"It is partly a result of the network design, Machiko-san. You must bear in mind that Intrusion Countermeasures utilize system and network resources. If we use the most powerful IC available to us in every node and in such quant.i.ties as to yield us an impregnable fortress, our systems will never be comprised, but we will get no work done because no resources will be available. The Chairman"s mininet is not itself heavily defended or routinely monitored by Network Administration. It is, however, defended by the mainframe responsible for the Senior Executive Information System. A decker of sufficient expertise to slip through this mainframe undetected could, once into the Chairman"s mininet, do practically anything he or she might want. That at least is my guess. To make sure we are not compromised any worse than we already have, I have initiated measures to enhance our total network security posture."
Indeed, even as the two of them converse, more people are coming in, conferring with others and moving to various cubicles. The urgency on their faces is plain. Those pa.s.sing near Machiko walk briskly and keep their eyes averted.
Machiko asks, "Would it be correct to say that the purpose of this phantom host would be to deceive anyone who might be watching as to how the Chairman"s mininet is being utilized?"
Maeda-san frowns, looking very grave. "I can imagine no other purpose, Machiko-san. Certainly, if there had been any legitimate purpose for creating the phantom I would have been informed long before now. This should not have been done without my personal authorization."
"Could it have been done by someone from outside Nagato Corporation?"
"It is certainly within the realm of possibility. It would require expert knowledge and support, but it could be done."
"Could it have been done by one or more of our own people?"
Maeda-san appears to consider this for several long moments. Finally, she says, "I have great confidence in my managers, Machiko-san. They know my people. I believe I would have had some indication before now if someone in my department is responsible for this."
Machiko has little on which to evaluate Maeda-san"s opinion, but that is of no immediate concern.
Duty commands her next move.
35.
The room in Brooklyn is small, enclosed by pastel-shaded panels and adorned with a pair of black-framed paintings. The lacquered floor resembles sandalwood. Honjowara-sama sits cross-legged in a kimono-style robe at a small black table bearing the remains of breakfast. He faces a pair of open panels, which, like double doors thrown open, provide a view of the small but spectacular garden. Machiko is well aware that this room, the Summer Garden room, is Honjowara-sama"s favorite part of the Yoshida-kai headquarters building. He has breakfasted here many times. It is not unexpected to find him here.
What is unexpected, in Machiko"s experience, is that she would find Kuroda-sensei seated across the table from Honjowara-sama. But this of course is becoming the surprise that no longer surprises. She has encountered sensei more frequently in the last four days than in the four weeks immediately preceding. She has seen more of him now than in the last several months.
"Machiko."
Honjowara-sama invites her with a gesture to sit beside Kuroda-sensei. She bows and moves to the table and goes to one knee. She gives the report that duty demands, telling all that Gordon Ito has told her, and what she has learned from Maeda Komachi. "Thus, we are under attack from both within and without. White Octagon may be only a p.a.w.n, their activities a tactic of deceit, in the campaign to seize Nagato debts. It therefore seems all the more crucial that we find Gamma, determine his true objectives, and ascertain whether he is his own master."
Honjowara-sama pays close attention until her last word is spoken, then looks to the open door-panels providing a view of the garden. He gives no clue as to what he is thinking, and his silence soon becomes oppressive, weighing heavily on Machiko"s spirit. Perhaps Honjowara-sama has some secret information that proves she is wrong, all wrong, that she is a fool, her efforts vain. The idea brings her a sickening sense of dismay.
A few birds whistle from the garden, the first birds Machiko can recall having heard since before last winter. How lucky are the birds-free of the troubles of metahumanity!
"This riddle will never be solved," says Kuroda-sensei, "unless the flower is laid bare."
Machiko puzzles over this. She supposes that sensei refers to Gamma, or possible traitors, or more generally to the repugnant "flower" of racism, anti-meta hatred, that rises like so many poisonous weeds from many innocuous-looking gardens. Perhaps he wishes to interrogate the members of White Octagon personally, to lay bare their deepest secrets. Yet, Machiko is forced to reconsider her thoughts when Honjowara-sama glances at Kuroda-sensei, and says, "Do not speak in riddles, old friend."
"I speak of Gamma," sensei replies. "And all that has gone unsaid."
Honjowara-sama"s expression abruptly turns incandescent, his voice fierce with rage. "You were told never to refer to this!"
Machiko tenses, surprised, but Kuroda-sensei merely bows politely, and says, calmly, "In ancient days, a lord went hunting at Nishime. He grew angry and drew his sword, scabbard and all, and used it to beat one of his servants, a warrior. But his hand slipped and the sword fell into a ravine. The warrior, seeing this, leapt into the ravine after the sword, retrieved it, and returned it to his lord. It is said that this demonstrates loyalty and honor."
Honjowara-sama gazes fixedly at Kuroda-sensei. He appears to spend many moments gaining control of his anger. Finally, with settled spirit, he says, "You know the danger. If this matter were to become generally known."
What matter? Machiko wonders. What are they talking about?
"The greater danger lies now in silence," says Kuroda-sensei. "From outside the forest of your daily concerns. This is clear."
"And the opportunity presents itself."
"Indeed. It lingers very near."
To Machiko, it seems then as if some unseen signal pa.s.ses between the two men. Honjowara-sama looks from Kuroda-sensei to the door at his right, an interior door resembling a rice-paper panel. "Sashi," he says.
The door slides open and Sashi-san, Lady of the Tir, lady of mystery and long-time a.s.sociate of Honjowara-sama, enters the room. She wears a delicate high-waisted jacket over an elegant long dress that glimmers like waves of liquid gold. She moves with fluid grace. She gives her hand into the hand that Honjowara-sama offers and, like a petal settling to the earth, descends gracefully to her knees, and bows, to Honjowara-sama, then to Kuroda-sensei and Machiko.
Why does Honjowara-sama call this lady into the room, into a meeting concerning terrorists and possible traitors? Machiko looks closely at Sashi-san and notices something she has never observed before, a discordant element in the Lady"s manner. Sashi-san"s expression seems clouded, troubled. She lifts her eyes from the floor only to glance at Honjowara-sama and present him with a fleeting phantom of a smile. She does not look up at all in bowing to Kuroda-sensei and Machiko. Neither does she smile.
Once she is settled at Honjowara-sama"s side, Kuroda-sensei bows, rises, and walks from the room.
Into the quiet that follows Sashi-san says something to Honjowara-sama. Her voice is soft and as melodic as a song and the words she speaks are all but unknown. Is this Sperethiell, the elven tongue of Tir Tairngire? Machiko is unsure. She has always intended to learn something of the elven language, but time and opportunity have always been lacking.
And now Honjowara-sama again takes Sashi-san"s hand in his own and gently squeezes; and, looking at the lady gravely, he nods. Obviously, he means to rea.s.sure the lady, to support her, but why? What is the need?
Honjowara-sama looks to Machiko, and says, "This lady has certain information to convey to you. This information may be troubling, a challenge to the spirit, but you must not doubt its veracity. I tell you that Sashi-san is a lady of great and n.o.ble spirit. She will speak only the truth to you. Only the truth."
Machiko accepts this with a bow. She merely wonders why Honjowara-sama would choose to a.s.sure her that this lady, a close a.s.sociate of many years, considered by some to be his mistress, would speak only the truth. Machiko would expect such a person, no less than Zoge-san and Honjowara-sama"s other close a.s.sociates, to speak only the truth. The a.s.surance seems unnecessary, and yet she knows that Honjowara-sama rarely does things that are unnecessary.
Then, to Machiko"s surprise, Honjowara-sama rises and walks from the room.
What is going on here?
Moments pa.s.s. Sashi-san briefly lifts her eyes as if glancing toward the open doors at Machiko"s back. In a soft voice, she says, "Spring is upon us. Even here in the plex the air tastes of new, fresh scents. Perhaps we could sit in the garden?"
Machiko hesitates, then says, "If that is your wish."
"Yes. Please."
They move into the sunny warmth of the garden. It is a garden surrounded on all four sides by buildings of the Yoshida-kai, the headquarters building and others. The transparex roof two stories overhead admits the sun, but gives shelter to an atmosphere of serene quiet. Sashi-san, with her long dress and graceful movements, seems almost to glide over the curving stone walkway that leads to the garden"s heart.
She alights on a low wooden dais just large enough for the round cushion lying upon it, situated beside a bed of pebbles that resembles a vast ocean, marked by rocky outcrops that seem like mountainous isles amid an infinite sea, surmounted by moss like broad meadows and a few scattered bonzai like huge primeval trees.
Machiko deliberates, decides to remain standing.
"It is difficult," Sashi-san say, "facing you now. We have rarely spoken, and only briefly. Politely. Even here, in this lovely place, I am uncertain of how to choose my words or how to use them."
To Machiko, it seems that the lady is being excessively polite. "Please do not worry unduly about your choice of words. I am primarily concerned with the information the Chairman said you have to convey."
"You are a hardy warrior. A proven member of the Green Serpent Guard."
Machiko hesitates. "Have you some question about my status?"
"I merely remind myself," Sashi-san says with a brief smile. "You wear the colors of the Guard well, but you are also a woman and very attractive. Forgive me, but I have little experience in the company of women warriors. I do not wish to offend you."
It is all very curious, this lady, her words, her manner, but Machiko thrusts such thoughts from mind and focuses on the point of her and Sashi-san being together.
"Please do not worry about offending me," Machiko says. "Recent events compel us to move ahead as efficiently as possible."
Sashi-san seems to grasp the veiled suggestion in this. She appears to consider her thoughts very briefly. "I should perhaps begin by speaking of Tir Tairngire. You are aware, I"m certain, that the Tir rose from within the lands formerly occupied by the Salish-Shidhe tribal peoples. And that independence did not come until 2035."
Machiko nods. "I am familiar with the Tir"s historical background."
"What elf is not?" And here Sashi-san smiles, but the smile seems tentative, perhaps tender. To Machiko, it seems as if the lady is unsure, yet wishes to convey some discreet meaning, woman to woman. Machiko wonders what is intended. Obviously, they are both elves. They are both just as obviously of Asian lineage, despite the statement of Sashi-san"s golden hair.
"In the early days," Sashi-san says, "it was never certain that we would succeed in founding the Land of Promise. At first, there were only a very few involved. We faced much determined opposition. Many worked actively against us. Certain of our number struggled constantly to find what allies we could. We knew of course that a country could not be woven wholly out of dreams and pleasant desires. There must be concrete resources to match the vision. Did you know that Honjowara Okido helped to supply these resources?"
"No, I did not know," Machiko replies. Yet, it has always been clear that some connection exists between Nagato Combine and the Tir. It has often been said that Sashi-san, in some capacity, represents the interests of the Tir to Honjowara-sama.
Sashi-san smiles, and says, "Okido-san helped us in many ways. He served as our factor in a world dominated by norms, and as our friend in a world controlled by many enemies. Most importantly, in the beginning, he helped us to secure credit, and to obtain the materials and expertise we so desperately needed."
In an effort to move the talk along, Machiko asks, "Why does Honjowara-sama believe it is important for me to know this?"
"Because this is where it all begins, everything I must tell you. It is bound together by relations between Tir Taimgire and Nagato Combine, between Okido-san and I. It is where your beginning may be found, as well."
"My beginning? I have never been to the Tir."
"You have," Sashi-san says. And placing a hand at her waist, over the stomach, she adds, "When you were here. With me."
Machiko is a moment grasping the implication. A moment more ascertaining that Sashi-san does not appear to be joking. "Excuse me, but this is not possible, what you are saying."
The tender look returns to Sashi-san"s features. Her smile grows almost excruciatingly vulnerable. "We met in Seattle, Okido-san and I. It was the year that the Native American Nations opened their lands to metas. There had been no riots for some time. The terror that was to come was many years away. It seemed, to some of us, that the world was finally becoming accustomed to the Awakening. We were hearing much in those days of Okido-san and his New Way. I remember so clearly his words, how we must move with the tide of the Sixth World, or be swallowed by hatred. We who believed in the Land of Promise, who sought to create it, were very impressed with the man. When he traveled to Seattle, it was in the spring. I was sent to meet him, to determine if his words could be believed, if he was prepared to back his ideals. I had only the Promise to offer, future consideration, yet Okido-san not only met me but talked with me through the night. There was a chemistry between us. We both felt it. We had so much in common, beginning with the most basic ideals. We soon fell in love. Later that year, I discovered that love had borne fruit. There could be no doubt as to the father, as I have never been with any man but one." Machiko struggles to maintain a settled spirit, but this is very difficult. She feels as though she is listening to a fantasy that goes beyond impossible. "Excuse me if I seem rude," she says, "but you clearly have me confused with someone else. Of course, I accept what you say concerning your relations with Honjowara-sama. I feel greatly privileged to be entrusted with such intimate information. But there is no question about my lineage. I have seen the records. My biological parents were both elves and they were killed in a terrorist bombing."
Sashi-san"s expression grows very clouded. "I am sure that you must be aware that no records are inviolate. That they may be changed. Created out of whole cloth."
"Not without reason."
"There were compelling reasons. There still are. Consider the world around us. It is nearly five decades since the Awakening and still bigotry simmers. Hatred foments. Why must Okido-san be constantly surrounded by loyal warriors? Why must he work constantly to keep Nagato Combine bound together? Because the divisive elements will use any excuse to tear apart what he has brought together. And we of Tir Tairngire are confronted daily by many of these same enemies."
This would be intolerable, an outrage, coming from anyone less than Honjowara-sama"s own mistress. "If Honjowara-sama were indeed my biological father, a concept I regard as incredible, and do not accept, he would not leave it to you to inform me of the fact. He would face me and say what must be said and then he would explain it." Sashi-san looks briefly down at her lap, then meets Machiko"s gaze directly and says, quietly, "A son he would face. A daughter he gives to my hands. Should not a mother be the one to speak of such things with a daughter? If you wish, I will ask Okido-san to come here in my place."
It is not as simple as that. Honjowara-sama has already said that Sashi-san would speak only the truth. What she says may be unbelievable-as much a challenge to the spirit as to simple comprehension-but to seek confirmation from Honjowara-sama, that would be an intolerable affront. An insult directed at him personally. "I still have heard no compelling reasons why the records of my background should be falsified."
Sashi-san brushes briefly at her eyes. "When I returned from Seattle," she says, softly, "I reported that Okido-san was very eager to help us found the Land of Promise. He was willing to work with us, though we had little to offer but the future. There were those among us who entertained doubts, who suspected that Okido-san offered help only as a means to gain power over us, and all that we were to create. When they learned that Okido-san and I were lovers, they presented me with a plan. A plan designed to test my loyalty and Okido-san"s ideals."
"What plan?" Machiko asks.
"A very difficult plan," Sashi-san says. "I only hope that you will understand because you have sworn to surrender your life in defense of Okido-san. That is the depth of your commitment. I have made a similar commitment, a comparable sacrifice. I have given up part of my life."
The meaning of this is clear. Sashi-san has done what she has done because of duty. Is no sacrifice too great if duty demands it? Machiko hesitates to ask what must be asked, the question that her heart compels her to ask. "What have you given up?"
"The plan I speak of required me to surrender my unborn child, the small embryo that had taken root inside me during my time in Seattle. It was exchanged for the embryo of a norm taken from among Okido-san"s people. From Chizu-san. Sumatsu Chizu."
This name, the name of Machiko"s adoptive mother, her "birth" mother, brings a gnawing feeling of dread. It brings Machiko a sense of horror that grows and grows. "This is not possible," she says, but the lack of conviction in her voice reveals her inner fears. "My mother, she could never ... You do not know her. You do not know how desperately she wanted a child, her own child."
"Chizu-san is a loyal executive. As is her husband. Both your surrogate parents have fully embraced the Chairman"s New Way."
Machiko cannot deny this. Cannot imagine anything to say, but, "You do not know them."
Sashi-san looks to her with eyes that gleam with pain, and, in an anguished tone, says, "Consider your name. Who but Honjowara Okido could have given you such a name?"
It is like a small sword, slipping into Machiko"s midsection. The question has always been there, throughout her whole life. Never really considered in a serious way, but never entirely dismissed or forgotten. It is impossible not to see the similarity between "Machiko" and the name, "machi-yakko," for the ancient warriors, ancestor of the Honjowara-gumi, who defended the common peoples against unruly bands of ronin samurai. It is just as impossible not to see the implied connection between the name and Honjowara-sama"s New Way, the condemnation of gangster methods and hatred against metahumans, the campaign to return the clans to the honorable path of their ancestors.
Machiko has always been proud to have such a name. She has always felt that Machiko Combine is her own in as close and personal a way as her parents are her own. Yet, she has often wondered why her parents, her step-parents, would choose such a name for her. They are very loyal and honorable people and approve whole-heartedly of the New Way. However, their first loyalty is not to Nagato Combine, but to Nagato Corp, and that is perfectly natural, for they are both executives, but it does present a certain puzzle.
Why would they honor her with a name remembering so much of the ancient clans? Machiko has asked this a number of times. Always, the answers she received suggested that any reasons for giving her the name were considered only casually.
Now Machiko wonders if the answer kneels before her, with eyes bleeding drops of gold.
"You are a child of exchange," Sashi-san says softly. "My child. The adopted child of Nagato Combine. The first of many."
Machiko struggles to find some response. "You mean there are others . . . ?"
"Have you never marveled that so many elves, so many with capabilities like your own, should emerge from the ranks of Nagato Combine?"
For this, Machiko has no answer. The ranks of Nagato Combine include many thousands of people and many of them are elves. Machiko has never concerned herself with the precise figures or percentages because she is no statistician. She is a warrior, member of the Guard. That the GSG should be composed primarily of elves who are also physical adepts has never been anything but a source of pride in herself, in the Guard, and in Nagato Combine.
"You see yourselves as symbolic of the Chairman"s New Way, and indeed you are this, but this is not all you are. To those of Tir Tairngire, you represent Okido-san"s commitment to his own principles. Wherever he goes, he walks with elves, he relies on elves for his safety, in plain view of the whole world. Few people know such commitment."
Machiko struggles to settle her spirit. She is not succeeding at this task. "What you are describing to me is not a plan, or a test. It is a program. A covert program of exchange."
Sashi-san bows in acknowledgment. "It was presented to me as a test. Later, it became apparent that more was involved."
"Why?" Machiko struggles to breathe, to breath freely. The dread and horror filling her belly rise into her chest, aching unbearably. "What savage mind could conceive of-?"
For a moment, she can say no more.
Sashi-san fills the void, using a voice grown as frail and tender as a reed. "The princes of Tir Tairngire take a long view. A dispa.s.sionate view. They gaze upon the world through the lens of the Promise and consider what must be done to preserve our land. They foresaw a time when our small land would be surrounded by many powerful enemies. They foresaw the inevitable, inescapable fact that we must know what our enemies intend. We must have information. They knew we must develop strong allies, and indeed our allies tell us much, but there is much that even allies such as Okido-san cannot tell us. We must have resources of our own, and some of our greatest resources are not elves, but norms. Adopted children. Norms raised and educated among elves. Norms loyal to the Promise. Norms as ardently loyal to Tir Tairngire as you of the Guard are loyal to Nagato Combine."
"And why would Honjowara-sama cooperate with such a program?"
"For all these same reasons. For the sake of allies and what allies may provide. For promises made and promises fulfilled. For the future. For all that he has ever hoped to accomplish and all that he dreams of one day making real." Sashi pauses to smile a pained smile, then adds, "The princes of Tir Tairngire may have once been in need of financial resources, but they are not without power. Arcane power. Power one might equate with the Great Ghost Dance."
The rationales do little to soothe Machiko"s heart. The underlying cruelty of the exchange program hacks at her ruthlessly. Can there be anything more savage than to separate mother and child? What monster could conceive of such a program? It is heinous. Insidious. And yet the rational part of her mind whispers the words, Sashi"s words, that seem so loathsome. What would she not sacrifice to defend the Chairman of Nagato Combine? Could the commands of duty ever be too great?
She does not know. Has no answer. She has lived all her life with duty at her shoulder, always at the forefront of her daily concerns. Is there anything she would not do? Can any person really know until they are put to the test?
The warrior"s Way is death. The warrior must live as though she is already dead, her life already given up.
Wise words. Small comfort.
"Perhaps the norms are right," Machiko says, battling through the churning sea of her own emotion. "Perhaps we are heartless monsters. Nefarious schemers. We elves."