Stones (Data) (26 page)

As near as Matt can tell, most of the students are busy with their jaxes, bobbing their heads to internal music or just sleeping. No one looks up except for one student in the back next to him.

“Can anyone tell me what the Three Sacred Treasures are?” Professor Yamamoto clears his throat with the hint of a smile on his face. He waits patiently, in no apparent hurry to answer the question himself.

Half a minute passes before the students become aware that Professor Yamamoto has stopped talking. The silence is broken only by the nervous looks of students and some feverish jaxing under their desks.

From the back of the room, Matt raises his hand. Professor Yamamoto motions for him to stand. The other students turn their heads to focus on the unlucky victim.

Matt coughs into his hand. “The Three Sacred Treasures are a sword called the
Kusanagi
, a mirror called the
Yata no Kagami
, and a jewel called the
Yasakani no Magatama
.” He looks back at Professor Yamamoto and raises his eyebrows slightly, doing his best to mimic the emotionless stare of the other students. And then he sits down.

“Impressive.” Professor Yamamoto points his jax at Matt. “You know more about Japanese mythology than our homegrown students. Does anyone recall what became of the Three Sacred Treasures?”

At this point, every student is searching the Mesh, obviously fearful of becoming the next victim. Professor Yamamoto gets a grin on his face and holds up his own jax. With nimble fingers, he plays a sequence on its side, and it emits a sound like a flushing toilet. In unison, the students raise their faces with a look of surprise mixed with desperation.

All jaxes in the room have ceased to function.

“I recently received a special gift from the University. It’s very convenient, as it turns out.” He holds up his hand and shows off his old-model jax. “Some new code only available to professors. I hear it’s called a jax-jammer. I thought I would try it out today, and I’m happy to see it works.” Professor Yamamoto walks across the front of the room. “Let’s see if Matt-
kun
, our friend from
Amerika
, can answer from memory without help from anyone.”

Matt thanks Professor Yamamoto for lobbing him such an easy pitch and stands again, hands thrust deep into his pockets. “According to legend,” Matt begins, “the Three Sacred Treasures were given to the first emperor of Japan, Emperor Jimmu, in 660 B.C. They have been passed down to each emperor in the Imperial House since that time as part of their enthronement ceremony.”

The other students look up at him with equal measures of admiration and contempt.

Professor Yamamoto takes a step forward. “So the Three Treasures still exist today?”

“Yes, according to legend, they exist and are under the control of Emperor Hisahito.”

“And what exactly do they look like, this sword, mirror and jewel?”

Matt fiddles with the Stone in his pocket. “No one knows. Only the Emperor and a few Shinto high priests are allowed to see them. No photos have ever been taken. None exist on the Mesh. I’ve looked and haven’t been able to find any.” Matt waits for another question.

Professor Yamamoto nods his head and motions for Matt to sit down. “Very good, Matt-
kun
.” The professor points his jax at the back of the room and the lights come back on.

After the lecture, they meet for lunch in the University cafeteria and sit in the section reserved for faculty and graduate students.

“You love curry rice too, I see.” Professor Yamamoto chuckles as he looks at the generous helping on Matt’s plate. “Perhaps that is why you have grown so tall.”

“
Maa maa desu ne
.” Matt does a short, quick bow with his head. “It’s not as good as my dad’s, but any curry is good curry.” Using the large spoon, he vigorously mixes the golden sauce on one side into the steamed rice on the other side of the plate.

“I must say you have a very interesting way of arranging your food.” Professor Yamamoto draws his spoon down the line that divides the curry from the rice on his plate. “I prefer to keep them separate and distinct.”

Matt nods.

Very Japanese,
he thinks.
Everything compartmentalized, packaged and neat.

“It reminds me of my mother.” Matt says. “She used to scold me for making a mess of my food.” He looks out the window at the green leaves of a sycamore tree against the sky. They flutter like butterfly wings in a gentle breeze.

“She was a good student.” Professor Yamamoto dips a large potato chunk out of his curry and balances it on his spoon. “I had her in one of my Chinese history classes when she was a freshman. So many years ago. I can see her in you.”

“My father says the same thing.” Matt shifts his gaze from the window back to his curry. “But no matter how many times I look in the mirror, I don’t see it.”

“You carry her in your heart. All that she was, all that she taught you. It’s there inside.” Professor Yamamoto raises his water glass and points it at Matt.

In spite of attempts to blink it away, Matt’s eyes mist over. “I miss her. I miss the life we had before she was taken away.” His fingers wander down into a pocket to touch the Stone.

“How is your father?” Professor Yamamoto bends forward.

“Still the same.” Matt grabs a mouthful off his spoon. “Always afraid of who or what may be watching us. Just like me.” His eyes scan the cafeteria.

“He is a good man. There has been much suffering in his life. He tries hard to protect you. It must have been hard for him to let you go.”

“It was,” Matt says. “But I needed to get away. It’s going to be great being here for the summer.” He takes a big bite of curry, hoping to change the subject. Professors and graduate students are sitting in groups on all sides, but they stay away from the table where he is eating, as if they don’t want to associate with him.

It must be because he’s an American.

Professor Yamamoto’s eyes follow Matt’s gaze. “Don’t worry. It’s not you. It’s me. They think I’m an old fool.” He dips a spoonful of the red pickled radish out of the glass container on the table between them. Bushy white eyebrows dance on top of his eyes. “After all, I do research on Japanese folk tales and mythology. That makes me an embarrassment to the University.” He laughs to himself and then takes another bite of curry.

Matt remains silent as he looks down at the leftover rice in his bowl. The curry has long since run out.

Professor Yamamoto picks up the last kernel of rice on the tip of his spoon. “Three years ago, I got funding for my research from an American corporation. That’s when I stopped publishing on more accepted topics and began focusing full-time on Japanese mythology.” He still has a large area of golden curry left over.

As they push their bowls away, they look at each other, and then down at their bowls.

Professor Yamamoto is the first to laugh. “You finish your curry before the rice. I do just the opposite. Perhaps this reveals a difference in our personalities. Ying and yang”

“For me, the rice is just filling.” Matt taps the bowl with his spoon. “The curry is the main attraction.”

“And for me, the rice is the source of sustenance. The curry is only a flavoring.” Professor Yamamoto stands. “I must say, you did very well answering the questions in class today.” A warm smile spreads across the professor’s face as they take their trays to a little conveyor belt that disappears through a hole. “But you were wrong about one thing.”

“What?” Matt says.

“The Yasakani no Magatama jewel.” Professor Yamamoto leads them out through the front door of the cafeteria. “The Emperor and the Shinto priests are not the only ones who have seen it.”

“What do you mean?”

“I have seen it myself.”

R
yzaard paces in front of his desk with the slate in his hand. From time to time, he stops, looks down into its holographic bluescreen, reads from the report and then stares up, shaking his head. Behind him, the neon Manhattan skyline blazes against the darkness of the night.

“Too fast,” he says. “It’s happening too fast.”

“What are you talking about?” Alexa sits on the red sofa and raises a lighter to a long, thin cigarette.

“The dreams.” Ryzaard stops midstride. “He’s having the dreams. And he’s writing them down. It should have taken much longer to get to this point. It took months for me. Only days for him. He’s moving too fast.” Ryzaard holds the slate in both hands behind his back and begins pacing again. “I fear I may have triggered them.”

“What do you mean?”

“The Stones are a bridge to multiple realities for the mind of a Holder. Some of those realities are like a dream state. I engaged in a little deep meditation to see if I could find him.” Ryzaard exhales through his nose. “It might have pulled him into a dream.”

“Did you find him?”

Ryzaard’s eyes drift out the window. “Yes.” He turns to face Alexa. “I found him, and I almost had him until he got away. It was foolish of me to try. It probably made his dreams more vivid and focused his mind more on the Stone. I’m an idiot for trying.”

“But he can’t know much about it. He’s only had it a few days.” Alexa lays her head back on the red sofa and exhales a plume of pink smoke. It rises to the ceiling and breaks into fragments. “Besides, we have a bead on his girlfriend. He tells her everything. We can monitor her jax, watch their every move.”

“Yes, the marvels of modern technology.” Ryzaard casts a glance down at the slate. “Tells you everything except what matters.”

Alexa takes short puffs on the cigarette and lets the smoke roll out between her lips. “What do you mean?”

Turning, Ryzaard casts a glance at her. “He’s not telling the girl everything. We don’t know what he’s thinking, how much he really knows. Who else he may have seen in his dreams. We can’t see inside his
mind
.” His arm draws a long arc down and slams the slate into the hardwood floor where it shatters into plastic splinters. “He’s hiding things from her, and us.”

“Why so worried?”

“The longer we wait, the more he will learn.” Ryzaard sinks down in his chair and swivels so his back is to Alexa. “The more he’ll learn about
them
,” he mutters to himself.

“I think you overestimate him.” Alexa taps the cigarette. A stream of gray ash drifts to the floor. “He’s just a kid who wants to get away from his father. I think he’s more afraid of the Stone than interested in it. He tried to throw it away.”

“True. But something bothers me. Why can’t we trace him or his father. What are they hiding from?”

“Kalani’s working on that. Give him more time. He’ll figure it out.”

“Perhaps. In the meantime, what do we know about his girlfriend?” Ryzaard stands up and walks across the room to the couch. He drops down next to Alexa.

“Jessica Gibbons. Works in her father’s company during the summer. She just finished her junior year at the University of Colorado, studying for a degree in finance with a minor in photography. The oldest of six children. They have a condo in Maui and vacation there every August. Plays the violin and the ukulele.” Alexa blows a line of pink smoke in Ryzaard’s direction.

“Does she have a secure datasite?”

“It took Kalani only two passes with the decryption protocol to find it and get in.”

“Anything interesting?”

“Not exactly interesting. But strange. There’s pages and pages about how she dreams of having her own family someday. Like her parents, she wants six kids. You’d think such a privileged girl would have more ambition.” Alexa taps out more ashes onto the floor. “And of course she gushes about her love for this mysterious, accident-prone boy, if only she can persuade him.”

“Persuade him to do what?” Ryzaard says.

“Believe in God. According to her, God has a plan for everyone. Very quaint, but apparently he isn’t buying it.” Alexa rolls her eyes.

“Anything else?”

“Let’s see. Yes, there was another item of interest.” Alexa puts out her cigarette and pops a mint in her mouth. “She’s tried for two summers in a row to get an internship with Redrock Heavy Industries, one of our competitors. They have offices here in Manhattan, and she’d love to come here. It hasn’t worked out. Apparently, the recession’s gotten in the way. That’s why she still works for her dad.”

Ryzaard looks at Alexa and smiles. “Excellent idea.” He picks up his jax and walks over to the window.

“What idea?” Alexa says.

“Hello, Van Pelt? I understand you have an opening for a summer intern in your office.” Ryzaard pulls the Stone out of his pocket with his free hand and holds it in front of his eye. “You don’t? Well, you do now. Alexa will give you all the details.”