Alright, holy crap.
Give me a couple hours for the overall one. My brain needs to recover.
Edit: I just finished wringing out my brain writing an omake for another quest. Sorry, but I'm pushing this off till tomorrow. I don't trust myself with reviewing right now. Again, sorry.
I'll do a piece by piece now and an overall at the bottom, hopefully.
No idea what this means, but context, and kind of knowing its root word, gives me enough clues to get what its saying.
This one I don't know at all, but its part one of a two part description so it still works.
Manipulative, but human. Good characterization.
Uhh... Who's Kazari? Also, wow we're lonely.
Oh yeah, this is an AU isn't it... and Mikoto's missing... shit.
Sorry, honey. Not that easy. You'll find a goal to go for eventually though... well, hopefully.
Also, good characterization. Gives the players something to help her achieve, and is a punch to the feels. That always helps.
World-building via her thoughts on the matter. This is good, lets the player learn about both the character and the world without going into exposition.
Busy, busy city. And the cyclist thing is casual showing it isn't even uncommon, which is a good touch.
Good Characterization. I have that saved in my copy/paste thing right now
Also good description instead of just saying she continued on her way or something, you actually put a good amount of thought into what and how she would do things and it shows very well.No idea what a "synth" is.
Also, amusing. Giving us info on what she does with her friends usually. Agian that's Good Characterization. (Seriously have that on copy/paste now).Humans get distracted, so does the MC. Good Characterization.
Good Characterization. You're doing something kind of odd there, of course people are going to stare. I can see the insecurity from the other side of the screen with this one.
Wow, brutal. Good Characterization and world building.
Ah, that's a shame. Skill outstrips her build. Good Characterization.
... Okay then. (Dat nickname)
*Snorts* And apparently that's normal for her. Huh.
... Okay, then.Good Characterization. of others as well it looks like.
This entire scene, you know what you're writing about. Or at least make it sound like you do, and there really isn't any difference between the two when you're writing like this, and it shows. Well done.
Heh. Also these people feel like actual living people rather than just cardboard cutouts for the MC to interact with. Good Characterization.
So that's what PDC means. Was that on purpose or did it just not come up?
Heh. Dat nickname.
Again, you make these characters feel alive. Good Characterization.
*Raises eyebrow* Yeah, I spotted that later on.
Ouch.
Hmm... Not sure about this one. Might have been a good idea to let the players decide whether or not they wanted to go unless the MC's mindset at the time was overwhelmingly in favor of wanting to go.
But like I said, I'm not sure about it rather than calling you out as having goofed up. Latching onto some companionship like this wouldn't be out of the realm of possibility as it is, so... *Shrug* You should get another opinion here. Maybe veekie can give a review as well or something.
Wow, that's some stamina. 40 to 50 minutes playing like that. Then again I'm largely sedentary so what do I know?
And other characters have lives not revolving around the MC, dear god what is this insanity.
What was Akemi saying earlier actually? I forgot.
... Wut? (Which is I imagine how she's feeling as well trying to follow that train of thought.)
Well considering how we entered I'm not surprised she thought we were there for someone in trouble.
Amusing.
Good flavor text for the city. Makes it feel more real.
Heh.
And so we get some ugly truths. Poor Saten having her world view torn apart piece by piece.
*Blink* Huh, someone's actually trying to get that out. Or at least make people sub-consciously aware of it.
Valid fears at that.
Is there a story there or... Ah, that might be it. We seem to be good at hiding and crowds can make that both easy and hard, no? :3
Ah, magicians.
Oh, instinct perhaps?
Interesting. Very interesting.
Not sure what this means either.
... Ow, that feels punch hurt.
Also a magician that's also an esper, something funny going on there.
Forgot about the clothes myself, good catch.
And just keep telling yourself that Saten. (God she sounds lonely or like she's missing a very good friend and it ripped a hoe into her).
And the friends a bit of an asshole.*Sigh* And poor Saten dealing with the rascism. I want to give her a hug for some reason, but then I'd probably get punched.
Something funny is going on.
Oh, some more funny things going on.
Yes, it most certainly is, isn't it? *Stares at GM*
Good flavor text for the area, also worrying/sad.
Yeah, stake outs don't work like that, even moving ones.
*Sigh* Patience girl, patience. Stop cursing others... hmm... I wonder...
Good eye girl.
Holy shit indeed.
And she somehow sneaks upon them till she announces herself with the scream. *Flat stare at GM* Very well hidden.
Yep, fights are like that.
Yes, you sound like you are *Stares at GM harder* Improve under the stress of combat, was it?
Well, that was scary to the readers as well. And gets the point across of how dangerous espers can be.
Saten has a hero complex, or is at least somewhat idealistic about what's right, and sticks her foot in her mouth. Not a good combo. Luckily Misaka clone is understanding... an emotional. Huh.
Odd girl, but nice. I like her already. And we're taking her to ramen as a thank you/apology. I like it.
Well, fuck indeed... was it the blood or did she think we were on a date... or both? Heh.
Uhh... It very well might Saten. But, new friend get... hopefully.
And Saten continues to have good instincts. Good job.
She's getting out of touch with her heritage, not surprising I suppose.
Homo Richgirlensis... *Snorts* That one's pretty good.
...Yeah. Something funny there.
Well, something funny and don't worry Kanako, we'll help you out. *Smile* *Kanako plots all escape routes she can find*
Yay! We're making progress with her.
Ah, so that is what Saten was up to. I had thought it might have been, good going Saten.
Heh.
Because she is still figuring out who she is, maybe?
Hmm...
And that was a good snark.
An she laughs. I consider this entire outing a win no matter how it ends.
Interesting question.
Well... That escalated quickly.
Good answer actually. Kanako does have a choice to some degree... I think. So she has some responsibility for whatever she chooses. Of course it needs to count for extenuating circumstances, but its a good answer.
We're pretty wise.
Oh, you horrible tease of a young woman.
Interesting. Also didn't remember this guy at all. Now let's just hope he isn't some sociopath or zero ethics scientist. ... He's a mage isn't he?
*Coughs* Right, marinara sauce. His face or tone when he said that though, heh.
We need to remember to watch this.
... Lucky. And good life lesson to know.
*Stares at Gm harder*
Until you end up looking like a blueberry, right inner quiping voice?
Poor Saten, feeling she has little control over her life has got to suck... well it does suck. Been there before.
Can't remember the comment I was thinking of.
Ah, dammit. What'd we forget?
Yay! She's learning. Its nice to see a character grow like this.More good flavor text from the street level view.
*Stares at GM*
Good description, short and sweet. Enough for the player/reader to make up the rest without it going into scenery porn.
Heh.
Forgot what I had for this section as well... Good Characterization! (Because it is.)
Yup, more Good Characterization!
Like every other scientist in the city, amiright?
*Winces*Wow, uhh... still want to give her a hug, still worried about getting punched.
And she just had the 2nd most today. She's turning into a moeblob in my head right now... granted one that can punch your lights out, but still. Poor Saten... well, poor everyone really. Kuruko's not having it easy either and who knows what's happening to Misaka.
Nice reaction Saten, mirrored mine perfectly. Well, the surprise at least.
And more of the darkside is drudged up and dumped on our girl.
That... Could flip everything over. With all that implies, both good and bad.
I thought Zeroes were those with no power or one that couldn't be measured? As in how would a level zero increase their power if they don't even have one.
Not that that necessarily applies to us anyway.
Oh, now you mention this. Jeez.
That... doesn't make sense. You always have a test pool. We're telling someone where we're going even if NDA's get involved. Period.
She doesn't know what dogs eat? Wut?
Hmm... At least they're nice about it. And understanding.
Heh.
Heh. And some guys are idiots, sorry Saten.
*Whistles* Damn. And Saten is cute and amusing.
Heh. And damn that's expensive... or you get paid next to nothing. Probably both.
Alright, holy crap.
Give me a couple hours for the overall one. My brain needs to recover.
Edit: I just finished wringing out my brain writing an omake for another quest. Sorry, but I'm pushing this off till tomorrow. I don't trust myself with reviewing right now. Again, sorry.
Last edited:
notthepenguins
Neither Spherical Nor Frictionless
- Pronouns
- He/She/They
[x] Find something else to do; it's not like you're lacking options.
Still don't trust Shunichi, and I certainly don't trust his two friends when they want to Do Science To Us. The last time our heads got fucked with to up our Level, we went into a coma. It maaay be best to try a different method.
Still don't trust Shunichi, and I certainly don't trust his two friends when they want to Do Science To Us. The last time our heads got fucked with to up our Level, we went into a coma. It maaay be best to try a different method.
[X] Take Gideon and Shiloh up on their offer to show you around, see what all the fuss is about.
I'd offer a review but my computer literally melted, making this somewhar difficult to do from mobile
From what it seems, this is the part of the Sisters arc where Misaka goes AWOL to conduct sabotage on labs across the city.
Might run into her.
I'd offer a review but my computer literally melted, making this somewhar difficult to do from mobile
From what it seems, this is the part of the Sisters arc where Misaka goes AWOL to conduct sabotage on labs across the city.
Might run into her.
[X] Take Gideon and Shiloh up on their offer to show you around, see what all the fuss is about.
I want to at least see what they are all about.
I want to at least see what they are all about.
- Pronouns
- she/her
[X] Take Gideon and Shiloh up on their offer to show you around, see what all the fuss is about.
75% Certain
25% horse thief
Guilty as charged!
"Rote" means essentially "from memory and without feeling." You'll often encounter it in the phrase "rote repetition," which is just the dreary-eyed regurgitation of something you say all the time.
Uiharu. It's a consequence of using personal names instead of surnames, and my own inability to find a good reason for Ruiko to buck the cultural standard here.
Bit of trivia: bicycles are common, but motorbikes and motor scooters aren't sold in the city, despite the occasional petition to permit their import. Between this ban and Academy City's lack of automobiles (for a city that size, anyway), the streets are remarkably quiet and clear.
An electronic instrument that's virtually emblematic of 80's music in our own timeline. Things are surely a bit different in this universe, but I can't imagine it one that neglects it entirely.
Watsonian: yes. Doylist: I didn't want to inundate everyone with eight new names at once if I could help it.
Academy City is even bigger about association football, but I went with basketball because it flows much better as a play-to-play narrative. Football really is "the beautiful game," and it's tons of fun to play, but there are only so many ways you can write "Character X runs around a lot,and occasionally kicks the ball." I'm exaggerating a little, but the flow is much slower and more deliberate and it doesn't have the same multidementionalism as basketball.
Tbh real pickup basketball games will be ugly and uncoordinated, but who wants to write about some jackass shooting when he should have passed -- again -- and missing the rim entirely?
I probably let "PDC" sit too long as an acronym without defining it, but I don't feel terribly remorseful; it's not that vital.
Yeah, call a railroad a railroad, 'cause it pretty much is. I'm playing this a bit tighter in the early game for a couple of reasons. First, this is an AU; I want to give everyone a sense of what's different about Academy City and what's different about Ruiko before I put too much in the hands of the players. Second, I want to get the narrative on a certain path so that I can have a good plot for all of you to work with, rather than playing everything off-the-cuff.
That's not to say that I haven't provided any real choices thus far; you've collectively made a few already to this point.
Something like this
Level Fives have been portrayed as fundamentally inhuman psychopaths ever since they were coined as a concept in speculative fiction, and they've had a hard time shaking that longstanding cultural stigma in the year that they've actually existed.
Veracity means truthfulness.
It sounds like racism, but it's actually a bit more complicated. Remember: even though this Academy City is distinctly multinational, the majority of the students are still ethnically Japanese. This is actually the consequence of a bygone era of Academy City history where the students were almost all members of various cliquish, self-absorbed, and frequently xenophobic National Societies.
Around the time that Academy City declared its independence (shortly after, actually), there was a tectonic shift away from these groups and towards viewing the students as a distinct and unique emergent culture, the Academese. As the population was around 80% Japanese at the time, the Japanese National Societies were the largest and also the most conservative, many of them openly opposed to Academy City's formal Independence of Japan. Naturally, the pushback was strongest against these specifically, and they went the way of the dinosaur within just over a generation. (In this city, that's the equivalent of about eight years.)
This particular breed of conservatism survives today inside the Garden of Education, although firmly outside of the trappings of any National Society. The only remaining one is the Noble Brotherhood of Udmurts, and that has a very complicated story behind it. Suffice to say that the Udmurts don't carry the same baggage, and that they have a very unique and positive place in Academy City culture... despite 'udmurt' being an insult (albeit a gentle one) in modern Academese.
Relax, this isn't a "Saten gets powers in the first update" fix fic. I mean, I'm not opposed to her improving as an esper and I don't view her status as a Level Zero as something essential from a Doylist stance, but I also have a very clear idea of why Ruiko is a Level Zero, and she'll have to move past that before anything can change.
Makes you wonder if Skill-Out doesn't have a point, mm?
Gotta make sure we aren't too wise, though. I'm inevitably going to end up writing characters as smarter than they probably should be, but Ruiko is in middle school, not college.We're pretty wise.
Daigo is their homeroom teacher. He gets some focus for an episode of the first series.
Yes, right, we definitely do! Not that I forgot or anything...
To record a TV show, but you ended up catching part of it anyway.
Zeroes still have their own AIM fields, but they aren't capable of manifesting them. Most espers start out as a 0 on the Lazare scale, and only improve through training and perseverance. Touma is an exception in that he isn't actually an esper at all, and his placement on the scale is utterly inaccurate.
In a city like this one, extra effort is often necessary to guard your secrets from prying eyes, and prying minds.
Ruiko has probably never seen a dog in person. Academy City has very strict restrictions on pets, to the degree where they basically aren't there at all. While she might have seen them on TV, she hasn't actually been exposed to dogfood, nor has she had reason to think of it.
I've been led to believe that I wasn't clear enough about this in the update itself, but Gideon and Shiloh are about a year older than Shunichi. That is to say, 16 or 17. I'll look for a place in the text to make this explicit, but I figure this is as good a place as any to announce it.
Most definitely both.
No hurry. You might just have an interlude to look at too when you come back.
Speaking of that, it slipped my mind to include voting options on the interlude, so we're going with Mugino this time.
Saten calling her Uiharu is a sign that they're very close friends though.
75% Certain
25% horse thief
Uiharu is her family name. Her personal name is Kazari.
75% Certain
25% horse thief
It's pretty easy to overlook, since everyone who you'd expect to call her "Kazari" calls her "Uiharu" instead. It certainly feels odd to write.
Uh, so I kind of forgot about this. A little busy yesterday, had a mid-term, but if its alright with you then I'll wait for the interlude before giving a review for the overall story. Might give me something more to chew on in the review, so might as well wait.Just remind me if I forget. I have a mind like a sieve sometimes.
Interlude 2
75% Certain
25% horse thief
Interlude 2
District 10, Academy City, 08/05/1988
"For a place with this reputation, I was hoping for something a little more obviously sinister," Mugino Shizuri said with a frown.
Takitsubo Rikou nodded slightly. "Feels almost like home."
Indeed, there were few names more unsettling than the Special Ability Institute, as it was publicly known. It was a name used seldom, and almost always in conjunction with the two most powerful espers in Academy City. They were, in Shizuri's own eyes, the only two people alive who warranted the addition of a fifth level to the Lazare Scale.
That's not to say that whispering among the cognoscenti was tantamount to proof of existence. Talk, Shizuri had often found, was cheap. Upon inheriting leadership of ITEM, she had plunged herself with vigor into the shadowy underside of the city in an effort to uncover information about programs similar to the SAI; it had been the cornerstone to her recruitment methods. Never once had she laid eyes upon evidence of its existence, and she had reached the point of dismissing it entirely as one of Academy City's many smokescreens, protecting god-knows-what.
It came as something of a surprise when a routine intel haul had netted a ten-page paper-and-ink document bearing the mark and address of the Special Ability Institute and outlining several aspects of operational protocol. Chief among them and most interesting was that the facility itself was left mothballed between experiments. Better yet, the next experiment scheduled to be conducted in November of this year, several months distant. Assuming that the gaps between were of lengths justifying the use of terms like 'mothballing' and 'hibernation,' that left a very strong probability that SAI was unoccupied and vulnerable.
Well, 'vulnerable' was a relative thing. The passive defenses were layered thick, but they were also more than a year old; Frenda could have disabled them in her sleep, Shizuri was sure. The blonde had ventured well ahead of her compatriots, making a beeline for the control center to recover what data she could. Their hope was that the SAI operated like similar labs and stored all of its vital data in-house on a machine without an intranet connection.
Shizuri took the pencil from above her left ear (the right being graced with an overslung earpiece) and marked another corridor on the ad-hoc map she was composing. In case the worst came to pass, she didn't plan on being lost. Rikou watched her with a skeptical eyebrow, but she also had a much better innate sense of direction.
Some of the stuff they'd found thus far had been dodgy-looking, but sufficiently opaque in function and purpose that it wouldn't have been at all incongruous in a well-appointed PDC. She'd been anticipating things like blood-stained operating tables and ominous rows of cloning vats, not yet another room of basic laboratory equipment. They had happened across what seemed to be classrooms, indicating that the SAI was capable of holding a large amount of subjects. However, that wasn't proof that it ever had.
Really, the self-guided tour had just been an impromptu bout of chronocide while Frenda accomplished the important bit, and they were freed from the purgatory with a transmission that she'd done just that.
"I have everything we're gonna get."
Shizuri had almost put her finger to her ear before remembering that she didn't need to. "You sound disappointed. Damn. I figured this was too good to be true." She turned to Rikou. "Anything?"
Rikou shook her head. "If this is a trap, it still hasn't sprung. Maybe they were counting on us tripping an alarm?"
"I refuse to believe that anyone is so stupid," Shizuri groused. "Underestimating Frenda's capabilities? Maybe once, but not now. More likely that the SAI is a red herring, or that this is just a front for the real SAI. Have you had a chance to look over any of the data, Frenda?"
"Important stuff is encrypted. Easy enough to break, but not with what I have here. We'll probably be wasting our time, though. If I had to guess, the reason nobody's ever heard of the Special Ability Institute is because it doesn't do anything worth hearing about. I've had my share of experience with sketchy labs, and this... is most certainly one. It's not obvious, but there are a lot of outdated bits in this place. Stuff dating back to the 60s, or even the 50s. For most of it, the only reason that it hasn't been replaced is because someone, somewhere, decided that it wasn't worth the trouble."
Shizuri sighed. "I don't suppose you've noticed any secret hatches or hidden doors?"
A pause. "I suppose you could just start blasting through walls, see if we get lucky. Wait, hold on. A couple alarms have tripped,at the entrance."
"Anything?" Shizuri asked, whirling on Rikou.
"Nothing's changed," Rikou said. "They're either too weak for me to detect, or possibly a higher-level esper whom I've never encountered. If they know the right tricks, it's theoretically possible for them to get close. More likely than not, it'll be a group of unpowered mercenaries. Black Crow, Hound Dog, their ilk. Possibly Anti-Skill."
"Frenda, do you have schematics for the building downloaded?"
"I do," she confirmed.
"Chart a path for Rikou, meet up with her, and get out of here safely. I'll meet our new guests and try to drag a bit of useful information out of this wasted afternoon."
"Slight problem with that," Frenda replied. "There's only one way in and out of this place."
Shizuri frowned slightly. "Make another."
"...Acknowledged."
She patted Rikou on the head and started walking back. "Sorry, it doesn't look like we're going to find what you were looking for."
"It's alright; I think we were all hoping to get something out of this. We'll have better luck next time, I'm sure of it. Speaking of 'everyone,' should we get some reinforcements just to be safe?"
"Don't bother. Frenda, Rikou, I'm switching to another channel so you can do your thing without distracting me. If you need to get through, switch to preset four." Shizuri waited for confirmation before clicking away.
She looked down at her map unhappily. There were a couple points she really wanted to cut through, but she couldn't run the risk of cutting through some unlucky bastard on the other side.
it took a few minutes, but she picked up the footsteps of someone who clearly didn't care if he was heard.
One person...
She pushed unnecessary thoughts away and focused on the task. With her own lighter step, it was simple enough to close in on the interloper. Male, school uniform, probably an esper... If only she'd remembered to have Frenda turn on the lights.
She fired a warning shot over his shoulder. "I don't know who you are, and I don't particularly care. If you fight me, you die."
He turned around slowly. "Actually, I think you do."
That voice... no way. Not possible.
She didn't waste a moment, blasting him directly with her full power. He wasted even less in blocking it with a cloud of energy beyond her control or comprehension. "And here I was, thinking that the next time we'd meet would be in hell. I suppose I should have known better than to underestimate the world's mightiest cockroach!"
"'Cockroach,' Mugino? Is that what you call someone who outclasses you in every measure imaginable? I'm not exaggerating here when I say that you live because I deign to allow it," Kakine Teitoku boasted. "Isn't the correct response here to be thankful?"
Shizuri laughed, but with an edge to it. "Thankful, huh? Yeah, you got that part right. I'm very thankful, because I've finally found someone I can go all-out against!" Ten spears of energy lanced away from her fingers, each at a different frequency. Kakine threw up a wall to block them, but was only partially successful, as some were only bent or somewhat diffused. He had to dodge and erect smaller, more effort-intensive barriers. Cursing, he bowled straight through a wall while Shizuri's attacks followed him.
District 10, Academy City, 08/05/1988
"For a place with this reputation, I was hoping for something a little more obviously sinister," Mugino Shizuri said with a frown.
Takitsubo Rikou nodded slightly. "Feels almost like home."
Indeed, there were few names more unsettling than the Special Ability Institute, as it was publicly known. It was a name used seldom, and almost always in conjunction with the two most powerful espers in Academy City. They were, in Shizuri's own eyes, the only two people alive who warranted the addition of a fifth level to the Lazare Scale.
That's not to say that whispering among the cognoscenti was tantamount to proof of existence. Talk, Shizuri had often found, was cheap. Upon inheriting leadership of ITEM, she had plunged herself with vigor into the shadowy underside of the city in an effort to uncover information about programs similar to the SAI; it had been the cornerstone to her recruitment methods. Never once had she laid eyes upon evidence of its existence, and she had reached the point of dismissing it entirely as one of Academy City's many smokescreens, protecting god-knows-what.
It came as something of a surprise when a routine intel haul had netted a ten-page paper-and-ink document bearing the mark and address of the Special Ability Institute and outlining several aspects of operational protocol. Chief among them and most interesting was that the facility itself was left mothballed between experiments. Better yet, the next experiment scheduled to be conducted in November of this year, several months distant. Assuming that the gaps between were of lengths justifying the use of terms like 'mothballing' and 'hibernation,' that left a very strong probability that SAI was unoccupied and vulnerable.
Well, 'vulnerable' was a relative thing. The passive defenses were layered thick, but they were also more than a year old; Frenda could have disabled them in her sleep, Shizuri was sure. The blonde had ventured well ahead of her compatriots, making a beeline for the control center to recover what data she could. Their hope was that the SAI operated like similar labs and stored all of its vital data in-house on a machine without an intranet connection.
Shizuri took the pencil from above her left ear (the right being graced with an overslung earpiece) and marked another corridor on the ad-hoc map she was composing. In case the worst came to pass, she didn't plan on being lost. Rikou watched her with a skeptical eyebrow, but she also had a much better innate sense of direction.
Some of the stuff they'd found thus far had been dodgy-looking, but sufficiently opaque in function and purpose that it wouldn't have been at all incongruous in a well-appointed PDC. She'd been anticipating things like blood-stained operating tables and ominous rows of cloning vats, not yet another room of basic laboratory equipment. They had happened across what seemed to be classrooms, indicating that the SAI was capable of holding a large amount of subjects. However, that wasn't proof that it ever had.
Really, the self-guided tour had just been an impromptu bout of chronocide while Frenda accomplished the important bit, and they were freed from the purgatory with a transmission that she'd done just that.
"I have everything we're gonna get."
Shizuri had almost put her finger to her ear before remembering that she didn't need to. "You sound disappointed. Damn. I figured this was too good to be true." She turned to Rikou. "Anything?"
Rikou shook her head. "If this is a trap, it still hasn't sprung. Maybe they were counting on us tripping an alarm?"
"I refuse to believe that anyone is so stupid," Shizuri groused. "Underestimating Frenda's capabilities? Maybe once, but not now. More likely that the SAI is a red herring, or that this is just a front for the real SAI. Have you had a chance to look over any of the data, Frenda?"
"Important stuff is encrypted. Easy enough to break, but not with what I have here. We'll probably be wasting our time, though. If I had to guess, the reason nobody's ever heard of the Special Ability Institute is because it doesn't do anything worth hearing about. I've had my share of experience with sketchy labs, and this... is most certainly one. It's not obvious, but there are a lot of outdated bits in this place. Stuff dating back to the 60s, or even the 50s. For most of it, the only reason that it hasn't been replaced is because someone, somewhere, decided that it wasn't worth the trouble."
Shizuri sighed. "I don't suppose you've noticed any secret hatches or hidden doors?"
A pause. "I suppose you could just start blasting through walls, see if we get lucky. Wait, hold on. A couple alarms have tripped,at the entrance."
"Anything?" Shizuri asked, whirling on Rikou.
"Nothing's changed," Rikou said. "They're either too weak for me to detect, or possibly a higher-level esper whom I've never encountered. If they know the right tricks, it's theoretically possible for them to get close. More likely than not, it'll be a group of unpowered mercenaries. Black Crow, Hound Dog, their ilk. Possibly Anti-Skill."
"Frenda, do you have schematics for the building downloaded?"
"I do," she confirmed.
"Chart a path for Rikou, meet up with her, and get out of here safely. I'll meet our new guests and try to drag a bit of useful information out of this wasted afternoon."
"Slight problem with that," Frenda replied. "There's only one way in and out of this place."
Shizuri frowned slightly. "Make another."
"...Acknowledged."
She patted Rikou on the head and started walking back. "Sorry, it doesn't look like we're going to find what you were looking for."
"It's alright; I think we were all hoping to get something out of this. We'll have better luck next time, I'm sure of it. Speaking of 'everyone,' should we get some reinforcements just to be safe?"
"Don't bother. Frenda, Rikou, I'm switching to another channel so you can do your thing without distracting me. If you need to get through, switch to preset four." Shizuri waited for confirmation before clicking away.
She looked down at her map unhappily. There were a couple points she really wanted to cut through, but she couldn't run the risk of cutting through some unlucky bastard on the other side.
it took a few minutes, but she picked up the footsteps of someone who clearly didn't care if he was heard.
One person...
She pushed unnecessary thoughts away and focused on the task. With her own lighter step, it was simple enough to close in on the interloper. Male, school uniform, probably an esper... If only she'd remembered to have Frenda turn on the lights.
She fired a warning shot over his shoulder. "I don't know who you are, and I don't particularly care. If you fight me, you die."
He turned around slowly. "Actually, I think you do."
That voice... no way. Not possible.
She didn't waste a moment, blasting him directly with her full power. He wasted even less in blocking it with a cloud of energy beyond her control or comprehension. "And here I was, thinking that the next time we'd meet would be in hell. I suppose I should have known better than to underestimate the world's mightiest cockroach!"
"'Cockroach,' Mugino? Is that what you call someone who outclasses you in every measure imaginable? I'm not exaggerating here when I say that you live because I deign to allow it," Kakine Teitoku boasted. "Isn't the correct response here to be thankful?"
Shizuri laughed, but with an edge to it. "Thankful, huh? Yeah, you got that part right. I'm very thankful, because I've finally found someone I can go all-out against!" Ten spears of energy lanced away from her fingers, each at a different frequency. Kakine threw up a wall to block them, but was only partially successful, as some were only bent or somewhat diffused. He had to dodge and erect smaller, more effort-intensive barriers. Cursing, he bowled straight through a wall while Shizuri's attacks followed him.
Episode 3 Part 1
75% Certain
25% horse thief
It was a good sleep while it lasted, you decide. It finally ends to the unusual sound of your handphone's alarm, the opening bars to Phylactery's "Emergent Desires", something that's helpfully narrated by the other person in your room.
"Didn't realize your tastes extended that far back," she continues. "Good choice, though; Phylactery's heyday was definitely with Lucy Miles as a vocalist. Marina just doesn't have the same magic touch, even if her stage presence is incredibly magnetic."
You bury your head in your pillow and pretend that Mako isn't in your room lecturing you on music.
It doesn't really work.
"Sometimes I wonder why they took the effort to keep the band going for three decades, even though they're at something like 500% turnover by now. I mean, any vision that they originally had must have diluted so much by now that there shouldn't be any 'legacy' left. But then I listen to Sudden Dawn Symphony, and pick out how individual tracks owe so much to songs from the band's earlier eras, even to their first release. It's pretty surreal." She pauses. "I don't know if they have a song called "Rouse The Girl From Bed With Violence", but I think we're about to find out.
You groan. "Fine. Fine fine fine fine. I'm up, I'm up." It takes you a few seconds to make good on that, but you eventually manage. "Th'hell's your deal?" you slur.
Mako plops down on your bed -- bouncing you around in the process -- and bops you in the chest with her pointer finger. "You. Who are you, and what did you do with the real Ruiko?"
"I just slepped in a little, s'all," you say, scratching at your eyes.
"Exhibit A. Ruiko never sleeps in."
"And you say that I'm crazy for not sleeping in," you counter, a little annoyed now.
"There's no such thing as a universe where I'm showered, dressed, and awake for two hours before you've even escaped your sheets. Remember when you were sick last year? We pretty much had to tie you to your bedpost!"
You raise an eyebrow. "No, you literally tied me to my bedpost. Which was totally unnecessary, by the way."
"Ruiko. Trust me. If we hadn't done that, you would have been all over the dorm infecting everyone. God knows you tried! I got the feeling you'd rather have your fingernails pulled off that experience solitude. That's why the three of us stayed with you all week, and ended up getting sick ourselves. Now, look at it from our view. You've made your dorm into Fortress Saten and you aren't talking to Kazari at all. Akemi's sure you're pushing her away, and Mu and I feel the same. People change, I know, but I don't think that a 180 like you've done is normal or healthy."
"So you use the emergency key to force yourself into my room while I'm sleeping?" That came out a little sharper than you'd intended.
Credit to her: if it stung, she doesn't show it. "For us, it was an emergency. We tried your phone, but you weren't answering. We were afraid you'd heard the news and done something... rash. We would have checked sooner, but all three of us were gone overnight and we promised to keep the keys secret inside of our circle."
"Why were all three of you gone?" you ask out of legitimate curiosity.
"You did hear the news, right? Otherwise this won't make sense."
"I heard, don't worry," you say.
She nods. "We all met up at a hospital to get a second examination, hopefully an honest one. You should consider doing the same."
"Is that when you called me?" Indeed, checking your phone, you find about a dozen missed calls. It had been on silent. Whoops. "Sorry, didn't mean to make all of you worry like that." It was a pretty hollow apology, you reckoned, but you had to start somewhere. "By the way, why is my door open?"
Mako gives you a look. "I can't just invite myself into a sleeping girl's room and shut the door behind me, can I? This is called 'being expedient.'"
"Uh." Confusion seems into your expression. "Are you... sure? I'm not sure. In fact, I don't think it is called that."
"No, no," Mako insists, "pretty sure it is."
"No. No way. I will bet real money that you're wrong and I'm right." You grope around under your bed, looking for a pair of shorts you're pretty sure you left said real money in. A few seconds later, you've come up with an orange 25-er and you wave it in Mako's face, "Reaaal moneeey~"
She scrunches her nose, deep in thought. "Screw it. You're on. We'll have someone impartial look it up later, does that work for you?"
You let out a predatory chuckle. "You just need time to find someone dumb enough to loan you 25 C's, don'tcha?"
"I'm hardly broke, I'll have you know. Just, none of it is in cash, and you know what a pain it is to change it out like that," she explains, not actually rejecting the assertion. "Y'know, I've suddenly realized that we've been going about this the wrong was entirely. We've been thinking of friendship in terms of emotional bonds and shared memories and struggling to understand how to fix things here, but really, all we needed to do was to dangle a few banknotes in front of you, maybe on one of those fishing rod things"
Opening your mouth, you start to object when you realize you can't. "Yeah, that might just work. I also accept payment in the form of cash cards and bearer bonds."
Mako sighs. "Just... don't mention the part about how you exchange company for money to any career counselors."
You're struck by the undercurrent of seriousness she can't quite bury. "Don't worry, Mako, I'm not desperate like that. I'm not it dept to Skill Out or anything crazy like that." Even thinking about it turned your stomach a little, so you change the subject. "Let's see if there's anything on TV."
Walking over, you draw a cabinet open to reveal a decent 25" screen. Spinning the remote in your hand like a duelists's pistol, you turn it on and raise the volume from its minimal setting. Regrettably, the mid-morning is something of a wasteland on all seven channels. You eventually settle on a morning talkshow hosted by a pair of smiling robots called Julie and Hideki. Well, they weren't literal robots, but the words that crawled out of their mouths had all the home-cooked freshness of a can of tuna chunks.
They were doing an oddly topical segment on the Level Upper revelations of last night, something far afield from their usual human interest fluff pieces. It was still the last place you expected to encounter any valid or worthwhile opinion, so it was no surprise that Julie was going on at length about how Dr. Martinez was throwing stones at a respected institution and how Yotsuba was equally culpable -- if not moreso -- for giving him a platform to spread his slander.
That's when something remarkable happens: Hideki disagrees. Julie does an honest-to-god doubletake on camera, and the two of you are equally aback. Mako lets out a whistle, which is a little surprising because you didn't think she knew how. "Shit. Guess they can't call it 'Julie and Hideki' next Saturday."
"Don't misunderstand," he says to his stunned co-host, "I'm not saying that he's correct. Frankly, we don't know. However, it's undeniable that this has struck a chord with the student population at large, even those who were never effected by the so-called 'Level Upper'. I thin --- I think it's plain to see," he blocks an attempt to interrupt, "that this gap in trust existed long before Dr. Martinez dropped his bombshell, and I think it's very concerning that we've never noticed
it, never paid attention to it."
Julie is probably physically incapable of not smiling, and you can tell that the blonde woman's current expression is exceptionally fake. "Hideki, you're right, this is nothing new. In fact, Skill Out is a great reminder that this lack of trust exists, and a great warning about what happens when students stop trusting the very schools that look after their every need. When students are mislead, it's a tragedy for them, and it's the city's job to help protect them from that threat."
Hideki looks like a few of his feathers have been ruffled. "You're absolutely correct, absolutely. It's the job of the city to protect students from threats. There's no doubt about that. But, Julie, this is Academy City. If we're considering knowledge to be a threat, I fear that something has gone very wrong. I fear that we're moving away from the principles this city was founded on. And no, I'm not okay with that, and I don't think it's right."
It goes on in that fascinating vein for a few more minutes, before they move on to another segment and interview a cute little esper who teaches animals to dance.
"Terrifying," Mako breathes.
You tilt your head. "What, Hideki having human emotions, or the dancing turtle?"
"Yes."
It's coming up to 11:30, so you decide you should probably start treating it like a real day. "Unless you want to shower with me, you should probably go get lunch or something."
Mako gives you a heavy pat on the back and stands up. "If I wanted to shower with you, I would have closed the door."
"Whatever," you yell after her, "prepare to lose money!"
You start taking off your pajama shirt and you're only halfway there when you here Mako say something like "Good luck" to someone who probably isn't you followed by what sounds like a kick and a very male 'ow.' You hastily reverse your motions and find a very familiar face shaking his right leg. The door closes; Mako must have done it.
A veritable geyser of obscenity wells up inside of you, but you manage to erect a cardboard smile to go with your deer-in-the-headlights stare. You aren't even embarrassed, not really. You're just... fuck. Fuckfuckfuck. "Kojiro."
He looks around, gray eyes following the lines of the room. "I haven't been in your room since we moved to these dorms. Interesting what you've done to the place; very different. Sorry, I uh, guess I should apologize first for the entry. I wasn't planning on barging in, but Mako kind of shoved me in here. At first I was a little mad that you never bothered to tell me, but it looks like you didn't tell them either. It just confuses me more."
You fall back on your bed in defeat, staring at the ceiling. "I don't know if you've noticed, but I've been pretty bad on the whole 'telling people things' deal lately. I've probably treated you the worst, and I'm sorry for that." It's not an exaggeration; you've dreaded speaking with Kojiro because you were so sure he'd be bitter.
"I understand. I'm fine with whatever you chose, but it's just something of a shock. I thought we had something great going, and then suddenly we don't. Not even a word, it just... ends. I can't complain if you move on. I don't own you. But, I wish you'd said something," he says plaintively.
"Wait," you say as your mind catches up. "Are we even having the same conversation here? What are you talking about? You've been a great friend, Kojiro, but when did we ever 'have something great'? Did you just invent this on your own?"
Kojiro keeps a stiff upper lip, but that clearly hurt. "I don't know, Ruiko, what would you call it? Have you forgotten all those times we ate together? Did you purge our starlight dinner at the Glass House Pavilion from your memory? I haven't. Do you think I could forget how we shared that awkward kiss under the fireworks to ring in the new year? I don't know what you call all of that, but I call it 'dating.' I call it 'a relationship.' And yes, I call it 'something special.'"
This is all rather awkward, because the truth was that you'd never called it any of that, or even spared any real thoughts to some sort of broader narrative. To you, they had just been isolated events that happened in the company of someone you liked and trusted. No end or purpose, beyond 'this feels right.' If he had asked, if he had said something, you probably would have even said 'yes' and changed how you saw it, but he never did. He just went along and assumed that you were thinking the same things he was. It's readily apparent now, in hindsight, and looking into his eyes gives you the sense that he's come to understand.
He's not a bad looking guy. Dusty gray hair matches his eyes, and his skin is a little pale, but that just makes him feel mysterious, and you can dig that. In the time you've known him, he's sprung up from about your own height to being maybe eight centimeters taller. You're not crazy about his fashion sense -- it feels to rigid -- but he was a lot better when you were picking out his clo--
Fuck. I was dressing him. "I am such a bitch. I've been giving you nothing but mixed messages since I've known you, haven't I?"
"I wouldn't say that," he says with a slight smile. "You were there for me when I was in trouble, and I was there for you. Nothing so complex there. You don't have to call it love if you don't want to; maybe it wasn't. But it was definitely trust, and that's not nothing."
You're too fond of him to tell him the truth. "Sorry, hotshot," you grin, "but don't get ahead of yourself. It was never going to happen. I'm your Sophia, so why don't you go find your Laura?"
"I'm not sure whether I'm more amazed that you remembered that I read Love and Freindship or more amazed that you turned in into such a bad metaphor. But... I'm okay. Whatever you chose, I'm okay with it. I just want what's best for you, and from where I'm standing, it looks like you're repeating some of the same mistakes you did in the past. Please, be careful." He starts walking away, but brings himself to a stop. "Is it my fault? Was I the one who left you behind?"
"I... I don't know, Kojiro, but I want you to know that I'll never blame you for becoming stronger, even if I can't manage it."
He seems... relieved. "I know it's just words, but I want you to know that I've never once felt special for being a Level Three. Nothing's changed, and I still want to be there for you, and I want to be there with you. It was good talking to you again, Ruiko." With that, he left.
Over lunch at the local Cafe Julian, you take a moment to catch Kuroko up on things. It's not that you're totally distrustful of Gideon and Shiloh, but you're not stupid either. Best to cover your bases. She's using her own inside channels to do a little digging. "The place you're going -- nice place, by the look of it -- is a mixed-use facility rented out to three major clients, but somehow I doubt you're paying a visit to the headquarters of a logistics company or a dentist's office. That leaves Trideo Labs, and they're associated with a group called Uniphase Resources. Uniphase plays things pretty close to the chest, but their name comes up in a few places that lead me to believe that they invest pretty heavily in the sort of bleeding-edge tech development that would attract industrial espionage. To me, that sounds less like a conspiracy and more like good security practice." She waits for some answer, but you're a bit lost in thought. "Oi, Ruiko? You there? Is everything alright?"
"Oh, uh, yeah, I'm fine," you fight through an almost-stutter, "I was just impressed. I've seen you at work, but this is the first time I've seen you investigate something. It really blew me away, how quick you found what you were looking for." It's not a lie, strictly speaking. You are quite impressed.
It's hard to tell if Kuroko sees through your dodge or if she's just a little surprised. "It's not as hard as you think. We have software that does the heavy lifting for us; it's mostly a question of putting the right terms in the right database and not fainting from boredom as you work your way through an avalanche of dull legal documents. It's a bit easy for me because I know what forms are worth starting with, that's all." She takes a long sip out of her parfait. "I take it you heard the news about Level Upper?"
You nod. "I watched the broadcast. He said a lot of the things you did, come to think of it. And before you ask, don't worry: I'll make sure to get a second examination done. I'm sure they were overloaded enough last night. Better to go when there won't be a four-hour wait."
She frowns a little. "You still haven't told me what this trip of yours is really about."
Yes, by design. You don't want to deal with the bother of Kuroko trying to talk you out of it, and you have absolutely no doubt she'd try. "Trust me, I'd tell you if it was sketchy. It's just a tour, nothing else." You get the sense that she wants a bit more, so you offer another concession. "I promise I'll call you it I feel even the least bit threatened or uncomfortable."
"Alright, Ruiko, if you feel safe..." She doesn't really try to hide her skepticism.
"I get that you have a lot of experience with these mad scientist types," you say with a sigh, "but if you treat every single lab like it's part of the conspiracy, there's no way that you're right. Just a couple minutes ago, you were saying that Uni-whatever seems legit!"
"I said nothing of the sort," Kuroko corrects. "What I can find on them seems to be aboveboard, but that could very well be just the tip of the metaphorical iceberg. Even then, that's just Uniphase Resources. I couldn't find anything useful on Trideo Labs. So, yes, I'm being suspicious without proof. Guilty as charged. But the fact that any research institution would reach out to you off the street gives me plenty of reason to doubt them."
You roll your eyes. "It's not nearly as suspicious as you make it out to be. I was out with a friend, we met some of his, and they thought I'd be a good fit based on his recommendation." Close enough to the truth.
Kuroko lays it out plain: "I don't know them, and I don't trust them. From where I'm looking, what they've managed to do is find one of the two helpless people who could be used to draw out Mikoto. A needle in a haystack of three million people"
"Oh. Helpless." You reel back from her. "Is that how you think of me?"
"I didn't mean it like that," Kuroko says quietly, looking down and biting her lip.
"Yeah," you agree, "you probably didn't." You're more than a little unnerved by the bitterness in your own voice. Time to bail before I say something I'll regret. Pulling out the 25er from this morning, you toss it on the table. It's more than enough to pay for both of your meals and dessert. Already replaced. "My treat."
She doesn't try to stop you.
Just as well that you left in a huff, because it was about time to get a roll on. You have the sense that 1:30 wasn't meant as a hard arrival deadline, but you still want to get there as close to that time as possible. And in this case, 'getting there' involves crossing the city. Fortunately, it's a straight shot up the Benavente Line. You wait a little longer at Red Cross for a yellow train, which will only stop at major stations. On this trip, that will cut a 17-stop northward journey down to just six. In a lucky stroke, it happens to be one of the new Akagi-Taylor 800s, which they'd only just started rolling out a year ago to replace the aging Akagi-Taylor 1960s. (Most trains in Academy City were the 700 model, about as old as you are.)
A pang of melancholy strikes when you realize that Kojiro is the only reason you know or care about any of this. He wanted to get a job with ACTA, the Academy City Transit Authority, when he was old enough. Wants, you correct yourself. He isn't dead.
You busy yourself with checking up on your online accounts. A user going by The Missing Mustache has circulated a message called the 'Level Upper Primer-Upper' that serves as a good recap of what's been uncovered about the program, but nothing that's news to you. On a lark, you shoot off a message to several of your most trusted names to see what they have on human cloning in Academy City. While you're at it, you also add an update on the continued non-progress of the search of Misaka Mikoto.
Kuroko sends a message, but you don't read it. You'll get back to her later, when you're more willing to trust yourself.
You're actually making good time when your train pulls into P.H. Müller, where you'll need to switch over to the Prudhomme Line for the last leg. The station is massive; easily the largest in the city. Part of that is because it's built in to a subterranean shopping center that stretches almost a third of the way across District 1. You've never actually been here before, so it's something of a struggle to find the right set of tracks. On the way, you see a surprising number of Judgment members eating lunch in the various restaurants. Oh yeah, Judgment Headquarters is directly above us.
By the time you're finally outbound, you almost wish you'd just walked the remaining two kilometers. Fortunately, it's just a quick hop to Rolland Station, which is both the Prudhomme Line's western terminus and the name of the neighborhood your destination is found in. You've landed in District 8, best known for its relative paucity of schools and for being home to a decent percentage of the city's adult population. (You aren't sure on the figures, but 20% sounds right-ish.) The northern half, however, had more in common with neighboring District 16 and District 1; for the most part, it was chalk full of uninteresting white-collar offices and similar spaces.
Most of the people you see in the street are clearly students, even if you couldn't tell from their conduct alone. Instead of the usual assortment of school uniforms and flashy clothes, these people are positively businesslike, conducting themselves with the sort of composed professionalism that's almost unheard of where you live. They con probably afford to use that damn monorail.
The buildings themselves all look pleasant and sharp, but there's no personality to them like you'd find in, say, District 3. They might as well have all been designed by the same architect -- maybe they had! Once you reach Los Angeles Parkway, you follow the arterial for a short distance until you spot the right place. It's a but easier than you feared, owing to a rare instance of perfectly clear signage.
It's almost 1:45, but you're willing to consider it as 'close enough.' The lobby is predictably uninteresting, and you quickly hunt for Trideo Labs on the directory, cluttered as it is with minor tenants. Looks like it's on the... 17th floor. A quick ride up the elevator brings you to an unassuming but pleasant office. The waiting room is large, but it only has eight chairs in it. Earthy tones dominate, particularly a rich, dark green, and it draws a stunning contrast to the bank of windows along the southwestern wall.
Unable to help yourself, you walk over and touch your fingers to the window. You're just high enough to see over the tops of most buildings in the city, and there's a majestic view to be had. In the distance, you can make out four of Academy City's tallest and most distinctive skyscrapers -- all over 500 meters, you recall -- and a dazzling array of slightly smaller but still impressive towers. A bit to the right, you can just see the shimmering surface of the lake. It was probably seven or eight kilometers away.
"Saten Ruiko?" A voice asks from the previously-unoccupied reception desk.
"That's me," you say as you turn around. "You must not get many visitors."
The receptionist is a pleasant lady a few years older than you. "Most of them are delivering food," she says with a smile. "We might have some chemists here, but you wouldn't want to confuse them for cooks."
"Ruiko, it's good to see you!" That voice is unmistakably Gideon's. A split-second later, his face rounds the corner. "I wasn't sure you were coming, but I certainly hoped. It strikes me that I didn't properly introduce myself last night. I'm Gideon Parish, and I'm one of the directors here. I attended Nagatenjouki for a couple years before leaving their program to strike out on my own. They have some wonderful scientific projects there and brilliant minds to go with them, but I found the oversight there was prone to rewarding the conventional over the groundbreaking. Here, we don't have to deal with that." He invites you back into the lab with a gesture. "Come, let me show you around." He continues from where he left off, "I think the worst part of Nagatenjouki was being the only living human within two kilometers who didn't care the slightest about the All-Blacks, or even about football in general. Not much of a basketball hotspot, that side of the river."
Wait a minute. "How long have you been a researcher?"
He flicks his eyes up, putting together dates. "I must have been 11, or maybe I had just turned 12. Nagaten has a good system for getting kids involved at a young age."
"Is that where you met Shi- er, your wife?"
"Actually, no. She went to a different school, less research-oriented. We first met while doing contract work for an outside company. Anyway, let me show you the most important part." He opens a door from the hallway to what it turns out is a corner room. It's decorated in a way that could pass for either a meditation room or a psychologist's office: a few comfortable chairs, artwork on the wall, a small waterfall nestled in the corner. In the center of the room, there's a slick-looking computer console next to what looks almost like a hyper-ergonomic massage bed.
"Seems kinda light for a virtual reality deal," you remark.
Gideon chuckles. "I'm glad you think so. Actually, there are wires running through the floor to the level below. That's where we've stored the computer banks."
"What's the deal with the straps on the bed? That's a little... uh..."
"Yeah, I hear you," he says with a grimace. "We're required to have those by city protocol, thanks to the 'mind' half of the mind-machine interface. The idea is to prevent the subject from injuring themselves if they have seizures. I have to emphasize that to looks a hundred times worse that it actually is. We've logged over 100 hours without a single incident, and we have no basis to believe that there's a threat of an incident in the future. Out of all the similar projects I know of, I can't think of a single example of an induced seizure."
"So, would I need to be strapped in?" You ask.
"No, not at all. We've only ever used them to make sure they're strong enough to pass inspection." He looks over your shoulder to the door. "Ah, it looks like Dr. Naidoo has finally seen fit to join us."
The newcomer is a male roughly Gideon's age, not terribly tall but decently well built. He has dark skin and a bedraggled look, as well as a pair of round-framed glasses that almost seem like they're for show. To hammer in his doctor-ness, he's also wearing an honest-to-god labcoat. You shoot a skeptical look at Gideon, who doesn't notice. This guy's a doctor? It's not that it's utterly impossible, but you weren't accustomed to those in their teens having advanced degrees.
"Saten Ruiko, correct?" He extends his hand and delivers a pleasantly firm shake. You try to match his tenor, but probably fail. "It's good to meet you. I'm Dr. Timothy Naidoo, but you can just call me 'Tim.' I'm in charge of what we've taken to calling Project Graywire. As a demonstration, we'll run a quick test session with Gideon here."
"We are? Uh, yeah, we are!" Gideon gets with the program quickly. He lays down on the bed and Dr. Tim hands him something that looks like a robot princess' tiara. He sets it on his own head and then adopts the composure of someone willing themselves to sleep.
The Doctor moves to the console, and starts taking in a soothing baritone. "The session will begin in ten seconds. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. Five. Four. Three. Two. The session begins." As he says the last part, he hits a switch. Gideon's small movements cease, leaving him entirely still save for the slow motion of his chest.
Ten seconds later, Gideon's voice comes out of the walls. "I'm inside. The adjustment process is starting." It's all rather fascinating, and more immersive than you'd have guessed. Maybe a minute later, Tim invites you over to stand behind him and look at what he sees. On the screen to his left, there's a real-time readout of Gideon's cerebral activity, with the areas of his brain that correspond to AIM usage distinctly marked but mostly quiet. On the other, there's a pannable window showing Gideon and what he's experiencing. At the moment, he seems to be inside of a library. He picks out a book and opens it, revealing text outside that you're not close enough to make out. "I'd show you how it works with abilities, but mine's not really one we can show off."
You look at Tim. "Can he hear both of us?"
Gideon answers instead. "I can hear everything outside, although it's a weird sensation, because I can also hear things inside of this place. It takes a while to learn how to separate the inputs naturally, so it's a little disorienting at first."
It's as easy to end the session as it is to start it, and the Doctor repeats the same process his did earlier, just in reverse. Not anywhere near as invasive as you'd initially feared on any level.
"I can show you around the rest of the lab if you want," Gideon says as he gently hands to headpiece back. "It's nothing so exciting. The main point of interest is the neurology exam room, which we use for periodical checkups and of course to establish a baseline. No brain surgery involved."
"It'll all feel pretty boring after this, I'm sure!" See, I knew Kuroko was being paranoid.
The Doctor finishes whatever he was doing on the computer to close out the session, and turns to you. "Well, this is the moment of truth. Do you want to take it for a spin or not?"
[ ] Hell yes.
[ ] It's interesting, but I probably shouldn't.
Saten Ruiko
Current Mood: Intrigued
QM's Corner
Sweet god, that utter wreck of an interlude. I've played with a full six different variations, and the best I can manage is that mediocre piece that will only have payoff in the next interlude. Cripes. It's not that I didn't want to write a fight between Shizuri and Kakine, but I know my writing well enough to guarantee it would have ballooned into something much too large to be called an 'interlude' had I kept at it in this batch of updates.
Anyway, my own pride prevents me from offering up the interlude alone, so you got a full update as well, nearly 7000 words of total materiel. I'm reasonably happy with the update, and I feel it presents the full spectrum of Ruiko in a way that hadn't before been done. I've spared particular focus for her past, something that is never really elaborated on in canon beyond 'she's known these three girls for a while.' I'm sure there's more to add here, so if you want me to comment on something, ask away.
"Didn't realize your tastes extended that far back," she continues. "Good choice, though; Phylactery's heyday was definitely with Lucy Miles as a vocalist. Marina just doesn't have the same magic touch, even if her stage presence is incredibly magnetic."
You bury your head in your pillow and pretend that Mako isn't in your room lecturing you on music.
It doesn't really work.
"Sometimes I wonder why they took the effort to keep the band going for three decades, even though they're at something like 500% turnover by now. I mean, any vision that they originally had must have diluted so much by now that there shouldn't be any 'legacy' left. But then I listen to Sudden Dawn Symphony, and pick out how individual tracks owe so much to songs from the band's earlier eras, even to their first release. It's pretty surreal." She pauses. "I don't know if they have a song called "Rouse The Girl From Bed With Violence", but I think we're about to find out.
You groan. "Fine. Fine fine fine fine. I'm up, I'm up." It takes you a few seconds to make good on that, but you eventually manage. "Th'hell's your deal?" you slur.
Mako plops down on your bed -- bouncing you around in the process -- and bops you in the chest with her pointer finger. "You. Who are you, and what did you do with the real Ruiko?"
"I just slepped in a little, s'all," you say, scratching at your eyes.
"Exhibit A. Ruiko never sleeps in."
"And you say that I'm crazy for not sleeping in," you counter, a little annoyed now.
"There's no such thing as a universe where I'm showered, dressed, and awake for two hours before you've even escaped your sheets. Remember when you were sick last year? We pretty much had to tie you to your bedpost!"
You raise an eyebrow. "No, you literally tied me to my bedpost. Which was totally unnecessary, by the way."
"Ruiko. Trust me. If we hadn't done that, you would have been all over the dorm infecting everyone. God knows you tried! I got the feeling you'd rather have your fingernails pulled off that experience solitude. That's why the three of us stayed with you all week, and ended up getting sick ourselves. Now, look at it from our view. You've made your dorm into Fortress Saten and you aren't talking to Kazari at all. Akemi's sure you're pushing her away, and Mu and I feel the same. People change, I know, but I don't think that a 180 like you've done is normal or healthy."
"So you use the emergency key to force yourself into my room while I'm sleeping?" That came out a little sharper than you'd intended.
Credit to her: if it stung, she doesn't show it. "For us, it was an emergency. We tried your phone, but you weren't answering. We were afraid you'd heard the news and done something... rash. We would have checked sooner, but all three of us were gone overnight and we promised to keep the keys secret inside of our circle."
"Why were all three of you gone?" you ask out of legitimate curiosity.
"You did hear the news, right? Otherwise this won't make sense."
"I heard, don't worry," you say.
She nods. "We all met up at a hospital to get a second examination, hopefully an honest one. You should consider doing the same."
"Is that when you called me?" Indeed, checking your phone, you find about a dozen missed calls. It had been on silent. Whoops. "Sorry, didn't mean to make all of you worry like that." It was a pretty hollow apology, you reckoned, but you had to start somewhere. "By the way, why is my door open?"
Mako gives you a look. "I can't just invite myself into a sleeping girl's room and shut the door behind me, can I? This is called 'being expedient.'"
"Uh." Confusion seems into your expression. "Are you... sure? I'm not sure. In fact, I don't think it is called that."
"No, no," Mako insists, "pretty sure it is."
"No. No way. I will bet real money that you're wrong and I'm right." You grope around under your bed, looking for a pair of shorts you're pretty sure you left said real money in. A few seconds later, you've come up with an orange 25-er and you wave it in Mako's face, "Reaaal moneeey~"
She scrunches her nose, deep in thought. "Screw it. You're on. We'll have someone impartial look it up later, does that work for you?"
You let out a predatory chuckle. "You just need time to find someone dumb enough to loan you 25 C's, don'tcha?"
"I'm hardly broke, I'll have you know. Just, none of it is in cash, and you know what a pain it is to change it out like that," she explains, not actually rejecting the assertion. "Y'know, I've suddenly realized that we've been going about this the wrong was entirely. We've been thinking of friendship in terms of emotional bonds and shared memories and struggling to understand how to fix things here, but really, all we needed to do was to dangle a few banknotes in front of you, maybe on one of those fishing rod things"
Opening your mouth, you start to object when you realize you can't. "Yeah, that might just work. I also accept payment in the form of cash cards and bearer bonds."
Mako sighs. "Just... don't mention the part about how you exchange company for money to any career counselors."
You're struck by the undercurrent of seriousness she can't quite bury. "Don't worry, Mako, I'm not desperate like that. I'm not it dept to Skill Out or anything crazy like that." Even thinking about it turned your stomach a little, so you change the subject. "Let's see if there's anything on TV."
Walking over, you draw a cabinet open to reveal a decent 25" screen. Spinning the remote in your hand like a duelists's pistol, you turn it on and raise the volume from its minimal setting. Regrettably, the mid-morning is something of a wasteland on all seven channels. You eventually settle on a morning talkshow hosted by a pair of smiling robots called Julie and Hideki. Well, they weren't literal robots, but the words that crawled out of their mouths had all the home-cooked freshness of a can of tuna chunks.
They were doing an oddly topical segment on the Level Upper revelations of last night, something far afield from their usual human interest fluff pieces. It was still the last place you expected to encounter any valid or worthwhile opinion, so it was no surprise that Julie was going on at length about how Dr. Martinez was throwing stones at a respected institution and how Yotsuba was equally culpable -- if not moreso -- for giving him a platform to spread his slander.
That's when something remarkable happens: Hideki disagrees. Julie does an honest-to-god doubletake on camera, and the two of you are equally aback. Mako lets out a whistle, which is a little surprising because you didn't think she knew how. "Shit. Guess they can't call it 'Julie and Hideki' next Saturday."
"Don't misunderstand," he says to his stunned co-host, "I'm not saying that he's correct. Frankly, we don't know. However, it's undeniable that this has struck a chord with the student population at large, even those who were never effected by the so-called 'Level Upper'. I thin --- I think it's plain to see," he blocks an attempt to interrupt, "that this gap in trust existed long before Dr. Martinez dropped his bombshell, and I think it's very concerning that we've never noticed
it, never paid attention to it."
Julie is probably physically incapable of not smiling, and you can tell that the blonde woman's current expression is exceptionally fake. "Hideki, you're right, this is nothing new. In fact, Skill Out is a great reminder that this lack of trust exists, and a great warning about what happens when students stop trusting the very schools that look after their every need. When students are mislead, it's a tragedy for them, and it's the city's job to help protect them from that threat."
Hideki looks like a few of his feathers have been ruffled. "You're absolutely correct, absolutely. It's the job of the city to protect students from threats. There's no doubt about that. But, Julie, this is Academy City. If we're considering knowledge to be a threat, I fear that something has gone very wrong. I fear that we're moving away from the principles this city was founded on. And no, I'm not okay with that, and I don't think it's right."
It goes on in that fascinating vein for a few more minutes, before they move on to another segment and interview a cute little esper who teaches animals to dance.
"Terrifying," Mako breathes.
You tilt your head. "What, Hideki having human emotions, or the dancing turtle?"
"Yes."
It's coming up to 11:30, so you decide you should probably start treating it like a real day. "Unless you want to shower with me, you should probably go get lunch or something."
Mako gives you a heavy pat on the back and stands up. "If I wanted to shower with you, I would have closed the door."
"Whatever," you yell after her, "prepare to lose money!"
You start taking off your pajama shirt and you're only halfway there when you here Mako say something like "Good luck" to someone who probably isn't you followed by what sounds like a kick and a very male 'ow.' You hastily reverse your motions and find a very familiar face shaking his right leg. The door closes; Mako must have done it.
A veritable geyser of obscenity wells up inside of you, but you manage to erect a cardboard smile to go with your deer-in-the-headlights stare. You aren't even embarrassed, not really. You're just... fuck. Fuckfuckfuck. "Kojiro."
He looks around, gray eyes following the lines of the room. "I haven't been in your room since we moved to these dorms. Interesting what you've done to the place; very different. Sorry, I uh, guess I should apologize first for the entry. I wasn't planning on barging in, but Mako kind of shoved me in here. At first I was a little mad that you never bothered to tell me, but it looks like you didn't tell them either. It just confuses me more."
You fall back on your bed in defeat, staring at the ceiling. "I don't know if you've noticed, but I've been pretty bad on the whole 'telling people things' deal lately. I've probably treated you the worst, and I'm sorry for that." It's not an exaggeration; you've dreaded speaking with Kojiro because you were so sure he'd be bitter.
"I understand. I'm fine with whatever you chose, but it's just something of a shock. I thought we had something great going, and then suddenly we don't. Not even a word, it just... ends. I can't complain if you move on. I don't own you. But, I wish you'd said something," he says plaintively.
"Wait," you say as your mind catches up. "Are we even having the same conversation here? What are you talking about? You've been a great friend, Kojiro, but when did we ever 'have something great'? Did you just invent this on your own?"
Kojiro keeps a stiff upper lip, but that clearly hurt. "I don't know, Ruiko, what would you call it? Have you forgotten all those times we ate together? Did you purge our starlight dinner at the Glass House Pavilion from your memory? I haven't. Do you think I could forget how we shared that awkward kiss under the fireworks to ring in the new year? I don't know what you call all of that, but I call it 'dating.' I call it 'a relationship.' And yes, I call it 'something special.'"
This is all rather awkward, because the truth was that you'd never called it any of that, or even spared any real thoughts to some sort of broader narrative. To you, they had just been isolated events that happened in the company of someone you liked and trusted. No end or purpose, beyond 'this feels right.' If he had asked, if he had said something, you probably would have even said 'yes' and changed how you saw it, but he never did. He just went along and assumed that you were thinking the same things he was. It's readily apparent now, in hindsight, and looking into his eyes gives you the sense that he's come to understand.
He's not a bad looking guy. Dusty gray hair matches his eyes, and his skin is a little pale, but that just makes him feel mysterious, and you can dig that. In the time you've known him, he's sprung up from about your own height to being maybe eight centimeters taller. You're not crazy about his fashion sense -- it feels to rigid -- but he was a lot better when you were picking out his clo--
Fuck. I was dressing him. "I am such a bitch. I've been giving you nothing but mixed messages since I've known you, haven't I?"
"I wouldn't say that," he says with a slight smile. "You were there for me when I was in trouble, and I was there for you. Nothing so complex there. You don't have to call it love if you don't want to; maybe it wasn't. But it was definitely trust, and that's not nothing."
You're too fond of him to tell him the truth. "Sorry, hotshot," you grin, "but don't get ahead of yourself. It was never going to happen. I'm your Sophia, so why don't you go find your Laura?"
"I'm not sure whether I'm more amazed that you remembered that I read Love and Freindship or more amazed that you turned in into such a bad metaphor. But... I'm okay. Whatever you chose, I'm okay with it. I just want what's best for you, and from where I'm standing, it looks like you're repeating some of the same mistakes you did in the past. Please, be careful." He starts walking away, but brings himself to a stop. "Is it my fault? Was I the one who left you behind?"
"I... I don't know, Kojiro, but I want you to know that I'll never blame you for becoming stronger, even if I can't manage it."
He seems... relieved. "I know it's just words, but I want you to know that I've never once felt special for being a Level Three. Nothing's changed, and I still want to be there for you, and I want to be there with you. It was good talking to you again, Ruiko." With that, he left.
Over lunch at the local Cafe Julian, you take a moment to catch Kuroko up on things. It's not that you're totally distrustful of Gideon and Shiloh, but you're not stupid either. Best to cover your bases. She's using her own inside channels to do a little digging. "The place you're going -- nice place, by the look of it -- is a mixed-use facility rented out to three major clients, but somehow I doubt you're paying a visit to the headquarters of a logistics company or a dentist's office. That leaves Trideo Labs, and they're associated with a group called Uniphase Resources. Uniphase plays things pretty close to the chest, but their name comes up in a few places that lead me to believe that they invest pretty heavily in the sort of bleeding-edge tech development that would attract industrial espionage. To me, that sounds less like a conspiracy and more like good security practice." She waits for some answer, but you're a bit lost in thought. "Oi, Ruiko? You there? Is everything alright?"
"Oh, uh, yeah, I'm fine," you fight through an almost-stutter, "I was just impressed. I've seen you at work, but this is the first time I've seen you investigate something. It really blew me away, how quick you found what you were looking for." It's not a lie, strictly speaking. You are quite impressed.
It's hard to tell if Kuroko sees through your dodge or if she's just a little surprised. "It's not as hard as you think. We have software that does the heavy lifting for us; it's mostly a question of putting the right terms in the right database and not fainting from boredom as you work your way through an avalanche of dull legal documents. It's a bit easy for me because I know what forms are worth starting with, that's all." She takes a long sip out of her parfait. "I take it you heard the news about Level Upper?"
You nod. "I watched the broadcast. He said a lot of the things you did, come to think of it. And before you ask, don't worry: I'll make sure to get a second examination done. I'm sure they were overloaded enough last night. Better to go when there won't be a four-hour wait."
She frowns a little. "You still haven't told me what this trip of yours is really about."
Yes, by design. You don't want to deal with the bother of Kuroko trying to talk you out of it, and you have absolutely no doubt she'd try. "Trust me, I'd tell you if it was sketchy. It's just a tour, nothing else." You get the sense that she wants a bit more, so you offer another concession. "I promise I'll call you it I feel even the least bit threatened or uncomfortable."
"Alright, Ruiko, if you feel safe..." She doesn't really try to hide her skepticism.
"I get that you have a lot of experience with these mad scientist types," you say with a sigh, "but if you treat every single lab like it's part of the conspiracy, there's no way that you're right. Just a couple minutes ago, you were saying that Uni-whatever seems legit!"
"I said nothing of the sort," Kuroko corrects. "What I can find on them seems to be aboveboard, but that could very well be just the tip of the metaphorical iceberg. Even then, that's just Uniphase Resources. I couldn't find anything useful on Trideo Labs. So, yes, I'm being suspicious without proof. Guilty as charged. But the fact that any research institution would reach out to you off the street gives me plenty of reason to doubt them."
You roll your eyes. "It's not nearly as suspicious as you make it out to be. I was out with a friend, we met some of his, and they thought I'd be a good fit based on his recommendation." Close enough to the truth.
Kuroko lays it out plain: "I don't know them, and I don't trust them. From where I'm looking, what they've managed to do is find one of the two helpless people who could be used to draw out Mikoto. A needle in a haystack of three million people"
"Oh. Helpless." You reel back from her. "Is that how you think of me?"
"I didn't mean it like that," Kuroko says quietly, looking down and biting her lip.
"Yeah," you agree, "you probably didn't." You're more than a little unnerved by the bitterness in your own voice. Time to bail before I say something I'll regret. Pulling out the 25er from this morning, you toss it on the table. It's more than enough to pay for both of your meals and dessert. Already replaced. "My treat."
She doesn't try to stop you.
Just as well that you left in a huff, because it was about time to get a roll on. You have the sense that 1:30 wasn't meant as a hard arrival deadline, but you still want to get there as close to that time as possible. And in this case, 'getting there' involves crossing the city. Fortunately, it's a straight shot up the Benavente Line. You wait a little longer at Red Cross for a yellow train, which will only stop at major stations. On this trip, that will cut a 17-stop northward journey down to just six. In a lucky stroke, it happens to be one of the new Akagi-Taylor 800s, which they'd only just started rolling out a year ago to replace the aging Akagi-Taylor 1960s. (Most trains in Academy City were the 700 model, about as old as you are.)
A pang of melancholy strikes when you realize that Kojiro is the only reason you know or care about any of this. He wanted to get a job with ACTA, the Academy City Transit Authority, when he was old enough. Wants, you correct yourself. He isn't dead.
You busy yourself with checking up on your online accounts. A user going by The Missing Mustache has circulated a message called the 'Level Upper Primer-Upper' that serves as a good recap of what's been uncovered about the program, but nothing that's news to you. On a lark, you shoot off a message to several of your most trusted names to see what they have on human cloning in Academy City. While you're at it, you also add an update on the continued non-progress of the search of Misaka Mikoto.
Kuroko sends a message, but you don't read it. You'll get back to her later, when you're more willing to trust yourself.
You're actually making good time when your train pulls into P.H. Müller, where you'll need to switch over to the Prudhomme Line for the last leg. The station is massive; easily the largest in the city. Part of that is because it's built in to a subterranean shopping center that stretches almost a third of the way across District 1. You've never actually been here before, so it's something of a struggle to find the right set of tracks. On the way, you see a surprising number of Judgment members eating lunch in the various restaurants. Oh yeah, Judgment Headquarters is directly above us.
By the time you're finally outbound, you almost wish you'd just walked the remaining two kilometers. Fortunately, it's just a quick hop to Rolland Station, which is both the Prudhomme Line's western terminus and the name of the neighborhood your destination is found in. You've landed in District 8, best known for its relative paucity of schools and for being home to a decent percentage of the city's adult population. (You aren't sure on the figures, but 20% sounds right-ish.) The northern half, however, had more in common with neighboring District 16 and District 1; for the most part, it was chalk full of uninteresting white-collar offices and similar spaces.
Most of the people you see in the street are clearly students, even if you couldn't tell from their conduct alone. Instead of the usual assortment of school uniforms and flashy clothes, these people are positively businesslike, conducting themselves with the sort of composed professionalism that's almost unheard of where you live. They con probably afford to use that damn monorail.
The buildings themselves all look pleasant and sharp, but there's no personality to them like you'd find in, say, District 3. They might as well have all been designed by the same architect -- maybe they had! Once you reach Los Angeles Parkway, you follow the arterial for a short distance until you spot the right place. It's a but easier than you feared, owing to a rare instance of perfectly clear signage.
It's almost 1:45, but you're willing to consider it as 'close enough.' The lobby is predictably uninteresting, and you quickly hunt for Trideo Labs on the directory, cluttered as it is with minor tenants. Looks like it's on the... 17th floor. A quick ride up the elevator brings you to an unassuming but pleasant office. The waiting room is large, but it only has eight chairs in it. Earthy tones dominate, particularly a rich, dark green, and it draws a stunning contrast to the bank of windows along the southwestern wall.
Unable to help yourself, you walk over and touch your fingers to the window. You're just high enough to see over the tops of most buildings in the city, and there's a majestic view to be had. In the distance, you can make out four of Academy City's tallest and most distinctive skyscrapers -- all over 500 meters, you recall -- and a dazzling array of slightly smaller but still impressive towers. A bit to the right, you can just see the shimmering surface of the lake. It was probably seven or eight kilometers away.
"Saten Ruiko?" A voice asks from the previously-unoccupied reception desk.
"That's me," you say as you turn around. "You must not get many visitors."
The receptionist is a pleasant lady a few years older than you. "Most of them are delivering food," she says with a smile. "We might have some chemists here, but you wouldn't want to confuse them for cooks."
"Ruiko, it's good to see you!" That voice is unmistakably Gideon's. A split-second later, his face rounds the corner. "I wasn't sure you were coming, but I certainly hoped. It strikes me that I didn't properly introduce myself last night. I'm Gideon Parish, and I'm one of the directors here. I attended Nagatenjouki for a couple years before leaving their program to strike out on my own. They have some wonderful scientific projects there and brilliant minds to go with them, but I found the oversight there was prone to rewarding the conventional over the groundbreaking. Here, we don't have to deal with that." He invites you back into the lab with a gesture. "Come, let me show you around." He continues from where he left off, "I think the worst part of Nagatenjouki was being the only living human within two kilometers who didn't care the slightest about the All-Blacks, or even about football in general. Not much of a basketball hotspot, that side of the river."
Wait a minute. "How long have you been a researcher?"
He flicks his eyes up, putting together dates. "I must have been 11, or maybe I had just turned 12. Nagaten has a good system for getting kids involved at a young age."
"Is that where you met Shi- er, your wife?"
"Actually, no. She went to a different school, less research-oriented. We first met while doing contract work for an outside company. Anyway, let me show you the most important part." He opens a door from the hallway to what it turns out is a corner room. It's decorated in a way that could pass for either a meditation room or a psychologist's office: a few comfortable chairs, artwork on the wall, a small waterfall nestled in the corner. In the center of the room, there's a slick-looking computer console next to what looks almost like a hyper-ergonomic massage bed.
"Seems kinda light for a virtual reality deal," you remark.
Gideon chuckles. "I'm glad you think so. Actually, there are wires running through the floor to the level below. That's where we've stored the computer banks."
"What's the deal with the straps on the bed? That's a little... uh..."
"Yeah, I hear you," he says with a grimace. "We're required to have those by city protocol, thanks to the 'mind' half of the mind-machine interface. The idea is to prevent the subject from injuring themselves if they have seizures. I have to emphasize that to looks a hundred times worse that it actually is. We've logged over 100 hours without a single incident, and we have no basis to believe that there's a threat of an incident in the future. Out of all the similar projects I know of, I can't think of a single example of an induced seizure."
"So, would I need to be strapped in?" You ask.
"No, not at all. We've only ever used them to make sure they're strong enough to pass inspection." He looks over your shoulder to the door. "Ah, it looks like Dr. Naidoo has finally seen fit to join us."
The newcomer is a male roughly Gideon's age, not terribly tall but decently well built. He has dark skin and a bedraggled look, as well as a pair of round-framed glasses that almost seem like they're for show. To hammer in his doctor-ness, he's also wearing an honest-to-god labcoat. You shoot a skeptical look at Gideon, who doesn't notice. This guy's a doctor? It's not that it's utterly impossible, but you weren't accustomed to those in their teens having advanced degrees.
"Saten Ruiko, correct?" He extends his hand and delivers a pleasantly firm shake. You try to match his tenor, but probably fail. "It's good to meet you. I'm Dr. Timothy Naidoo, but you can just call me 'Tim.' I'm in charge of what we've taken to calling Project Graywire. As a demonstration, we'll run a quick test session with Gideon here."
"We are? Uh, yeah, we are!" Gideon gets with the program quickly. He lays down on the bed and Dr. Tim hands him something that looks like a robot princess' tiara. He sets it on his own head and then adopts the composure of someone willing themselves to sleep.
The Doctor moves to the console, and starts taking in a soothing baritone. "The session will begin in ten seconds. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. Five. Four. Three. Two. The session begins." As he says the last part, he hits a switch. Gideon's small movements cease, leaving him entirely still save for the slow motion of his chest.
Ten seconds later, Gideon's voice comes out of the walls. "I'm inside. The adjustment process is starting." It's all rather fascinating, and more immersive than you'd have guessed. Maybe a minute later, Tim invites you over to stand behind him and look at what he sees. On the screen to his left, there's a real-time readout of Gideon's cerebral activity, with the areas of his brain that correspond to AIM usage distinctly marked but mostly quiet. On the other, there's a pannable window showing Gideon and what he's experiencing. At the moment, he seems to be inside of a library. He picks out a book and opens it, revealing text outside that you're not close enough to make out. "I'd show you how it works with abilities, but mine's not really one we can show off."
You look at Tim. "Can he hear both of us?"
Gideon answers instead. "I can hear everything outside, although it's a weird sensation, because I can also hear things inside of this place. It takes a while to learn how to separate the inputs naturally, so it's a little disorienting at first."
It's as easy to end the session as it is to start it, and the Doctor repeats the same process his did earlier, just in reverse. Not anywhere near as invasive as you'd initially feared on any level.
"I can show you around the rest of the lab if you want," Gideon says as he gently hands to headpiece back. "It's nothing so exciting. The main point of interest is the neurology exam room, which we use for periodical checkups and of course to establish a baseline. No brain surgery involved."
"It'll all feel pretty boring after this, I'm sure!" See, I knew Kuroko was being paranoid.
The Doctor finishes whatever he was doing on the computer to close out the session, and turns to you. "Well, this is the moment of truth. Do you want to take it for a spin or not?"
[ ] Hell yes.
[ ] It's interesting, but I probably shouldn't.
Saten Ruiko
Current Mood: Intrigued
QM's Corner
Sweet god, that utter wreck of an interlude. I've played with a full six different variations, and the best I can manage is that mediocre piece that will only have payoff in the next interlude. Cripes. It's not that I didn't want to write a fight between Shizuri and Kakine, but I know my writing well enough to guarantee it would have ballooned into something much too large to be called an 'interlude' had I kept at it in this batch of updates.
Anyway, my own pride prevents me from offering up the interlude alone, so you got a full update as well, nearly 7000 words of total materiel. I'm reasonably happy with the update, and I feel it presents the full spectrum of Ruiko in a way that hadn't before been done. I've spared particular focus for her past, something that is never really elaborated on in canon beyond 'she's known these three girls for a while.' I'm sure there's more to add here, so if you want me to comment on something, ask away.
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[X] Hell yes.
OctarineShrike
Avatar of Mandos
[X] Hell yes.