Number9Dream (2 page)

‘Osugi and
Bo
sugi.’

I check my clipboard. ‘That’s the badger.’

‘I’m scanning some curious objects in your toolbox.’

‘Newly imported from Germany, ma’am. May I present the ionic flurocarb pellet popper – doubtless you know how crucial pH stability is for the optimum aquarium environment? We believe we are the first aquaculturists in the country to utilize this little wonder. Perhaps I could offer a brief—’

‘Place your right hand on the access scanner, Mr Sogabe.’

‘I hope this is going to tickle.’

‘That is your left hand.’

‘Beg pardon.’

A brief eternity elapses before a green
AUTHORIZED
blinks.

‘And your access code?’

She is vigilant. I scrunch my eyes. ‘Let me see: 313 – 636 – 969.’

The eyes of the ice maiden flicker. ‘Your access code is valid.’ So it should be. I paid the finest freelance master hacker in Tokyo a fortune for those nine numbers. ‘For the month of July. I must remind you we are now in August.’

Cheapskate bum jet-trash hackers. ‘Uh, how peculiar.’ I scratch my crotch to buy myself a moment. ‘That was the access code I was given by Ms’ – a doleful glance at my clipboard – ‘Akiko Kato, associate lawyer at Osugi and Kosugi.’

‘
Bo
sugi.’

‘Whatever. Oh well. If my access code isn’t valid I can’t very well enter, can I? Pity. When Ms Kato wants to know why her priceless Okinawan silverspines died from excrement poisoning, I can refer her to you. What did you say your name was?’

Ice Maiden hardens. Zealous ones are bluff-susceptible. ‘Return tomorrow after rechecking your access codes.’

I huff and shake my head. ‘Impossible! Do you know how many fish I got on my turf? In the old days, we had a bit more give and take, but since total quality management got hold of us we operate within an hour-by-hour timeframe. One missed appointment, and our finny friends are phosphate feed. Even while I stand here nitpicking with you, I got ninety angel-fish at the Metropolitan City Office in danger of asphyxiation. No hard feelings, ma’am, but I have to insist on your name for our legal waiver form.’ I do my dramatic pen-poise pause.

Ice Maiden flickers.

I relent. ‘Why not call Ms Kato’s secretary? She’ll confirm my appointment.’

‘I already did.’ Now I’m worried. If my hacker got my alias wrong too, I am already burger-meat. ‘But your appointment appears to be for tomorrow.’

‘True. Quite true. My appointment was for tomorrow. But the Fish Ministry issued an industry-wide warning last night. An epidemic of silverspine, uh, ebola has come in from a contaminated Taiwanese batch. It travels down air conduits, lodges itself in the gills, and . . . a disgusting sight to behold. Fish literally swelling until their entrails pop out. The boffins are working on a cure, but between you and me—’

Ice Maiden cracks. ‘Anciliary authorization is granted for two hours. From the reception booth proceed to the turbo elevator. Do not stray from the sensor floor arrows, or you will trigger alarms and illegal entry recriminations. The elevator will automatically proceed to Osugi and Bosugi on level eighty-one.’

‘Level eighty-one, Mr Sogabe,’ announces the elevator. ‘I look forward to serving you again.’ The doors open on to a virtual rainforest of pot plants and ferns. An aviary of telephones trill. Behind an ebony desk, a young woman removes her glasses and puts down a spray-mister. ‘Security said Mr Sogabe was coming.’

‘Let me guess! Kazuyo, Kazuyo, am I right?’

‘Yes, but—’

‘No wonder Ran calls you his PanOpticon Angel!’

The receptionist isn’t falling for it. ‘Your name is?’

‘Ran’s apprentice! Joji. Don’t tell me he’s never mentioned me! I do Harajuku normally, but I’m covering his Shinjuku clients this month on account of his, uh, genital malaria.’

Her face falls. ‘I beg your pardon?’

‘Ran never mentioned it? Well, who can blame him? The boss thinks it’s just a heavy cold, that’s why Ran didn’t actually cancel his name from his clients’ books . . . All hush-hush!’ I smile gingerly and look around for video cameras. None visible. I kneel, open my toolbox with the lid blocking her view, and begin assembling my secret weapon. ‘Had a hell of time getting in here, y’know. Artificial intelligence! Artificial stupidity. Ms Kato’s office is down this corridor, is it?’

‘Yes, but, look, Mr Joji, I have to ask you for a retinal scan.’

‘Does it tickle?’ Finished. I close the toolbox and approach her desk with my hands behind my back and a gormless grin. ‘Where do I look?’

She turns a scanner towards me. ‘Into this eyepiece.’

‘Kazuyo.’ I check we are alone. ‘Ran told me, about, y’know – is it true?’

‘Is what true?’

‘Your eleventh toe?’

‘My eleventh
what
?’ The moment she looks at her feet I pepper her neck with enough instant-action tranquillizer micro-pellets to knock out the entire Chinese Army. She slumps on her blotter. I make a witty pun in the manner of James Bond for my own amusement.

I knock three times. ‘Goldfish Pal, Ms Kato!’

A mysterious pause. ‘Enter.’

I check that the corridor is empty of witnesses, and slip in. The actual lair of Akiko Kato matches closely the version in my imagination. A chequered carpet. A curved window of troubled cloud. A wall of old-fashioned filing cabinets. A wall of paintings too tasteful to trap the eye. Between two half-moon sofas sits a huge spherical tank where a fleet of Okinawan silverspines haunt a coral palace and a sunken battleship. Nine years have passed since I last saw Akiko Kato, but she has not aged a single day. Her beauty is as cold and callous as ever. She glances up from behind her desk. ‘You are not the ordinary fish man.’

I lock the door, and drop the key in my pocket with my gun.

She looks me up and down.

‘I am no fish man at all.’

She puts down her pen. ‘What the
hell
do you—’

‘It is a simple matter. I know your name, and you knew mine, once upon a time: Eiji Miyake. Yes,
that
Eiji Miyake. True. It has been many years. Look. We are both busy people, so why not cut the small talk? I am in Tokyo to find my father. You know his name and you know his address. And you are going to give me both. Right
now
.’

Akiko Kato blinks, to verify the facts. Then she laughs. ‘Eiji Miyake?’

‘I fail to see the funny side.’

‘Not Luke Skywalker? Not Zax Omega? Do you seriously expect to reduce me to a state of awed obedience by your pathetic spiel? “One island boy embarks on a perilous mission to discover the father he has never met.” Do you know what happens to island boys once they leave their fantasies?’ She shakes her head in mock pity. ‘Even my friends call me the most poisonous lawyer in Tokyo. And you burst in here, expecting to intimidate me into passing on classified client information?
Please!
’

‘Ms Kato.’ I produce my Walther PK 7.65mm, spin it nattily and aim it at her. ‘You have a file on my father in this room. Give it to me.
Please
.’

She fakes outrage. ‘Are you threatening me?’

I release the safety catch. ‘I hope so. Hands up where I can see them.’

‘You got hold of the wrong script, child.’ She picks up her telephone, which explodes in a plastic supernova. The bullet pings off the bulletproof glass and slashes into a picture of lurid sunflowers. Akiko Kato bulges her eyes at the rip. ‘You heathen! You damaged my Van Gogh! You are going to pay for that!’

‘Which is more than you ever did. The file. Now.’

Akiko Kato snarls. ‘Security will be here within thirty seconds.’

‘I know the electronic blueprint of your office. Spyproofed and soundproofed. No messages in, none out. Stop blustering and give me the
file
.’

‘Such a nice life you could have had, picking oranges on Yakushima with your uncles and grandmother.’

‘I don’t want to ask you again.’

‘If only matters were so simple. But you see, your father has too much to lose. Were news of his whored bastard offspring brat – you, that is – to leak out, it would cause red faces in high places. This is why we have a modest secrecy retainer arrangement.’

‘So?’

‘So, this is a cosy little boat you are attempting to rock.’

‘Ah. I see. If I meet my father you won’t be able to blackmail him.’

‘“Blackmail” is a litigable word for someone still in search of the perfect acne lotion. Being your father’s lawyer calls for discretion. Ever heard of discretion? It sets decent citizens apart from criminals with handguns.’

‘I am not leaving this office without the file.’

‘You have a long wait ahead. I would order some sandwiches, but you shot my telephone.’

I don’t have time for this. ‘Okay, okay, maybe we can discuss this in a more adult way.’ I lower my gun, and Akiko Kato allows herself a pert smile of victory. The tranquillizers embed themselves in her neck. She slumps back on to her chair, as unconscious as the deep blue sea.

Speed is everything. I peel the Akiko Kato fingerpads over the Ran Sogabe ones, and access her computer. I wheel her body into the corner. Not nice – I keep thinking she’s going to come back to life. The deeper computer files are passworded, but I can override the locks on the filing cabinets.
MI
for
MIYAKE.
My name appears on the menu. Double-click.
EIJI
. Double-click. I hear a promising mechanical
clunk
, and a drawer telescopes open halfway down the wall. I leaf through the slim metal carrier cases.
MIYAKE – EIJI – PATERNITY.
The case shines gold.

‘Drop it.’

Akiko Kato closes the door with her ankle, and levels a Zuvre Lone Eagle .440 at the spot between my eyebrows. Dumbly, I look at the Akiko Kato still slumped in her chair. The doorway Kato laughs, a grin twisted and broad. Emeralds and rubies are set in her teeth. ‘A bioborg, dummy! A replicant! You never watched
Bladerunner
? We saw you coming! Our spy picked you up in Jupiter Café – the old man you bought cigarettes for? His vidboy is an eye-cam linked to PanOpticon central computer. Now kneel down – slowly – and slide your gun across the floor.
Slowly
. Don’t make me nervous. A Zuvre at this range will scramble your face so badly your own mother wouldn’t recognize you. But then, that never was her strong point, was it?’

I ignore the taunt. ‘Unwise to approach an intruder without back-up.’

‘Your father’s file is a highly sensitive issue.’

‘So your bioborg was telling the truth. You want to keep the hush money my father pays you all for yourself.’

‘Your main concern should not be practical ethics, but to dissuade me from omeletteing you.’ Keeping her eyes trained on me, she bends over to retrieve my Walther. I aim the carrier case at her face and open the switchclips. The lid-mounted incandescent booby trap explodes in her eyes. She screams, I roll-dive, her Zuvre fires, glass cracks, I leap through the air, kick her head, wrench the pistol from her grip – it fires again – spin her around and uppercut her over the half-moon sofa. Silverspines gush and thrash on the carpet. The real Akiko Kato lies motionless. I stuff the sealed folder on my father down my overalls, load up my toolbox and exit. I close the door quietly over the slow stain already gathering on the corridor carpet. I stroll down to the elevator, casually whistling ‘Imagine’. That was the easy part. Now I have to get out of PanOpticon alive.

Drones fuss around the receptionist still slumped in her rainforest. Weird. I leave a trail of unconscious women wherever I go. I summon the elevator, and show appropriate concern. ‘Sick building syndrome, my uncle calls it. Fish are affected in the same way, believe it or not.’ The elevator arrives and an old nurse barges out, tossing onlookers aside. I step in and press the close button to whisk me away before anyone else can enter.

‘Not so fast!’ A polished boot wedges itself between the closing doors, and a security guard muscles them apart. He has the mass and nostrils of a minotaur. ‘Ground Zero, son.’

I press the button and we begin our descent.

‘So,’ says Minotaur. ‘You an industrial spy, or what?’

Blood and adrenalin swish through my body in strange ways. ‘Huh?’

Minotaur keeps a straight face. ‘You’re trying to make a quick getaway, right? That’s why you nearly closed me in the elevator doors up there.’

Oh. A joke. ‘Yep.’ I rap my toolbox. ‘Full of goldfish espionage data.’

Minotaur snorts a laugh.

The elevator slows and the doors open. ‘After you,’ I say, even though Minotaur shows no signs of letting me go first. He disappears through a side door. Floorpad arrows return me to a security booth. I beam at Ice Maiden. ‘I get to have you on the way in and on the way out? This is the hand of destiny.’

Her eyes dart over a scanner. ‘Standard procedure.’

‘Oh.’

‘You have discharged your duties?’

‘Fully, thank you. You know, ma’am, we at Goldfish Pal are proud to say that we have
never
lost a fish due to negligence in eighteen years of business. We give each a post-mortem, to establish cause of death. Old age, every time. Or client-sourced alcohol poisoning, during the end-of-year party season. If you are free I could tell you more about it over dinner.’

Ice Maiden glaciates me. ‘We have nothing whatsoever in common.’

‘We’re both carbon-based. You can’t take that for granted these days.’

‘If you are trying to disgust me out of asking why you have a Zuvre .440 in your toolbox, I must tell you that your efforts are wasted.’

I am a professional. Fear must wait. How,
how
, could I have been so stupid? ‘That is absolutely impossible.’

‘The gun is registered under Akiko Kato’s name.’

‘Oooh!’ I chuckle, open the box and take out the gun. ‘Do you mean this?’