A Tale Of The Continuing Time - The Last Dancer Part 49

Sedon shook his head. His lips twitched again. "We have need of his skills."

In a small Buddhist temple outside of Tokyo, they met with Shuji Kurokawa, the Unification Councilor for most of southern j.a.pan; Akira Hasegawa of Mitsubis.h.i.+; and the venerable Ryotaro Matsuda, who had been old fifty years prior, when, with a dozen other old men, he had surrendered j.a.pan to the Unification.

They met in a small, wooden-floored room with thin walls, sat together, the six of them, at a small black table raised only a few centimeters above the ground, and drank tea together in silence.

The servants withdrew when they were done with their tea, and left them alone.

The three who sat facing Sedon were Asians, members of the Mongoloid family of the New Human Race. Like the Negro peoples, they were, Sedon observed, better fit for this world than the European whites whose culture had in large measure achieved dominance in this time. As the blacks were better evolved to survive beneath the harsh sun of the prison world, the Mongoloid peoples had eyes better protected from the sun, and a layer of subcutaneous fat that better protected them from this world's extremes of temperature.

They were certainly more civilized than the whites. In more ways than one, in their concern with protocol and politeness, in their lack of haste, they, of the societies Sedon had encountered since his release from the bubble, most closely resembled the Flame People.

The two men dressed in severe black obi; the woman, Kurokawa, in a gown of some dove gray material. Sedon had difficulty gauging age among any of the folk of this time, but especially so with the Asians; simply to look at he might have thought them any age from 40 to 140-and probably, all three of them, closer to the latter number, for the j.a.panese prized age.

In that Sedon thought they showed the beginning of wisdom.

'Sieur Hasegawa spoke first, in j.a.panese; there was a brief delay while the temple's computer translated into French. "You have brought a new companion to these talks."

Chris Summers spoke in English, said mildly, "My friend Akira; this is David, the son of an old friend. He has joined our cause."

Sitting slightly behind and to Sedon's left, David Castanaveras looked at them through bored and sleepy eyes. He inclined his head slightly at the mention of his name.

The woman, Kurokawa, whose obstinance had stalled Sedons progress for so long, spoke. A moment later; "We have considered your most recent proposition. We think it unwise."

They would, of course; it was hardly in their best interests, though Sedon had gone to great lengths to portray it otherwise. Sedon spoke mildly. "Indeed? You recognize that we have a tiger by the tail? We are only a few days from rising, and once begun, there can be no turning back."

"We do not wish to go forward with you, 'Sieur Sedon." The woman spoke with a directness that was, for her, unusual. "Your chances for success are abysmal, and we cannot believe that you do not know it.

Even with our aid your chances-our chances-are merely poor. You need the aid of the s.p.a.ceFarers'

Collective, at a bare minimum, and you do not have it."

Sedon paused. "I will give this one last attempt, and then I will not speak for the consequences. We share a common enemy in the Unification. Your country has been damaged by the Unification far worse than any other on this planet, worse than Occupied America, for fear of your might should you-"

The woman cut him off. "Three-quarters of the armed s.p.a.cecraft in the Solar System belong to s.p.a.ce Force. The PKF has twelve million men in uniform across the surface of this planet; has nearly three thousand Elite cyborgs. The cyborgs we have created with what we have learned from 'Sieur Summers, though in their own way impressive, are not technologically a match for any but the earliest of the Unification's Elite; and there are only two hundred of them. You have a million PKF in O.A.; we have only thirty thousand in all of j.a.pan. It seems to us that our interests are not served by contesting the Unification, but rather by working from within it."

"Do you not thirst for revenge, for the damage done you, the deaths rained down upon you from the sky?"

The three facing him were silent for a long while. It was at last the eldest of their number, Ryotaro Matsuda, who spoke. He spoke in a whisper of English. "I was born, 'Sieur Obodi, in black rain, as the earth blasted into the sky by American bombs was washed back to the ground; born to devastation so utter that a lesser people would not have recovered from it. My elder sister died of radiation poisoning shortly after I was born; both of my parents died of cancers from the bombs. But we are a great people, and we rebuilt, became preeminent in the world. And then in 2018 the Unification bombed us again, fourteen warheads exploded in airbursts over j.a.panese territory; and I lost two of my three children to the fire, and the third to radiation sickness. And again we rebuilt, and today enjoy prosperity that is the envy of the world. We maintain our own society, we do not flaunt our wealth; we ask for nothing of the gaijin but that they leave us be. We have aided you more than is perhaps wisealready, and what you now ask of us, madman, is that we risk ourselves and our children, once again, for no better reason than that it is convenient foryou."

Gi'Suei'Obodi'Sedon said bluntly, "You have thermonuclear warheads. I need them."

Silence descended.

Akira Hasegawa said cautiously, "You have been misinformed."

"You have twenty-five of them," said Sedon. "I will leave you three for self-protection. I must have the rest."

The woman facing Sedon said simply, "We will not give them to you."

Sedon employed a technique that would not have worked on any of the Flame People, it was so obvious, but which he had found, to his amazement, often worked on the people of this time. As sincerely as he could, he asked, "Is there anything I can do to change your mind?"

It did not work this time; she shook her head, said firmly, "No."

Sedon nodded. "David?"

The boy's voice was calm, disinterested. "Yes?"

"As we discussed."

When Gi'Suei'Obodi'Sedon left to return to Occupied America, the following morning, he took with him two things: a group of forty of the almost-Elite cyborgs, young, immensely polite j.a.panese men, and, stacked neatly in the SB's hold, twenty-two fusion warheads.

He left behind him a group of j.a.panese leaders who would do exactly as David Castanaveras had instructed them.

- 8 -.

Late on the afternoon of June the 30th, 2076, Secretary General Eddore's Chief of Staff, Hand Alexander Moreau, stepped into the SecGen's office. "Sir?"

Eddore looked up from the holofield he was auditing. "Yes, Alex?"

"Councilor Ripper wants to speak to you."

Eddore nodded, felt a flicker of warm antic.i.p.ation. "Have him wait a minute or two, then put him through."

"He'shere." At Eddore's look of incomprehension, Moreau added, "In the waiting room."

A slow smile crossed Charles Eddore's features. "Really? Without an appointment. How charming.

Bring him in."

Moreau turned back to the door; Ripper brushed by him on his way in.

Eddore said calmly, "Dougla.s.s."

"Are you blind?"

Eddore smiled. "I don't think so. Have a seat, Dougla.s.s."

"What are you doing, Charles?"

"What do you mean?"

"I called Commissioner Vance."

"Ah." Eddore needed no more than that; Vance, chafing at the bit, would have been blunt about his displeasure at being held back on the Johnny Rebs; and Ripper, as the Chair of the Oversite Committee, was an appropriate place for Vance to express his displeasure. "And if you hadn't called Vance," Eddore murmured, "doubtless he'd have called you?"

"Probably. He's not a happy man, Charles." Ripper paused. "You've lied to the Council."

"Oh? About?"

"This investigation your office claimed the PKF was undertaking. I called Christine Mirabeau, and asked her to forward the doc.u.ments on the investigation. She told me that they were investigating the Rebs, were about to move forward on it, and promised that the doc.u.ments would be sent over promptly."

Eddore nodded. "Yes, I know. She called and told me of your request. I told her not to send them."

"So for a couple of weeks now I've had difficulty getting hold of her at all. Today when I called Vance-imagine my surprise-I found that Vance claims to know nothing about any ongoing investigation into the Rebs. And he says he would know."

Ripper had not accepted Eddore's offer to sit down; now the Secretary General was just as pleased. He sighed. "Dougla.s.s, I'm sorry it's come to this. For reasons that I do not particularly feel compelled to explain to you, Elite Commander Mirabeau has engaged in certain private research, research Commissioner Vance did not need to know about. And does not."

"You're not going to explain this, are you?"

"No. I'm not."

Dougla.s.s Ripper said simply, "You're f.u.c.king up, Charles."

To Alexander Moreau, hovering nervously by the door, the Secretary General said, "Show Dougla.s.s out, Alex."

Ripper snorted, "I know the way," and brushed by Moreau once again on his way out.

After he was gone, Eddore said aloud, possibly to Hand Moreau, "I do hate bad losers."

Ripper awoke to darkness, alone in bed, in his suite at Capitol City.

He had almost gotten used to sleeping alone again, but it was still his first thought on awakening, to notice that Denice was not with him.

After a moment he realized what had awakened him, the chiming of the phone."Command," he said groggily, sitting up in bed, "no video. Accept."

It was Ichabod, speaking so fast that Ripper could not make out the man's words. "Wait,wait," he snapped. "Slow down."

"Emergency meeting of the Council, Councilor. Starts whenever a quorum shows up."

"What time is it?"

"Two a.m."

"What the h.e.l.l is it?"

There was the briefest of pauses. "Two things, Councilor. The orbital laser cannon have apparently been knocked out-"

"G.o.d d.a.m.n it," yelled Dougla.s.s Ripper, standing up in bed. "G.o.d f.u.c.kingd.a.m.n it! I told them, Itold them-G.o.dd.a.m.n," he yelled again. "Have they heard from the f.u.c.king Rebs yet? Demands,anything?"

Another quick pause. "No. There haven't been any demands. Councilor, there's some real question whether the Rebs or Claw havedone this."

Blackness surrounded him. "Who else? The Collective? They think-"

"Councilor, j.a.pan has declared independence."

Dougla.s.s Ripper stared blindly into the darkness for perhaps five seconds. Finally he spoke with preternatural calm. "I'll be at the Council Chambers in ten minutes."

- 9 -.

They gathered together in the dining lounge, watching the Boards.

NewsBoardhad the first reports out of j.a.pan. Denice watched, with Robert at her side, as Shuji Kurokawa, the Unification Councilor for j.a.pan, declared that, as was the right of any sovereign state, j.a.pan no longer found members.h.i.+p in the Unification conducive to its interests, and that therefore, in deference to the opinion of the world, they were taking this opportunity to explain their grievances against the Unification.

Dvan sat with them, watching. His wrist was nearly mended.

At 10:15 a.m., in the middle of a report detailing how a group of j.a.panese guerillas had taken all but two of the orbital laser cannon, Denice rose and walked over to the garage to bid Jimmy Ramirez good-bye.

A yacht and a pair of SB's were parked in the garage. Jimmy, standing in front of the yacht, squirming into his pressure suit, glanced up as she entered. He greeted her with the words, "I wasn't sure you were going to come see me off."

Chandler had already boarded the small yacht; Denice bit her lip before replying. "I'm sorry."

"You can still come with me."

"I'm going back to Earth, Jimmy. With Robert and Devane. And we're going to try to kill Sedon, and rescue my brother."

Jimmy nodded, sealed the p-suit up to his collar. He said something that only a few weeks ago would have been very difficult for him. "I'm afraid for you, Denice."

"I'm afraid too, Jimmy. But maybe the Belt CityStates are the proper place for you. Trent's out there, somewhere. But there's nothing there for me, not right now."

"Someday, Denice, we're going to return and take the b.a.s.t.a.r.ds down. You know that's true."

She nodded. "But it doesn't change what I have to do today. I won't ask you to come with me; you couldn't even if you wanted to."

Jimmy said slowly, "All right. I'm going to miss you."

"I love you, Jimmy." She took a single step forward, moved into his embrace, put her chin on his shoulder and held on tight until the speaker set in the side of the yacht came alive.

Chandler's voice: "Sorry to interrupt, but time is tight. We've got a s.p.a.ce Force battalion pa.s.sing by right now; radar shows another moving in from Almundsen at L-Four. If we're going to make Halfway without turning into s.p.a.ce Force target practice, we have to be out of here in a little under two minutes."

Jimmy released Denice, took a step back, and without further word turned away from her.

Denice said, "Wait!"

Jimmy turned back; for just a moment an absurd flicker of hope crossed his features, was gone. "What?"

"I need to talk to Chandler." She cycled through with Jimmy, into the yacht, and moved back to the pa.s.senger compartment. Chandler looked up as she entered.

"What is it, dear?"

"Who knows about me? About my brother?"

The old man did not misunderstand her. Displeasure touched the fierce features. "Aside from myself, no one. Not in my organization."

Denice took a deep breath, reached forward, and laid her hand against the side of his head. Brief surprise crossed his features.

My name is Denice Daimara. I'm the student of Robert Dazai Yo. The telepaths are gone from the world, and you think them dead. Except when you are alone, you will never think otherwise. When you are alone, you may remember me, and my brother; but you will not act upon it, and you will neverspeak of it.

Jimmy seated himself, strapping into his acceleration chair. He said quietly, "What are you doing?"