Ningyo

Chapter One: Tower One

My two man plane bucks and sputters with the weight of the bomb as we approach the tower. The peach-yellow fog is a perfect cover for this particular job. I can smell the Sachi coming up from the Under-city, the Twelve Meeks.

“This tower up ‘head,” says Hinote. I look behind me for only a moment to see he is flailing his blade-hand attachment conversationally, while his Sachi-hand points up to the black tower that is quickly becoming more visible through the fog. “This is it. What’s killin’ us.”

“I know,” I say, turning my full attention back to the tower, though my nostrils are filled with smog from the engine. These old oil powered models … I was spoiled in ERITO, working for Andalaf. Sachiplanes are much more efficient.

“Oh. You know,” Hinote calls up. “Sorry. I was jus’ fillin’ you in.”

“You knew I was in ERITO. That’s why you hired me. And ‘cause I can fly this piece of trash you scavenged.”

“It’s the best we got. And why you complainin’? After this over, you jus’ move on to the next job, right? You don’t give no fucks about the Meeks.”

“That’s right,” I say. “You ready?”

“You use a Sachichute before?” Hinote says.

“Yes.”

The giant black tower looms over us now, three-hundred feet high, a solid black rectangle. My vision blanks for a moment and the plane swerves.

“Yo! What the fuck?” Hinote yells from the backseat. The plane sputters.

“Sorry,” I say.

“Yeah, you better not be tryin’ some slick shit, man. Don’t forget who’s behind you.”

“As if I could.”

“What was that?”

“Nothing. I thought we were heading to the wrong part of the tower. The fog, y’know. Back on track now.”

“Aight. Daiki, Kaito and Suzume should be …”—I turn my head to see where he’s pointing—“there! We jump there! Ready?”

“Yes,” I say, checking to make sure the plane is headed for the exact center of the tower.

“Three,” Hinote says. I tighten the straps on my Sachicute. “Two.” Another look at the trajectory of the plane. “ONE!”

We both unbuckle at the same time, jumping out of the sputtering plane, diving down toward the putrid smelling city of Man’naka as the old oil-fueled plane crashes into the drill tower. The explosion is deafening, and shrapnel blows past my head, making me wonder if Hinote truly knew which spot we should jump from, or if he was just winging it.

I pull out my Sachiblade, using its wide surface as a kind of steering tool through the wind to guide me away from the explosion which I know will continue to grow as the Sachi covering the drill is ignited. After I’ve made it a decent distance away, as far I’ll get anyway, I pull my chute which jerks me back up into the air, the harness attached to the chute glowing a faint yellow with the Sachi inside of it, powering the mechanism holding me in.

I see no Sachibikes on the ground ready to pick us up. There should be three of them, according to Hinote, though I’m beginning to question how well put together this guy is. I think of his missing hands and have a private, healthy chuckle.

Instead of our expected three getaway drivers, ten Andalaf infantrymen meet us.

“Get ready, motherfucker!” Hinote calls over to me from where he is gliding toward the concrete, changing his hand attachment for a gun, then returning the fire from the infantry. I move my Sachiblade beneath my feet, pressing in hard on one of the buttons in the hilt to activate the yellow Sachi within, which glows in its many veins running throughout the blade’s surface, small extension blades coming out of the edges to make it wider and longer. I put it under my feet and ride it through the wind, the bullets from the guards below deflected by the flat of the blade.

When I’m at a safe distance from the ground, I press into the harness and release the chute. My black Sachiboots and suit will absorb most of the impact from here. I roll as I hit the ground and see that Hinote is surrounded. I run for him, my ERITO issued suit feeling my body and adjusting to its increased adrenaline and motion, its many veins glowing yellow with the Sachi inside.

The guards’ eyes open wide in recognition of the ERITO soldier running at them. Not just any ERITO soldier either—second only to the legendary Morfran. I wonder if they recognize me. No matter—I ready my blade, then crush an uninvested Sachi gem in a fist, put my face into it, and take a big, long snort of the powder. The immediate quiet calm and intense energy of a Sachi high fills me.

“Fuck,” I say to myself, shaking my head as the drip hits the back of my throat. I tap the ice invested Sachi gem slotted into one of two slots on the flat of my blade, and the first two guards immediately are assailed by tendrils of jagged ice tearing through their flesh. One guard behind these two fumbles with a pouch. Won’t work. Not fast enough. Sorry.

I jump up and slice the man through the top of his head and take his bag of powder for later.

A large booming sounds overhead. The building is collapsing, story by story. We have to get out of here.

Hinote has taken out several guards himself, maybe five of the total twenty, their dead bodies bleeding on the city street. Another appears behind Hinote, about to stab him through with a Sachiblade. I ice the man, his face white as the freezing crystals infiltrating his innards.

“I see it’s not your first time,” I say, nodding to the five on the ground.

He looks with wide eyes at the fourteen I have layed out in a row behind me, then to the man I just iced.

“Where the fuck are they?” he says, shaking his head.

A familiar buzzing sounds in the tunnel just up ahead. Sachibikes.

More infantrymen, and some of the employees, come from the base of the tower, some running away in fear, others still determined to capture us. The buzzing of the bikes gets closer, then I see the three, all wearing helmets; one is very fat, his rolls spilling far over the sides of the bike, while another is thin, but muscular, and the other is a slim, lean woman.

“NIN!” Daiki calls to me. My Sachisuit prepares itself for the jump onto the bike. As he passes me, I crouch and jump, landing right behind Daiki, his fat a nice cushion to my landing.

Kaito, the fit man behind us, fires at the guards pursuing us from the tower, though there are not many; most are running for their lives.

“Can’t save everyone,” Daiki says as he turns his head to look behind him.

“Watch the road,” I say. I wonder if I would have taken this job if the drills were placed closer to residential districts. I wonder at it, then let it go. It is pointless, but I probably would have either way. I need the money, and whatever I do, someone dies. Andalaf guards? Or the people of the Meeks? I need to eat.

“Those sons o' bitches don’t know whats comin’. Only eleven more to go, then all this Sachi death can stop. Sun-Seekers will stop at nothin’ to—”

“Might not be the best time to yell the name of your organization to the streets of the Upper-Plateau, Hinote,” Daiki calls back.

Hinote and Suzume are close behind us, Hinote changing out his Sachisword arm for a hand replacement. It’s all Sachi, everything is Sachi, but I wonder how the man accounts for the discrepancy in his morals, using the same stuff he’s fighting to destroy.

“I don’ think you understand—Suzume, get closer to his fatass, thank you—I don’ think you understand, Daiki,” Hinote says. “Soon, they’ll be sayin’ that name in the streets of Man’naka, Upper-Plateau and Under-city. Everyone of the Goddamn Twelve Meeks gonna be callin’ themselves Sun-Seekers, proud as a motherfuck.”