Chapter Four



Kazuki settled down in the chair, and folded his hands in his lap, looking up at Juubei and Toshiki. They both stood near the door, each carefully avoiding each other's personal territory, not risking a step into the other's private space. The investigations had taken most of the day, yet Kazuki was the only one who sat down; the other two remained on their feet, watching him, watching each other.

"Well," he said briskly. "What have we discovered?"

Juubei spoke first. "The door wasn't forced, Kazuki-sama. Either the lock was picked --"

"And there weren't any obvious scratches on it, so if it was picked, then it was done by an expert," Toshiki added with what seemed like just a touch of smugness.

"-- or it was opened normally," Juubei went on patiently. "And since everyone round here keeps their doors locked as a matter of course, this suggests that Gen opened it willingly."

"Which argues that either he did not know there was a threat, or he did not expect it from this particular person." Kazuki nodded thoughtfully. "Please go on."

Juubei gestured across the room to the bookcase which stood ajar, showing a slice of the bloodstained map room beyond. "Gen kept his work secret, Kazuki-sama; and yet he was found in that room, and the murder clearly took place there. This suggests that he trusted his guest enough to invite him in that far."

"The killer could have pursued him," Toshiki suggested.

Juubei shook his head. "There were no signs of a chase, and besides, Kazuki-sama has said that room takes a few moments for the door to open. He would not have run in there if he was being pursued, surely. He would have made for the door, or called for help."

Kazuki found himself agreeing with that. "And he died within reach of his computer, but not in the attitude of a man who had been running. It came as a surprise."

"Unfortunately, the computer is . . ." Toshiki spread his hands. "We've been told that even Makubex cannot get any data from it. All the files have been wiped, the system is corrupt, the email cache is empty -- even the browsers have no cookies in them."

"Very thorough." Kazuki frowned. "I wonder why he, whoever it was, didn't just destroy it."

"It's very hard to destroy a computer physically, short of fire or smashing it to pieces," Juubei put in, his voice suddenly more assured. Of course, Kazuki thought, the time under Makubex. "In some ways it'd be safer to use a worm on it. A virus of some sort. Though to create a virus that would surpass anything Makubex could do . . ."

"That's a clue in itself," Kazuki murmured.

Juubei frowned. "Is it not a little obvious, in that case?"

"Mmm. I'm not sure." Kazuki flexed his fingers against each other. "How did you two get on with the witnesses?"

Toshiki walked across to the table by which Kazuki was sitting, and tapped a stack of papers. "These are their accounts of what they saw. Nobody saw anyone actually enter or leave here. We do have three definite witnesses of "the man in the white coat" approaching the apartment; the first is in the second south block just after midnight, the second in the southwest block, third floor, corridor area, somewhere between midnight and one a.m., and the third was quite close to this apartment, at approximately one-thirty a.m. Two witnesses of his departure, which seems to have been roughly along the same axis; one at two a.m., who saw him carrying a young woman matching Ren's description, and another at four a.m. near the lower south block exit, by the cloth market. She was the one who mentioned that Ren was wearing some sort of jewellery."

Kazuki sighed. "There is something which I need to explain to you both, before we go any further."

Both of them looked curious -- Toshiki more obviously so, Juubei apparently still calm and placid as ever, but with the edge of keenness visible to those who knew him well.

"Ren was virtual." It was amazing how easy it was to speak the words, but still how hard it was to believe them. "She is like Makubex, like many others within these walls. She is a virtual entity. What was thought to be jewellery must have actually been some form of technology which allowed her to be taken outside."

Juubei's body tensed, then relaxed again. Yes, Kazuki thought. He would understand the full implications.

Toshiki blinked, then said, "Virtual? You mean, that is, computer generated? But how?"

Kazuki shrugged. "Something to do with Babylon City."

"Then is all of this," Toshiki waved towards the door of Gen's map room, "to do with Babylon City too?"

Kazuki frowned. Memories of his one visit to the Beltline, that place which had daunted even the Prince of Battle Terror, shadowed the back of his mind for a moment. And what about the realms above it, the dwelling place of such individuals as Kagami Kyoji? What indeed? "I . . ." He hesitated. "The fact that Ren was taken away from here suggests that it isn't them instigating it. But Gen himself had something to do with the place. I don't know."

The phone rang.

All three of them looked towards it.

It rang a second time.

Toshiki was the first to move, but Kazuki was the first to reach it, snatching the receiver up with a smooth elegance which belied his haste. "Hello?" he asked, lowering his voice to as close a register to Gen's as he could manage. Toshiki and Juubei both halted themselves mid-pace, nearly colliding.

Makubex's voice said, "Hello? Kazuki-san, is that you?"

"Ah." Kazuki coughed, embarassed, and let his voice rise to its normal register. "Yes, it is me. Good afternoon, Makubex," he added for the benefit of the other two in the room. "Can I be of any assistance?"

"I think it's more that I can be of some assistance to you now," Makubex replied. The boy's light tones were as calm and uninflected as usual. "I've been plotting the surveillance cameras, trying to work out what paths the intruder could have followed to have remained unnoticed while they were malfunctioning. Does Juubei still have the palm pilot I gave him?"

Kazuki looked at Juubei. "Palm pilot?" he inquired.

Juubei fished in one of the large pockets of his loose shirt, brought out a small palm pilot, and nodded.

"Yes," Kazuki replied. "He's got it."

"Excellent. Please have him plug it into the phone line in five minutes precisely, and I'll download the data. There are a couple of vectors of possibility. There's something else, as well."

"Please go on," Kazuki said.

There was a pause at the other end of the phone. Had it been someone else, Kazuki might have construed it as guilt. "Ah -- that is . . ." Makubex hesitated. "I did receive occasional fragments of information from Gen's online work."

You spied on him, Kazuki thought, then suppressed the feeling of disgust. Gen had been the only real father Makubex had ever known, the home fire he'd returned to, the parent who he'd only been reunited with so recently. Some things were harder to control than others, however logical the thoughts or great the intelligence. "Did you pick up anything interesting lately?" he asked, keeping his voice neutral.

"There were some fragments of a recent message which didn't correlate to anything else," Makubex said bluntly. "It begins, "While you have chosen not to interfere with us, we shall not threaten you . . ." Most of the middle's lost. It ends with, "The Marassa have been activated and the end of the Project nears.""

Kazuki sighed softly. "That's very vague."

"Well, yes. I can see that much." For a moment, Makubex's voice betrayed frustration. "For what it's worth, I thought I'd let you know, in case. Anyhow, I'll be transmitting the map and camera data in a moment. Thank you, Kazuki-san."

"Think nothing of it," Kazuki said. "Gen was my friend as well, Makubex. And Ren should have been one of my people. I should have been there."

"I know," Makubex whispered. "Yes. I know what you mean."

The phone went dead.

Kazuki carefully settled the phone down again. "Juubei, please plug your palm pilot in to take a download. And -- " He recounted Makubex' message, then added, not very hopefully, "Does that mean anything to either of you?"

Juubei shook his head as he plugged the small device in, but Toshiki frowned. "Marassa?" he repeated. "Are you sure?"

"That was what Makubex said. Although we cannot be sure of the pronounciation, if he only read it on an email. Why, does it mean something to you?"

"Possibly." Toshiki's frown deepened. "If it was the Marassa . . ." He pronounced it in an European way, stressing the second syllable. "That's a term from voodoo, or voodoun, or whatever you call it --"

Juubei looked up from his palm pilot. "Surely you do not mean all that business with zombies and rag dolls and pins?"

"Well, among other things." Toshiki looked vaguely embarrassed. "It was something which he -- Lucifer -- was interested in. While it wasn't his main course of action, I think he did use some material from it while working on the cards."

"So what is the Marassa, Uryuu?" Kazuki tried to give it the same pronounciation that Toshiki had used. "Is it some sort of spell?"

In the background, the palm pilot beeped and turned itself off.

"Not precisely," Toshiki answered. "If I remember properly, and I may be wrong, Kazuki-sama, it's actually one of the voodoo divinities. A pair of twins. A sort of, um, symbol of symbiotic opposition, both male and female, both divine and mortal -- I don't remember them as being actively malign, just, well, as existing."

Kazuki filed Toshiki's suddenly formal mode of address for later consideration. Does he really feel it that necessary to remind me that he is my man again, and that Lucifer is gone for good? Perhaps . . . and if so, how should I try to convince him that I believe him? "Mm. So maybe this is a code term for a pair of agents. We'll have to be careful. Thank you, Uryuu."

Toshiki nodded, a quick smile passing over his face. "Glad it helped."

Juubei coughed, and held out the palm pilot for inspection. "Kazuki-sama, Makubex has plotted the cameras that went dead last night. Allowing for a certain amount of natural wastage --"

"Natural wastage?" Toshiki interrupted.

"Cameras that people would have broken anyhow," Juubei translated. "In any case, while there is a clear route of passage from Gen's door to the exit which we have already marked, he has also tried to show any other paths which would have been open to someone wanting to leave this area and avoid all cameras en route."

"And are there any?" Kazuki queried.

"Actually, there is one possibility." Juubei tapped the screen of the palm pilot with the end of one of his needles. "If you were to leave here, and take this corridor, and then . . ."

---

Toshiki followed Juubei and Kazuki down the alley between buildings, conscious of the quick glances from higher balconies, the flicks of curtains across windows, as though shielding themselves from those who passed could make the inhabitants somehow safe from their world of quick life and quicker death. This wasn't a safe place in any case; it was close to the Beltline, which was one of the reasons why there were fewer cameras here. However fast Makubex had workers replace them, intrusions from the Beltline or casual vandalism destroyed them.

There had been no report of progress from the GetBackers. Perhaps this meant they were hot on the trail. He hoped so.

The sunset light edged the buildings with blood, and the swirling clouds in the sky above marked heaven with the pattern of a seal in red and gold and grey, locked and barred against the people below. Sealed doors, sealed windows, no answers, no hope . . . with an effort he pulled himself back from the sudden temptation to despair, as cold air brushed past him and ran down the alley to rattle garbage and whisper against closed shutters.

Had it always been this bad here, or had he just never noticed?

There was a trickle of amused laughter from above them, high and boyish. He slipped into an easy, loose-limbed posture of readiness as he looked up, vaguely conscious of Juubei moving to do the same thing, getting himself between Kazuki and danger. I'll give Juubei this much, he thought. He'd never hesitate to step between Kazuki and an oncoming blade. Never.

Above, perched on a protruding chunk of masonry at the level of the third story or so, sat Kanou Jouya. The boy laughed again, with that slightly mocking, slightly uncertain touch of amusement that he'd always been so prone to in the past.

"Were you looking for me, Kanou-kun?" Kazuki inquired politely.

It's been a while. Toshiki had never been close to the boy -- he'd kept his eyes on Kazuki, and his hands in Kazuki's service, and Kanou had been interested in Masaki first and Volts second, and they'd not really come into any sort of contact other than the most general. For him to crop up here and now, however, was -- suspicious. Yes, suspicious was an extremely good word for it.

"Isn't it more what you're looking for, Kazuki-san?" Kanou asked in turn. Toshiki felt his hackles rising at the courtesy of the question, and at the utter lack of genuine respect which he could feel behind it. "One doesn't normally see you here. Not up quite so close to the Beltline. Even with your lieutenants to support you." There was obscenity meant through the words, mild as they were.

"Kanou-kun!" There was sudden iron in Kazuki's voice, sharp and dark. "I find that I dislike your attitude, and I have certain questions to ask you."

Kanou smirked. With a flick of a hand he drew one of the large fans which hung at his left side, and brought it round with a blast of wind, in time to slap down the needles which were flying through the air towards him at Kazuki's words, spraying them into an arc against the wall. "And I -- must decline. Till later, Kazuki-san." He sprang to his feet, and began running up the balconies which scarred the side of the building like acid-ruined lace, jumping from one to another, his fans flirting around him like a mosquito's wings.

Toshiki was already moving, a fraction behind Juubei's needles. If Kanou wanted to go up and over, at this point, then there were only two possible paths that he could take down again from there. Either Kazuki or Juubei could cover this one, and the other could take care of the first path down, and he'd be waiting by the third. He rather hoped that Kanou would try to get past him. Not only was he quite certain that he could take the arrogant brat, but it would be a pleasure to explain before he dragged him back to Kazuki that further language of that sort would -- not -- be -- tolerated.

He took the first turning lightly, spinning and jumping to reach the top of a wall and run along it, then catching the edge of a railing and using it as pivot to take him round and up to the next level. Still nobody out on the street, nobody looking through their windows; silence was lying thickly upon the place, broken only by the sound of running footsteps from two other points, which he mentally mapped and coordinated himself against. So he's taking the first path, which probably means he'll run into Juubei or Kazuki, damn it. But he didn't slow. He could be mistaken.

The evening air sparkled in the space of roof to his left, clearer by far than the bloody sunset light, and --

-- danger diamonds Kazuki said Juubei said the man from Babylon City --

-- something which Toshiki did not consciously process or even fully understand sent him rolling to the right, flowing along the balcony in a smooth flex of his body, and brought him up with his hands crossed in front of his body and chi blasting out at that conveniently empty space of roof.

The air shifted and shattered. Three men stood there; no, the same man, but three times over, each time with the same spotlessly white suit, the same glinting earring swinging in the evening wind, the same bland amused smile. "Hell Knight Toshiki Uryuu," all three of them said. "It would seem your reputation is deserved."

This must be Kagami Kyoji. Possibly Makubex's servant, possibly not; possibly Babylon City's spy, possibly not. He'd seen him briefly towards the end of the Kiryuudo affair, and hadn't wanted to get any closer. Kazuki had mentioned something about mirror images, and something about diamond dust . . . He raised his hands to in front of his face, summoning his chi again. "I don't think I have any business with you, Kagami-san," he said politely.

"Ah. But you have. I, Kagami Kyoji, am your opponent today, Hell Knight Toshiki Uryuu." The other man's voice was a light tenor, flowing and gently modulated, as well-bred and persuasive as any expert negotiator.

In the distance, Toshiki could hear the sounds of battle.

That meant he was on his own.

This was a trap.

There wasn't any more need for posturing or questions. Kanou had been the lure, and this trap had been set for one of them -- he couldn't be sure which of them, yet, but it wasn't really important. Once he'd taken Kagami down, they could question him together with Kanou, and find out of this was related to Gen's death, or just unfortunate in its timing. The most important thing was to stop himself breathing in any of that damned diamond dust stuff. He slammed his hands together and released a burst of chi directly in front of his face, in hopes that it would clear the air, then snatched the sash from his waist and wound it over his mouth and nose, eyes on Kagami.

All three of the Kagami-images clapped their hands approvingly. (He couldn't assume that any of them were real. The real Kagami might be anywhere. He'd heard that much about the man.) "Very good," the middle one said. "You are well-informed."

"If not well enough," said another voice behind him, and glass sliced a line across his back. "Diamond Dust . . ."

Toshiki dived for the street, turning and curving in mid-air, landing at a roll and a run, hands raised in a defensive position. Light glared above him as he caught his breath, and the air in the street seemed to fluctuate as though it were molten glass. A dozen images of Kagami now stood looking down at him, pale against the bloody twilight sky.

He could feel the slow hot crawl of blood down his back.

The multiple versions of Kagami moved towards him like the reflections in a kaleidoscope, circling round then closing in, brightness glinting between their fingers in razor-sharp shards of glass. They were following a pattern, and that gave him hope. It was just one more rhythm to analyse, one more dance to unwind -- he was good at that. He jumped for the top of a ledge, for space, ignoring the thin slicing cuts that ripped at his black top and drew blood from his torso and arms, and he could see the centre of the dance, the point which all the other reflections moved around.

There. "Murasame School Palm Technique -- Battlefield Taiko!" he yelled, the force thrumming through his body in hard pulses, and brought his chi slamming out at that centre, focusing it on the Kagami who stood there with his eyes widening in sudden surprise.

Glass exploded, and the street was empty.

The strength of the blow that hit him from behind threw him to his knees, left his head swimming. Toshiki gasped for air, trying to bring himself up and round to counter the next blow that he knew would be coming, but it took him squarely in the stomach and threw him arcing backwards to land in a mass of rubble and glass, to feel each separate shard prick his flesh. He was struggling to his feet again, but now Kagami was on him and forcing him down, a knee planted in his stomach, one pale hand closing over his throat while the other grasped his wrists and held them pinned over his head. The scarf around his face had come loose and lay in folds across his neck, leaving him with nothing between him and Kagami above, edged in red-stained light as the sun sank, the light in the air, the sparkles so bright that they burned his eyes and made him close them as he sank into darkness . . .

Kagami's voice. "We know you, Hell Knight. I've seen what you do, and how you do it."

. . . Kazuki, he had to warn Kazuki . . .

"But I enjoyed the dance."

. . . Kagami's hands were strong and the light was going away . . .

"Hush and listen to the drumbeats of your pulse, Hell Knight Uryuu Toshiki."

The frantic beating of his heart took him down into darkness.

---

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