🚀 go-pugleaf

             < continued from preceding post >

   Mary shivered in the morning area, as she sat by the
entrance to the Jusanbashi building, half-mesmerized by the
busy synchronized flow of Tokyo traffic.  She could not help
comparing it to her home city; Tokyo seemed so mechanical,
so clean, ... so right.
   It was not at all like the Reno she had seen recently.
She wondered how a civilized society could tolerate such
degradation; yet it apparently had.  She had been told that
this was how things were all along.  In fact, Daddy and his
associates had literally tried to give her a crash course in
Reality.  To her, all the strife, poverty, pollution, and
war seemed totally unreal.
   Images flowed into her mind -- images she had continually
be instructed to suppress.  She envisioned sparkling-clean
streets running among brightly painted high-rise apartments.
She recalled the exhilaration of flying in Ichii's Sirocco
across the barren countryside.  She recalled in vivid detail
exciting battles from barely weeks ago.
   Yet she had been told in no uncertain terms that it was
all a fiction, the wild imaginations of a drunken Author.
Sixteen years of her life were taken away from her, with
nothing to replace them.  Even her own Daddy had nothing to
fill in the immense void of her past.

   A car screeched to a halt in front of Mary, tearing into
her thoughts.  She hardly moved until the driver got out,
carrying a tray full of food.  He seemed a little awkward,
the restaurant didn't usually deliver.  But when Mary asked
for directions over the phone, and they found out she was
calling from Jusanbashi, they bent over backwards for such
an opportunity to serve a new member of Japan's primo
superguy team.
   Famished, Mary nearly bowled the poor waiter over.  She
dug through her purse, and withdrew a five dollar bill.  "So
sorry, but I have no yen," she explained in his language.
"Will American money do?"
   The driver's eyes widened with glee.  "Hai!  Hai!  Thank
you very much, superguy-chan, er, -san!"
   "Your very welcome, I think," Mary replied.  She was
still bewildered on the use of such provincial currency,
instead of a planet-wide credit system.
   "Sayonara!  Oh, and pardon me, but you speak excellent
Japanese!"
   "Uh, ... thanks," Mary murmured, wondering what the big
deal was.  "Sayonara!"

   Mary felt rather odd toting her breakfast into what was
serving as the new team's rec room.  Although the building
staff had cleared away most of the signs of the night's
revelry, they had left all the non-perishable food behind.
At the headquarters of a leading manufacturer of food
additives, very little food was perishable.  The Godzilla
ice sculpture in the punch bowl had barely begun to melt.
   Glancing hatefully at the vast panoply still there, Mary
tore into her purchased breakfast.  Daddy still hadn't fully
explained why he advised against eating anything the company
served her, and she nearly starved sitting through the
banquet.  She left soon after, fatigued from hunger, which
was just as well.  Seeing all that food all night would have
been unbearable.
   The rest of the heroes were still abed.  Mary wondered
how they so quickly adapted to the jet lag, to stay up like
that.  She thought for a moment; right now it would be after
noon in Nevada, on Friday, or was it Sunday?  The time zones
were bad enough, even without the International Date Line.
In any case, it was 'normal' to be awake at this time, and
she had gone to sleep long before the others, such sleep as
it was.

   The dinner conversation with the woman in the red mask
had greatly disturbed her.  Just as she thought she had
buried her memories and begun to live the life Daddy wanted
her to live, someone had come and dug up the grave.
   Did she ever have the feeling that a garbageman once
ruled the world?  She most certainly did!  It was repeated
in every class room, echoed at every rally, acknowledged in
every church.  Sal was the figurehead of such ideals as
Peace, Cleanliness, and Civic Responsibility.  In fact, a
world without Sal was totally unimaginable, and here she
found herself in one.
   As Mary deposited her disposables into the nearby trash
receptacle, she mentally superimposed the words "In Sal We
Trust."  Mary began to berate herself in betraying that
trust, to believe in the world she saw.
   To avoid more nightmarish internal debate, Mary opted to
turn on the television set.  One fortunate constant seemed
to be the Saturday morning cartoons, a good a way to relax
as any, she thought, until she saw how the images that were
played out before her as fictional reminded herself so much
of home.
   Falling into a couch opposite the television set, Mary
very quietly went mad.

                           *****

   Ichii stood in a daze on the sidewalk before a gigantic
office building.  It wasn't that he had never been in a city
before -- in fact, he had never been out of one.  It's just
a city like this was not where he expected to be, even aside
from the bewildering display of kanji.
   If pressed, Ichii would have had a hard time describing
what he actually did expect Japan to look like.  He had
conflicting images of hidden temples, raked white gravel,
paper screens, and stone lanterns, all of which came from
the games he had played in the arcade.  What he did not
expect to find was a fully Western city.
   Yet the driver of the armored jeep had managed to assure
him that this was the right place, amidst all the shouting
she directed towards the other passenger:  No, saying hello
to themselves would not be a cool idea; they didn't have
time to point out where Handmedown's room was; and would she
let the guy the Hell(tm) out of the jeep -- they had a race
to finish.  As the jeep sped away, Ichii caught a few words
about a cave, before the passenger got cuffed on the side of
the head.

   Ichii sized up the building before him.  Atop the broad
face of plate glass windows, he noticed a penthouse balcony,
many stories above him.  As he glanced, a figure ran to the
railing.  In spite of the fact that the individual would
look like a speck to anyone near him, Ichii recognized the
person instantly.
   "Mary!" he called.
   The figure did a double-take then peered down at him over
the railing, restoring her bowler to her head.  Ichii waved.
"Ichii?"
   "We gotta talk!"
   "Sorry, can't talk now."
   "It's your Dad!  Someone's tried to waste him!"
   But she had already removed the bowler; she would not
hear him now.  For some reason, she put on a baseball cap.
   "Daddy? ... Daddy, we're going away, like right now. ...
Someplace called Kiganai. ... I think there's a train.  ...
Gotta go."
   Ichii saw Mary take off the baseball cap and tuck it
away, then plant the bowler back onto her head.
   "Mary!  Don't go!"
   She was already gone.

   Ichii ran into the Jusanbashi building, through the
lobby, and into the first elevator he found.  After jabbing
the top floor button, he protected his ears from the canned
music that surrounded him.  Fortunately, the elevator was
fast, and he eagerly escaped it onto a floor that rather
obviously was not a penthouse.  Spinning around, he saw that
there were no elevator request buttons to go any higher. at
which point he dashed for the stairwell, This indeed led
upwards, leading to a fire door with no handle on his side.
   Shouting loudly, Ichii began to bang on the door.  After
a very long minute, the door opened slightly as a petite
Japanese woman asked a question.  Ichii simply pulled the
door wide and ran through it.  He stopped only a few steps
later, having found himself in a deserted room.
   He spun again and addressed the bewildered maid.  "Where
did they go?" he shouted, pleadingly.  The maid shook her
head in fear.  "Tell me!" he begged.  Unfortunately, she
understood his clothing better than his inflection and made
for the stairs.  He caught up to her one landing down, and
grabbed her arm.  "Did they go to Kiganai?"  The maid gulped
and nodded.  "How?"
   "So solly.  Tlansmat-san take them," she quavered.
   "Where is the train station?"
   With the confidence that comes from the realization that
one is no longer about to be beaten, the maid told him.

   'Small' is not one of the words one could use to describe
Shinjuku station.  Once Ichii got there (riding most of the
way in a taxi without paying), he was completely at a loss,
considering that he never before had any use for mass
transit.
   Fortunately, one of the major currents in the sea of
humanity led to the ticket machines, where a large wall map
indicated the stops a particular train made.  A stomach-
turningly loudly dressed tourist was studying the map,
counting the stops with a finger.  Ichii's first inclination
was to mug the guy, until he recognized the profile.
   "Mister Jackson!  Mister Jackson!"
   The tourist turned.  "You!  What are you doing here?"
   "I don't know what you're into, Mister Jackson, but --"
   "How did you get here?"
   "-- I want to know now!"
   The two glared at each other, silently demanding an
answer to their questions.  Since they had essentially
ignored what the other was saying, the questions remained
unanswered.
   "Who sent you?"
   "Now, look, Mister!  Someone's ordered a hit on you!"

   This time one message got through, by virtue of its
relative length.  Richard looked at Ichii, thoughtfully.
"Why are you telling me this?"
   "I don't want Mary to get hurt," Ichii replied simply.
   "Neither do I."
   "Then let me help you."
   "Help me do what?"
   "Find your daughter."
   "She's not my daughter."
   "Whatever.  I just don't want her mixed in all this ...
all this ..."
   "All this what?" Richard asked, guardedly.
   Ichii paused, looked cautiously about, then whispered.
"The stuff you do.  That's what this whole trip is about,
isn't it?"
   Richard glared back.  "What would you know about that?"
   "Only what Mary's told me."
   The older man grumbled.  "You really want to help her?"
   "Yeah!"
   "Then tell me how and why you came to Japan."
   Ichii fumbled.  "Well, I'm not really sure,"  A raised
eyebrow compelled him to continue.  "This lady with a gun
forced me into her jeep and drove me here."
   "I see," Richard said, leaving for the platform.
   "It's true!" insisted as he followed.  "It was the
weirdist thing."
   "I bet it was."
   "Ticket, please?" somebody asked, stopping Ichii.  The
youth just looked about with frustration, then called after
Richard.
   "Well, screw you!"
   Everything fell quiet.  Ichii saw and felt hundreds of
eyes boring into him from all directions.  Capitulating, he
asked the gatekeeper.  "Sorry.  I have no ticket.  When does
that train leave?"

   It was a simple plan, really.  Ichii had found a redcap
about his size and talked him into exchanging his uniform
for Ichii's jacket.  They had walked around the corner to
make the trade, where Ichii sucker-punched him in the jaw.
By this point, Ichii should have acquired the uniform (yet
without losing his jacket) so that he'd be able get onto the
platform and hop onto Jackson's train as it left.
   Unfortunately, the plan didn't work as well as it would
have at home.  This kid knew martial arts, and was better at
it than Ichii.  Instead of leaving the guy asleep with a bad
potential headache, Ichii found himself flat on his back
with a foot just above his throat.
   "Um, I'm really sorry, man.  I didn't know.  I shouldn't
have hit you like that.  My fault."
   "Give me your jacket."
   "No way.  I never part with this jacket."
   One foot gently reminding Ichii of his say in the matter,
he added, "I could make fifty yen instead of fighting you."
   "Right.  I'm sorry, it's yours."
   The redcap sat on Ichii's legs, allowing him to sit up
and doff the jacket.  "Why did you hit me?"
   "I wanted to get on the train.  I'm looking for my girl."
   "You, an American, have a girlfriend here in Japan?"
   "Um, she's just visiting.  Here, look."  He reached into
the jacket's inside pocket and withdrew a photo.  It was a
picture of Mary and Ichii taken when they crashed the senior
prom.  Neither was dressed for it, of course; he was in his
usual street clothes, and she had knotted her tee-shirt in a
way that would have driven her old man up the wall.
   The redcap simply stared at the picture.  "Where are you
trying to look for your girlfriend?"
   "Kiganai, I think."
   "If I bought you tickets there, could I keep this?"
   "Uh, sure."
   The redcap reached into his pocket, pulled out a few
notes, and tossed them into Ichii's lap.  He then jumped to
his feet, and ran back to the platform, where he wave the
photograph to all his friends, shouting with insane glee.
"Handmedown da yo!"
   Ichii stared at his new money, wishing he had a chance to
ask how the redcap did that flip.  He then put his jacket
back on and went to stand in line at the ticket booth.

                           *****

   "This way," Shana ordered, shining a huge arc-light into
a side passage.
   Lori's Tornado led the way, stopping about four feet in,
her power suit swivelling as it examined the cavernous room
beyond.  "No, looks like a dead-end to me."
   Mary scrambled in and took a look for herself.  "Look,
over there!"  She pointed excitedly.  "There's an gap about
four feet wide that opens up!"
   "Gap?" Nina shouted in wonder.  "Those really -- oof!"
Nina's suit tumbled to the ground after Shana's Tornado
finished its backhand blow.
   Meanwhile, Lori followed up on Mary's gesture.  After her
visual sensors magnified and enhanced the distant corner,
they indeed revealed the passage Mary described.  "How'd you
see that?"
   "Oh, um, just a little trick I learned."  Mary smiled and
adjusted her bowler as she returned, peering back the way
they came.
   "Looking for someone?" Shana asked suspiciously.
   "Um, I was hoping my boyfriend would be here."
   "You've got a boyfriend on the team already?" Nina cooed.
"Cool!"
   Mary continued to stare back.  "No, he's from back home."
   "Oh.  Why didn't we meet him?"
   "I just suddenly came; I don't know how.  He's worried
about me or something, but we didn't get a chance to talk.
Why don't you just go on ahead?  I'll catch up."
   "Right," Shana agreed, entering the passage.  As her
Tornado passed Lori's she whispered, "Maybe we can lose
her."  Lori nodded and joined her.  "Nina!  We're going!"
   Nina hesitated, looking alternately at the lone teenager
and her fellow Knights.  "Can't we just wait a little?"
   "No!  Get over here!  Now!"
   "You go ahead," Mary encouraged, amiably shooing her
away.
   "But, I'd really like to meet Handmedown's boyfriend."
Nina whined, as she trotted after her teammates.
   "Later," Lori promised.  "Now come on."
   "Don't you get it?" Shana growled when Nina caught up.
"She's a heroine and we're villains!  You can't trust her!"
   "But she's such a nice kid!" Nina objected.
   Shana rolled her eyes.  "She's a heroine who is waiting
for reinforcements.  Now, I don't know about you, but I'm
not about to get arrested.  Let's go, Lori."
   Nina stood and turned as the other Tornado Knights went
on their way.  As she looked back, she saw Mary was waving
her off.  "Go!  Go!"  Nina sighed.  "Hey, guys!  Wait up!"

   Handmedown watched the last power suit approach the
distant gap, then retrieved the baseball cap from under her
blouse.  Just as she removed her bowler, she found herself
suddenly plunged into utter blackness and silence.  She then
put on the baseball cap, as loneliness began to oppress her.
"Daddy?"
   =There you are, finally,= she heard in her head.  =I've
been waiting.=
   "Daddy?  It's really .. dark."  Her voice quavered.
   =Don't you have a flashlight?=
   "No.  They didn't have enough for everyone, so I came
with the Tornado people."
   =Good for you!  Where are you now?=
   "Um, I don't know.  I can't see anything now!  It's so
dark and so quiet!"
   =Just tell me where you are.=
   "I don't know!  And I'm out of bubble gum!  I wanna go
home!"  She began to cry.
   =Mary!  Get a hold of yourself!= She bawled even more.
After a few seconds of that, she slowly heard the voice in
her head again.  =.. please don't cry.  Daddy will buy his
little girl a blueberry milk shake when this is all over,
okay?=
   "Okay," Mary agreed, slightly pacified.  "But I'm all
alone, Daddy!"
   =Easy.  Easy.  What did I tell you to do about that?=
   Mary tried to recollect, and then sat very still and
chanted.  "I am a beacon.  I am a beacon."

                           *****

   Richard Jackson meandered through the cavernous maze,
favoring the larger passages.  He was on his own for this
one; he had realized too late that he would be unable to
track Mary.  The radio signals would be much too weak to
penetrate the rock.
   Richard felt like kicking himself for his oversight.
Indeed, most helicopter pilots weren't too experienced
operating underground, but he wished he at least remembered
that his radio reception always kicked out.  Advising Mary
to activate her internal transponder was a waste of time.
He should have recommended the old-fashioned way.
   Thinking of which, Richard Jackson began to search his
immediate vicinity for fist-sized rocks.  The few he found
he tossed into a small pile.  He then retraced his steps
until he found four more.  These he set next to the pile,
two pointing where he chose to go next, and two pointing
back the way we came.  It was a simple orienteering trick,
but it seemed that nobody who had entered the caverns had
bothered to employ it.
   His crude preparations complete, Richard resumed his
enigma of the day.  What was everyone doing here, wandering
about a cave?  And what did it have to do with Jusanbashi?
Of course, the obvious answer was that they wanted to rescue
an alleged kidnappee, but that didn't explain the choice of
location.  It's not like someone would set up headquarters
in an underground cavern.
   Richard paused and reconsidered.  If the Communists
really wanted to keep a hand in the affair of Jusanbashi,
where else to operate without being exposed?  Indeed, the
Swiss had extensive underground bunkers in the Alps, so it
seemed at least possible to do the same here.

   As if in answer to his silent question, voices began to
echo from the darkness ahead.  With instinctive prudence,
Richard quickly ducked behind a stalagmite and turned off
his flashlight.  Shadows of rock formations began to dance
along the walls as two men approached and finally entered
Jackson's view.
   Although not equipped with full spelunking gear, these
two were much better prepared for the underground.  For one
thing, they had warmer attire, Richard noted as he shivered
in his Hawaiian print.  Also they had think mud boots, and
crash helmets fitted with lanterns, freeing their hands to
discuss the map they were gesticulating at as they walked.
However, their speech was intelligible, some foreign tongue
which was garbled by the room's many echoes.
   The two stopped talking as they entered the room.  As one
folded the map and tucked it under his arm, the other nodded
in reply, with the Vietnamese equivalent for "Very good."
Then, without any apparent concern, they walked on through
the room, right past Richard's hiding place.  As he sucked
in his breath, it seemed to him that they were in familiar
territory.  There base must therefore be nearby.  Richard
resolved to follow, considering his options as he went.
   His mission directive was simple:  observe and report.
This obviously suggested tailing these men on the chance
that they would lead him to something big, but the question
would be how far to follow them.  In such a cavernous maze,
he would have to stay fairly close, which would potentially
lead to immediate discovery.
   The other option was simpler: obtain the map.  Richard
had little doubt that, with the advantage of surprise, he
could overpower both of these men.  The map itself would be
of major importance, not only detailing the reputedly
uncharted caves, but also possibly containing important
clues about the hidden base.  However, such a strike was
certainly premature -- the two men might be missed.  Without
radio communications, they probably kept a regular patrol
schedule.
   Richard chose to bide his time.  Still keeping his own
flashlight dark, he carefully crawled on the cavern floor,
feeling his way as his targets walked confidently, back
along the same broad path through which Richard had entered.
However, they did not go far before stopped and stepped into
van alcove.  One pressed a rock and a panel slid open before
him, light streaming into the cavern.  After both men had
entered the panel closed again, leaving Richard in the pitch
black.

   Richard waited a moment before proceeding, making sure
that everything was silent.  He then switched on his light
and proceeded to inspect the alcove.  By all appearances, it
was a dead end, but he now knew otherwise.  Jackson pulled
out his disk camera and started photographing.  In addition
to the alcove, he also took pictures of the cavern in both
directions to establish the spot, further marking it by
placing a large rock along the edge of the floor.
   He then went about inspecting the wall, feeling it with
his hand.  Indeed, a very small crack completely encircled
one of the rocks in the wall, which was nearly invisible in
all the shadows of the cave.  Having identified the entry
mechanism, Richard pressed on the stone, then took one more
picture of the open portal before stepping through.
   The corridor beyond had apparently been hewn out of the
rock.  The walls and the ceiling were reinforced with steel
plates; the floor was still bare rock.  It ran for only a
short distance before connecting with a natural cavern,
which was powerfully lit with electric light.
   Unfortunately, this latter cavern was heavily travelled,
and within seconds, Richard had been seen.  It was already
too late to run, and shooting would only bring additional
unwanted attention.  Forced into an encounter, Richard
Jackson chose the role for which he was already dressed.
   "Sayonara, folks!" he greeted those nearby, estending a
hand.  "Seems I made a wrong turn.  Say!  Whatcha got here?"

                  < continued next post >