The Socialite's New Clothes IC
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The Socialite's New Clothes IC
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Ichante nods, absorbing the details. “Let’s go in.”
She checks her gun at the door. She’s not sure if it’s strictly necessary, but it seems polite.
Entering in, Ichante sees the central open-air courtyard and its playground equipment. The jungle gym either looks like it’s pre-Crash or that it was welded together from spare parts, but that doesn’t stop the children from playing on it happily. A mid-morning recess seems to be underway from some elementary-aged children.
“I see they’re wearing uniforms,” Ichante notes.
Magritte nods. “It helps to ensure that the children have what they need, with no shame for those who don’t have sufficient clothes of their own. The uniforms help create a shared identity, a collective sense of belonging, which is a powerful force for children without families. The uniforms promote good values, like pride in your appearance.”
Ichante nods smartly at that. Her mood is lifted because the children seem to be having fun. They don’t seem to be feeling sorry for themselves, so Ichante decides she should either.
A young girl, a daredevil dwarf probably around age 6, climbs to the top of the jungle gym and begins to show off, swinging, balancing, and trying to do a handstand. She slips, bangs her arm hard as she falls through the bars, but is mysteriously arrested before falling face first on the ground. An invisible force sets her down gently, although she cries and nurses her arm. She gets up and races over to Magritte for comfort. Magritte kneels down, hugs the girl, examines the arm, and declares it broken.
“Pardon me,” Ichante says, kneeling down next to the girl. “I thought I recognized myself. I was just like you at your age.” The little girl continues to weep, rubbing her running nose with her good arm while staying within Margitte’s protective embrace. The little girl regards Ichante warily.
“May I?” Ichante asks, holding her hand out. The little girl presents her arm, which is swelling badly. “There there,” Ichante says, not really having much of a practiced bedside manner. She runs her hand slowly up the arm, gently palming the swelling. When she lifts her hand, the swelling is gone. “That’s not so bad now, is it?”
The little girls sniffles, wipes her nose once more, then brightens. “Miss Avenique!” she exclaims, happily holding her arm aloft for inspection anew. Margitte smiles, gives her a clean bill of health, and the girl runs off to continue playing.
“Our infirmary is depleted, so I thank you,” Magritte says. “But there is the issue of moral hazard, and learning from our mistakes.”
“I agree,” Ichante says. “If someone had fought all my battles for me, I wouldn’t be able to fight the new ones myself. But certainly there must be balance, in giving them a fighting chance when they had none before. That seems to be the whole principle behind an orphanage, is it not?”
“That is one of the principles, yes,” Magritte agrees. “Now, would you like to see the classrooms?” She leads the way to the ring of classrooms that circle the interior courtyard.
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Monday Noon, March 7, 2078, Redmond Barrens, Seattle
Tanya follows behind Magritte and Ichante, leaving Ivan discussing security measures with Anton. Magritte takes the other two women on a short tour of the classrooms, noting which ones are on recess in the courtyard. Still two additional rooms are darkened and Tanya asks why. The administrator looks down for a few moments then looks back up. “I have debated telling you because I am not sure what is going on. We have lost four teachers in the past three weeks. Two called in to resign and the other two just stopped coming in. From what a couple of the other teachers have hinted, I think that they were pressured to stay away, and I am pretty sure it is the Kanaga=gumi. Their antiquated thoughts on the rights of metas is well known, as is their desire to own and manage this facility. I also think that they are behind the slowdown of supplies here. The food we are getting is not what it should be in either quality or quantity, and the last run of medical supplies only contained a few bandages and some basic pain killers, certainly not what we usually get. I have tried to open a line of dialogue with the Yak representatives, but each meeting has been postponed for some reason. I know that I probably should have mentioned something to you sooner, but you already do so much for us, however, I am about at the end of my abilities and resources. Can you do anything to help?”
Tanya looks cross for a moment and shakes her head. “Yes, you should have come to me sooner, Magritte. I will see what I can do. It will be interesting to see if the Kagana-gumi leadership will blow me off, as well. I may need to restructure the deal I have with them.”
32
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Ichante nods darkly along with Tanya, a grim expression on her face.
“We’re making do,” Magritte assures them. “I put some of the resident women here to work in the classroom. They’re not trained teachers, and they’re often undereducated themselves, but the can provide care and supervision.”
“I see they’re having snack,” Ichante points out.
Magritte nods. “Nutrition is very important, but one of our maxims is ‘don’t let the perfect get in the way of the good’. At a certain point, they need calories to learn and grow, even if they’re not ideal.
“The resident women help us cook, and we have some of the older children involved too since competence in the kitchen is a valuable life skill. We try to do a hot breakfast every day, unless the power is out. AlmostEgg and BacoSoy are our staples, but I’ll feed the kids Maxiblast Sugar Bombs – red, green, or purple – if I have to. Snack could be anything from crackers and peanut butter” – Ichante beams at her correct prediction – “to soynuts and Zap-corn. For lunch, we try to cook something from scratch using flour, raw nutrisoy and flavor additives, krill filler, textured vegetable protein, you name it. Dinner might be soypasta with sauce, ramen noodles, or Cup-O-Soup products.”
“What’s for lunch today?” Ichante asks as they continue to tour.
Magritte looks nonplussed. “Pizza,” she says, “but we missed a key shipment yesterday. We’ll make the dough ourselves with flour, and the toppings will be soy cheese and nutritional yeast, but the sauce will be ketchup.” Her twisted lips look apologetic.
Ichante tries to comfort her. “What we do isn’t enough, but it is very important that we do it.”
Magritte smiles slightly. “Mahatma Gandhi,” she says. “Although the attribution is disputed.”
Ichante looks around. To her sharp eyes, there are no signs of vermin, nor barely any signs of dirt. She points out as much.
Magritte’s expression turns proud. “Ah, watch this!” she says. A bell rings to signify the end of the recess period. Instead of returning to their classrooms, the playing children run to grab brooms, dustpans, and cloths. They work in teams of four: two students sweep into the dust pan held by the third, while the fourth runs the cloth over the floor.
“From a practical standpoint, the children and residents don’t go out much, so very little dirt is tracked inside.”
Ichante reflexively looks down at her boots and feels guilty until she remembers that ever since she came back from Texas, she hasn’t really been leaving footprints anymore. She can walk without a trace or a sound, which – after almost 30 years to the contrary – is still unnerving to her.
“Oh, no, don’t bother feeling bad. If anything, they’ll be excited to actually have something to clean. You can thank the Japancorps for the idea. The concept is called Gakko Soji.”
“School cleansing,” Tanya translates for Ichante’s benefit.
“The children learn that if they are using a particular space, it is their duty and responsibility to ensure that they leave that space clean. We don’t have any janitors on staff. The younger children sweep and mop and do the dusting. The older children do the kitchen and bathrooms. It embeds the idea that no work – not even cleaning – is menial. It boosts teamwork as students help each other to get their work done. This builds a mindset of being mindful about others and empathizing more.”
“Is there a nursery?” Ichante asks.
“Yes, of course. Please follow me this way. Many of the infants are having their morning nap, so let us be quiet.”
Ichante follows along silently, her footsteps magically hushed to a degree that would make an art thief envious.
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Monday Noon, March 7, 2078, Redmond Barrens, Seattle
Tanya continues to follow the other two, impressed with the questions Ichante asks. The woman seems to be genuinely interested in the running of the orphanage. Tanya notes quietly that Ichante begins to walk as if she was not quite touching the ground, but Tanya can see that is not the case. The woman has done………….something…………..to allow her to move silently without leaving any tracks on the floor. All in all, the girl seems to more of a mage or adept every time they meet and she might want to have a chat with her to see what she is really capable of.
The three walk into the nursery, a largish room with sixteen cribs, only four of which are empty at the moment. Three young women and one middle-aged supervisor are tending to the babies, a few of which are squalling for attention. Tanya looks over at Ichante and nods to one of the unattended children. “Go ahead, if you like. I am sure the help will not be turned away.”
Magritte looks over and smiles as she nods. “Of course, help yourself. There is formula over there and water in the sink.”
33
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Ichante swoops in a scoops up a fussing baby dwarf before it wakes the others. She’s always been fairly indifferent to children, but recently she’s been feeling some… pangs of maternity. Not so much that she needs children of her own, but that she needs to care for those who can’t care for themselves.
“Shh, there there,” she whispers with a power shush. “There there.”
The baby doesn’t need feeding, just a bit of rocking and bouncing. Once the baby is back asleep, Ichante places it back in a crib as gently as someone defusing a bomb.
There’s a louder commotion. A baby troll is howling for attention and, being a troll, is closer in size to a large toddler. The women on hand are having a hard time with the child’s size and strength. Ichante tries help manually but is quickly reminded that she’s not particularly strong for a dwarf, the unfortunate side effect of using magic to lift heavy things rather than training her muscles to do it.
She isn’t going to get any physically stronger in the next three seconds, so she casts some telekinetic arms and hands for herself. She still goes through the motions of holding the baby near her chin and chest, because trolls need as much physical affection as anyone, but the reality is that her arms aren’t doing most of the work. This baby is hungry and quickly drains 250ml of formula. And then another 250ml, then another, then another, until finally it’s had a full liter and it passes out contentedly. The troll’s horn digs into Ichante’s chest but she sucks it up and deals with it.
“You wouldn’t believe the diapers,” the middle-aged supervisor mutters under her breath.
Ichante puts the troll down so that it can sleep. Peace has been restored for the moment. The visitors excuse themselves from the nursery.
“It’s an impressive institution,” Ichante tells Magritte in the hallway. “Your efforts are commendable.
“Outside of the obvious need for additional resources – which, I presume, the needs are limitless given the number of SINless not just in the district but in the city and the world beyond – where do you need help? We’ll try to come to an understanding with the Kanada-gumi as quickly as possible.” She makes eye contact with Tanya to confirm the intention. “But outside of that, what are your troubles?”
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Monday Noon, March 7, 2078, Redmond Barrens, Seattle
Magritte looks down at the floor for a moment then calmly looks back at Ichante. “Well, to be honest, we need people like you. Someone who is not afraid to help and is willing to get their hands a bit dirty in the process. It is not enough to just try and throw money at the problem, because that will not solve the problem. Sure, it will make a difference in the lives of the people that are fortunate enough to get to us……….” She throws up her hands and looks around directly at Tanya. “Mon Dieu! Did you just hear what I said? But, yes, these unfortunate people are very fortunate indeed to find us or be brought to us. We can change lives and make a difference. Tanya, you know that. I think that you are one of the few people who knows that, and you are willing to come down here and help out as you can.” She turns back to Ichante, a bit of fire in her eyes. “And you, you have come to see what is going on here. For that I am grateful, because maybe you will now do something to help even more than just seeing us and maybe spreading the word to your wealthy friends. Maybe you can help here? Tanya or one of her close friends, a kind oriental woman by the name of Song Ai, come here about once a week to help out with reading to the children or trying to pass on some knowledge. Sometimes it is Tanya’s maid, Monique that comes in her place. She is a wonderful cook and teaches some cooking classes here when she drops by. I am sure that you have talents or skills that you can share. Just a little goes a long way, and you may find someone really worth saving.”
She pauses and seems to gather her breath then motions with her arms to the wall. “The world out there is already changing a bit just from us being here. Song Ai used some of her contacts in Chinatown to get a small street clinic up and going just down the block. The owners do not speak much English, but it is getting better, and they use a lot of natural healing techniques and medicines. Lots of herbal things I never heard of, but they seem to work and I am all for that. Song Ai subsidizes them so they do not charge much for their services, but nothing is free. They are training two of the women who came to the shelter and stayed. And the rest of the patients they get usually work off their bills with work around the clinic and the area around it. Cleaning up trash and making things a bit nicer for everyone. Beyond that, a couple of shops have moved into some ruined buildings. I understand that they received small grants from the Marisart Foundation and are trying to make a go of things. All in all, these are small steps, but they are working. The neighborhood is already better off, and if this can work in a small place like this, just a couple of blocks of ruined buildings and ruined lives, what could it do if it was expanded? There must be something that you can offer to people in need. A little time, some training, a bit of money? Who knows what your gain would be?” The woman looks at Ichante with anticipation and hope in her eyes.
34
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Ichante nods. There’s a part of her that wonders what the value is of helping these children, as certainly there are children who need help closer to home, like in the Underground. But Ichante is here, and Magritte is asking for help now, and that is a powerful thing to Ichante’s magic. There is a woman that Ichante has been seeing in visions, Ptesáŋwiŋ, who is sacred to the Lakota. Back home, in the Sioux Nation, there is a whole society – Ptī′take Ō′xat’e – dedicated to this woman, and upholding her ideals by protecting women and children from domestic violence. It seems to Ichante that she should do the same; there is something inside of her compelling her to help.
“Very well,” she says. “I am no instructor but I confess to being, mm, domestic. Let me learn the rhythms of the place and slip into them the best I am able. I need to conclude some business this week but I will return this weekend. Living in Seattle, one should not trust a weather forecast more than 24 hours in advance, but the current forecast for the weekend is wet and windy, perhaps even snowy, with a storm blowing down from Athabaska. I presume it will be too cold to comfortably play in the courtyard, so I will provide some entertainment. Popcorn and a show? Saturday morning cartoons, as it were. We’ll go from there.”
She thanks Magritte for her hospitality, exchanges commcodes, and collects her weapon from the front.
“Do we have an escort for the return trip, or is Ivan O’Reilly on guard duty now?” she asks Tanya near the front entrance. “And tell me about the Kanaga-gumi, and what it might take to, ah, make them see reason. Specifically, our reason.” There’s a bit of fire in her eyes as asks. Not literal fire, but maybe soon.
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Monday Noon, March 7, 2078, Redmond Barrens, Seattle
Magritte gets a bit emotional and moves forward to embrace Ichante warmly. “Thank you. Thank you so much. That is exactly the sort of help we need the most. It will help the ripple effect, you know. If you can teach a trade or skill to some of these women, it will move outward and help the entire neighborhood. You just wait and see.”
As the tour ends, she looks back at Ichante. “You know, bring what you want and we will adapt to it. The children need entertainment of some kind, so anything along that line will help. They are used to most of what we have here and can get bored, so something, anything, new would be well appreciated.”
She escorts her guests to the door and embraces both women, especially thanking them for coming to visit and wanting to help. Tanya watches Ichante pick up her firearm and nods. “We have an escort for going back. Ivan and four of the people that came with us will be staying, but Anton and the four that were already here will be coming back with us. You know, I have to say that I am impressed with you and think that you have hidden talents. I usually do not bother with an escort unless I am coming out on shift change day, and I think that we can avoid using one on Saturday, unless you feel it is necessary. Would it be possible for me to come with you?”
35
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Ichante looks vaguely uncomfortable with Magritte’s physical affection. She awkwardly pats Magritte on the back during the hug, then detaches herself. “As I said, I’m no teacher,” she reminds her. “But, at the same time, I do know a trick or two.”
Her voice drops a couple octaves as she speaks to Magritte and Tanya. “If it hasn’t been done yet, or if it hasn’t been done recently, let’s scan the children for traces of Talent. If any of them are Awakened, we’ll want to know as soon as possible. Both so that they can get the training they need, but also so that they don’t hurt themselves, or others.”
She smiles and excuses herself with Tanya back into the cold air of the Barrens.
“I caught a whiff of it while I was in there,” Ichante tells Tanya when they’re outside. “Wasn’t sure if it was one of Ivan’s crew. At the kids’ age, spells and spirits can be more accidental than anything else. Just brief little flickers, so small that you’re not sure if they’re real or just a random fluctuation of mana. If the corps are willing to drop a mage mask on a full grown adult before shoving them into a stepvan and speeding off, you better believe they’ll do it to an adolescent. The last thing this place needs is an extraction team kicking down the doors.”
She starts to walk. “You can come back Saturday. I don’t own the place. I’m not going to tell you where you can and can’t be.” She looks around the Barrens, including the squatters looking at them hungrily. “Oh, you meant ‘with me’ instead of with an escort crew. Yeah, null persp.”
She thinks about the ‘hidden talents’ compliment, which is likely fishing for information. That’s fine, prudent even. “I have 52 cards in the deck, just like everyone else.” Ichante deflects. “But it also might be true that I have more face cards than your average deck.
“But, seriously, let’s talk about the Kanaga-gumi, what the current arrangement is, and what your plan is. How’s your Japanese?”
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Monday Afternoon, March 7, 2078, Redmond Barrens, Seattle
Tanya pauses then continues her walking. “I had not given that much thought and I am embarrassed that I did not. Is that something that you can do, the scanning for latent talent? If you do find one, or more, what would the next step be? Do we send them off for training somewhere? I might have a contact that can set that up, if so. And, yes, I would like to come out with you on Saturday.” She chuckles and smiles. “More face cards, eh? I have not heard of magic being referred to in such a manner before.”
She seems lost in thought for a few moments then nods to Ichante. “The Kagana-gumi issue, yes. The current situation is that I pay a smallish tribute to them to leave my interests here in this neighborhood alone and to allow travel back and forth, although the travel usually requires an additional small payment. Right now, the costs are very marginal due to some work I did for them a while ago. But it seems that they, or at least some of them, are growing restless. I need to do something about these interruptions to the supply and medicine deliveries. If they are trying to see how much they can mess with me, I need to stop that before it gets even more serious. I think I will need to have a meeting with them to iron some things out. My Japanese is actually pretty good, how is yours?”
36
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“I know the names of my favorite nigiri,” Ichante says dryly. “Maguro, hamachi, sake.
“But I also pick up languages fast. I can pick up the basics in a morning or an afternoon. Five hours, tops. But only if someone is speaking to me in person. It doesn’t work just listening to a linguasoft.”
Ichante’s ears perk up a bit at the mention that Tanya has done some ‘work’ for the Kanaga-gumi. What sort of work would Lady Marisart do for the yakuza? she wonders to herself.
“Are you thinking of going now, while we have the escorts? If so, I can polish your image a bit. Enhance you, make you a bit more inviting. If I get a good lock it lets me pretend I’m an elf for a little while. A short elf.
“As for the kids, yes, the idea would be to relocate any of them with Talent to an institution that could develop their abilities safely. But it also calls into question what path we would put them on, and where it will lead them. Corporate life isn’t for everyone, but it is warm under the dragon’s wing.”
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Monday Afternoon, March 7, 2078, Redmond Barrens, Seattle
Tanya smiles and shrugs. “Leaving or going is up to you, actually. The escort is returning to Touristville in a few minutes, but I can take you on a short tour of this amazing neighborhood if you like. There is some real rebuilding going on, and not all of it financed by me. Shops are opening and people are generally doing better here than they were a couple of years ago, and most of it can be put down to a few hardy souls that just do not give up. I, too have a talent for learning languages and, if you like, I can speak Japanese with you as we walk. Please talk to me about these small enhancements that you can do for me. I am sure that my image can use a little polishing.”
She pauses a bit then continues. “I have a couple of mage contacts that might be willing to give us some advice, but please reach out on your own, if you would like to.” Tanya gives a short bark of laughter. “Sorry. I am not laughing at you. It is just that a part of my life is very tied up with ancestors and dragons, and I do not mean the corporate types. The ones I am interested in are mostly symbolic, but they do manage to affect my life.”
“So, what is it to be? Do we go back with the escort or stay a while and enjoy the day?”
37
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Ichante frowns, frustrated. “I’m not really looking to enjoy the day. Or, more accurately, what I would enjoy is kicking some yaks in the nuts.
“But since that’s inadvisable, I’d say let’s go get in their faces about your arrangement.”
Ichante is more accustomed to the Puyallup Barrens, where the locals have so little that the Kenran-kai basically have to provide meaningful services because so there’s so little to extract from the local economy. It seems that Touristville must be doing better, or at least reasonably well, if the Kanaga-gumi is basically just stealing.
“I have two options. The first is a spell that just gives you a healthy glow. It improves your circulation, tightens your skin, makes it look like you’re well-hydrated and slept 12 hours the night before. The effects last about a day. Little old ladies love it; they get it like a daily facelift.
“The other is more substantial. It’s more like a personality improvement, or something that makes you more appealing in the eyes of the viewer. There will just be this aura around you that makes it easier to communicate with people and to have them see things your way. As I said, I just imagine that it’s what daily life is like for elves, but the rest of us have to work harder for it.
“This is your relationship so you get to say how it plays out, but I say let’s polish up a bit and go renegotiate your understanding. Once that’s done, I’ll go celebrate with a bowl of noodles. But, until then, I’m not going to rest easy knowing that these guys are stealing from orphans.”
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Monday Afternoon, March 7, 2078, Redmond Barrens, Seattle
Tanya considers her options then nods. “Alright, we can do this today. Let’s return to Touristville and then on back to a hotel where I can meet Monique and change clothes. You can work your skills on me there as well. Would you care to accompany me when I go meet with the Kagana-gumi?”
38
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“Yeah, let’s make this happen,” Ichante answers with a steely look in her eye.
She’s not as talkative on the walk back to Touristville. She seems to be stewing, or concentrating very hard on something. It’s actually causing her to be less aware of her surroundings; she seems to be trusting the escort, or her extra senses, to alert her to danger.
They make it back to Touristville – although Ichante barely registers the change in locations – and their escorts put them back on the bus headed westbound. The (armored) bus incurs a few potshots from bored gangers with zipguns, then heads west on 520 toward more civilized destinations. A few stops later and they’ve crossed into the relative peace and security of Bellevue. They meet Monique at the Bellevue version of Wylie’s Gala Inn, a local franchise. The Bellevue one isn’t as nice as the flagship hotel in downtown Seattle, but it still features decorations that make it look like an old-style film noir in the Golden Age of Hollywood. There aren’t many amenities, which helps keep the prices low, but that’s fine for Tanya’s purposes. Monique meets them there with a change of clothes.
“What do you plan to wear?” Ichante asks, curious how its different from what she’s currently wearing. “Is this a formal affair? Alright, sit and let me do my thing.”
Ichante stands behind the sitting Tanya. The shorter woman puts her hands on top of Tanya’s head, then closes her eyes. She concentrates, imagining the warm Sioux sun and the cool steam waters and the promise of spring. She tries to focus these memories into Tanya’s health and skin, although Tanya’s altered essence makes this a good deal harder than Ichante is used to. Exhaling over her, Ichante tries to breath some of the spirit of Wakȟáŋ Tȟáŋka over Tanya, giving her the leadership and presence of White Buffalo Calf Woman. The breath turns into a cough, which Ichante tries to muffle so that she’s not sneezing on Tanya’s head. She’s hit with a pang of a headache, like a stabbing sensation behind her eye. She lifts her hands and takes a step back, opening her non-throbbing eye to see how she did.
“Wiz,” she says with a small croak. Tanya is beaming and radiant and looks like a force of nature that won’t be put aside by feeble excuses or half-hearted apologies. “Let’s go get ’em, tiger.”
Spoiler: -
Monday Afternoon, March 7, 2078, Redmond Barrens, Seattle
As Tanya and Ichante walk into the Bellevue, she spies Monique siting on one of the sofas designed to replicate a different age. The entire lobby radiates the same, last century look, as do the uniforms worn by the staff. Monique rises from the settee with a catlike grace, dangling an old-fashioned key from one finger and holding a substantial garment bag from her other hand. The lift is ancient and gives a fit as it starts up to the third floor, where the three women get off and head to the room Monique has arranged for.
In the room, Tanya quickly strips from the clothing she is wearing and slips into the shower as Monique hangs the garment bag and begins removing clothing from it. She looks over to where Ichante is standing and nods. “Bon. It is nice to see you again, Mademoiselle. I trust that your walk this morning was not too difficult? Do you intend to accompany Madame to her meeting and will you need some different clothing? I took the liberty of packing you something a bit more formal if you are. The fit may not be perfect, but I brought some sewing supplies as well, so that you can alter things as needed.”
Tanya does not seem to be the type to waste water and emerges from the bathroom a few minutes later, toweling herself dry. “Shower is yours, Ichante, if you need it. Ah, Monique, cher, you have brought the exact thing. What would I do without you?”
Tanya slips into genuine silk undergarments and stockings, sighing at the feel of the material against her skin. Her business suit is dark blue and cut as a classic “power suit”. Her blouse is a slightly lighter shade of blue, with the accompanying half-tie the same hue as the pants and jacket. Around her neck, she puts a silk choker to match the blouse. Her hair is slightly longer than earlier and falls straight to just about the middle of her back in a long ponytail fastened with silver medallions at her head and the end of the ponytail. She slips a silver bracelet on each wrist and a simple ring on the forefinger of both hands. Her shoes are just off of being sensible, with three-inch heels.
Tanya sits calmly as Ichante stands behind her and works her small miracles, although she is concerned about her new friend’s health for a few moments. Ichante seems to shrug off what she is feeling and Tanya guesses that it has something to do with the magic that was used. She turns to look at herself at all angles in the mirror and looks over at Ichante. “Very nice, my dear, very nice indeed. I feel more than ready. Can I put you on retainer or something?”
39
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“Sure,” Ichante croaks. She takes a drink of water and her voice recovers somewhat. “I do good business leading up to gala parties. The manager of Lordstrung’s calls me to polish her VIP clients.”
She scratches her head, looking over Lady Marisart’s look. “I dunno,” she says. “I’ve never dressed up to talk to the Yaks before. The Kenran-kai in Puyallup are pretty informal. They’re more like a… neighborhood watch with criminal tendencies. The oyabun, Kosuke Tomizawa, doesn’t sit in a Japanese rock garden, writing haikus in calligraphy and meditating about the meaning of life.
“Before I change, what’s our play here? Does it benefit you if I look a specific way? Not like a dwarf, for example. Should I go as a man, perhaps? Even a Japanese man? But I don’t speak a lick, so I don’t want to get called out. This is your scene, not mine, so tell me what would help and what would hurt.”
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Monday Afternoon, March 7, 2078, Redmond Barrens, Seattle
Tanya nods. “Oyabun Shitomo Tanaka is a bit more formal than that. He also does not sit in a zen garden making origami cranes, but he is more the benevolent gangster. He enjoys displaying his fine things and has a particularly nice collection of jades from the Han Dynasty and some good Ming pottery in his house in Edgewater. He sits in court there and reaps the benefits of his illegal activities, of which he is involved in many.”
“He has agreed to see me on short notice, which is a bit surprising, to be honest. I had actually thought that I would have to wade through several layers of lieutenants to get this meeting and I surmise that he already knows what I want and has something he wants in trade. Monique has been with me before, as my personal assistant and the holder of my attache case. She will reprise that role today, but I think this might be a good experience for you, as well. I would not risk going as a Japanese man if you do not know the language, but a well-dressed guard would not be out of character. I will leave it to you as what you will look like as you know yourself best.”
40
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Ichante nods, trying to puzzle out the best approach. A triple-A neighborhood like Edgwater is going to have good security and SIN checks, but none of Ichante’s SINs identify her as a strapping two-meter male, so there’s a risk of a disconnect between her appearance and her identity.
“I’ll travel as myself,” she says, “but when we get to his compound I’ll make myself into a female human. I’ll pose as security. If he’s used to seeing you and Monique then in theory he shouldn’t be surprised by a female bodyguard.”
She showers, pulls on her Second Skin, then some business clothes over it. Inhaling deeply, she casts a quick spell to fit the clothes snugly to her frame; the suit practically shrink-wraps itself to Ichante, like all the air had been sucked out of it. She exhales and a small gap appears between her armor and her clothes, providing just enough space for some freedom of movement. Her Evanator creates more of a bulge than she’s comfortable with, so she leaves it in the holster of her Wild Hunt jacket. She’ll leave the jacket in the car, because if she needs a gun at a meet with the oyabun then things have gone terribly, terribly sideways. It’s one thing to present strength, but blasting your way out of an oyabun’s compound is a practical death sentence.
The trio get in the car and start the drive up 405. Instead of merging with I-5, as most of the traffic does, they continue on Highway 525 which delivers them directly to Mukilteo (after passing by a large Federated Boeing airfield popular with corpers eager to avoid hoi polloi at SeaTac, or who want to take helicopters to their rooftop helipads in downtown Seattle), from which it is only a kilometer to Edgewater.
“So pretty,” Ichante says, looking out the window. Heavily wooded Whidbey Island is just across a few kilometers of water. Despite growing up in a very different environment, Ichante always seems to feel a kinship of sorts with NAN lands. She’s accustomed to the wealth of downtown Seattle, with its tall buildings and grand condominiums, but there’s still a regal presence that comes from large estates with spacious gardens and walled compounds. Ichante closes her eyes and imagines growing taller, her ears rounding out, and her looks more closely mirroring Monique’s and Lady Marisart’s appearance.
They drive down Shore Avenue until they arrive at a brick driveway with an ornate gate and a small guardhouse. Behind the gate, crash-rated retractable bollards pop up from the ground to prevent anyone from getting far if they ram the gate. A stern-looking Japanese male with an SCK Model 100 on a sling glares out at the new arrivals through a thick layer of armored glass. Just down the drive, two more Japanese men with black suits and Yamaha Raidens stand sentry on either side of the bricks.
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Monday Afternoon, March 7, 2078, Edgewater Home of Kagana-gumi Oyabun, Seattle
Tanya and her companions finish up in the room and head down to the lobby via the pseudo-rickety lift, emerging into the spacious room. A man in the uniform of the Gates Hotel is standing in the lobby as if waiting for them and Tanya walks up to him, giving him kisses on his cheeks. “Good afternoon, Frederick. You are looking well. How is your wife and that strapping son of yours?”
The man smiles as he takes the garment bag from Monique. “They are doing just fine, thank you, Miss Marisart. Wilma is always after me to invite you back for another dinner, and Klaus is doing quite well at school, but then I imagine you already know that since he told me that he was talking with you just a couple of days ago.”
Monique laughs. “You are so busted, Mademoiselle. Merci, Frederick, thank you for coming out to pick us up.”
The man almost blushes as he looks at Ichante and nods. “Good afternoon, Miss. The car is this way.”
He leads the three women out of the hotel where they see a shiny Mistubishi Nightsky sitting at the curb. The driver opens the trunk and puts the garment bag in before opening the door to the spacious passenger compartment. He helps each women in before closing the door and walking around to the front driver’s compartment. Tanya gives him the destination and if he is familiar with the address, he does not let on as the large auto glides almost noiselessly from the curb.
The ride is smooth and silent. Monique offers the others a drink from a selection of fruit juices, but is otherwise as quiet as the ride. The car pulls up to its destination and the driver lowers his window to identify himself and his passengers. Although there are three obvious guards near the gate, Tanya’s sensors pick out eight more within their range. She sits quietly and calmly as the guard checks their identities and smiles as the crash barriers are lowered and the car is allowed to enter the compound. Tanya looks at Ichante as the car wends its way through an artfully designed drive, heading for the large house in the near distance.
The welcoming committee at the front steps is impressive. No fewer than six Yakuza hard men are arrayed behind three other men. The soldiers are all wearing tailored suits that cleverly disguise any weapons they might be carrying, but all of their suits combined would not cost what the central figure is wearing. One of the two men standing next to the central figure steps forward to open the passenger door, assisting the three women from the car, which pulls away to a large parking area.
Tanya approaches the steps, stopping a specific distance from the man in the center. The two exchange bows to each other and some words in cultured Japanese. Tanya motions with a hand and Monique steps forward, holding a very nice attache case. She expertly balances the case and opens it facing the man. Tanya motions to the case and there is another exchange of words and some more bows. At Tanya’s nod, Monique closes the case and hands it over to the man on the right. Tanya then motions to Ichante to approach closer and introductions are made. “Inoue Tanaka, I have hired a new guard since last we met. Her name is Ichante and she has proven to be quite resourceful in my employ. Ichante, I would like to introduce you to Inoue Tanaka, the oldest son of oyabun Shitomo Tanaka.”
The central man bows to Ichante. “I am sure that the pleasure is mine. You must be talented indeed to have come to the attention of Miss Marisart. You are welcome in our home.”
The pleasantries out of the way, Inoue motions for Tanya to walk beside him as he turns to go up the steps to the front entrance of the house. The two men that had been by him take up positions just behind them, with Monique and Ichante coming up behind them.
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