Gone But Not Forgotten (chapter 1) [FIC]
Posted: Thu Sep 29, 2005 7:37 pm
The girl walked away slowly, disappointed.
Wind tugging at his lapels, Sousuke watched as the prostitute began searching out other potential customers. Her height, build, and hair color reminded him of someone else.
Even though he had spent a number of weeks in Thailand, and the reputation of that country’s sex trade rivaled that of Manila, Bombay, and Phuket, he had never once spent money for female partners. He didn’t have to. And while the other women he came across inexplicably showed interest in him, he never followed up offers that were personal instead of professional.
He had traveled to different countries, working the Arm Slave tournament junket. There had been women that he had grown close to. They had died or purposefully disappeared when the enemy got wind of him again. None had gotten as close as they would have liked to. Not one of them could erase the image that once more flashed onto his mind.
Kaname. What had happened to her ever since she voluntarily left with Leonard, in order to prevent more deaths, his own included? How might their life have gone, if he had runoff together with her, before Tessa’s brother had attacked Tokyo, destroyed Arbalest limb by limb, and caused the destruction of the ARX-7s redoubtable A.I.?
That was one more person that he had lost, in a sense. Al had been growing by leaps and bounds, and had begun getting a good rudimentary understanding of human behavior. In some ways, the machine had become more insightful than its human partner.
Wrinkling his nose, the mercenary soldier sighed in annoyance at the persistent air pollution that arose from the eternal massive traffic jams that plagued Bangkok. The horizon looked somewhat hazy, detracting from the colorful event that was taking place in the Phramane Ground near the Grand Palace. The kite fighting tournament had drawn countless people to the national capital.
Dainty diamond-shaped Pakpao kites used long starched cloth tails as snares, together with formidable semi-circular string loops hanging from the string that flew them. The speed and agility of the ‘female’ kites were decisive in offense and defense. Giant ‘male’ Chula kites had strips of split bamboo formed into grappling hooks, spaced along their string. They ventured boldly into Pakpao space in efforts to entangle and force down one or two Pakpaos per sortie.
It was a friendly competition, at least in theory. Kites could be damaged. Tempers could flair. To some, it was very serious business. The same could be said for the Arm Slave competitions that were now in vogue throughout Asia and the Far East. It was more than competition. For some, it was a livelihood, or a way to showcase their talents for prospective bosses. For Sousuke Sagara, it was a chance to tap into the whispers and secret knowledge that some pilots had access too. At least it had been, until his actions drew the attention of people from the very group he sought information on.
He was one of the fortunate ones. People he had grown close to had died as a result of actions prompted by Amalgam. So, in a real sense, their blood was on his hands and his conscience. They were not as fortunate as him, able to move onto another trail, chasing down the one thing that still burned at his heart and tortured his mind.
He had come to Thailand, knowing that the armed forces were faced with groups of Thai Muslim separatists, who were supposedly supported by the Malaysian Kampulan Mujahedin. While the covert assistance may well have originated in Malaysia, it was not coming from Jemaah Islamiyah, which has ties to the al-Qaida terror network. It had nothing to do with the efforts of decades past, when some men dreamed of creating a Muslim state in parts of Thailand, Cambodia, and Malaysia. No, if Sousuke’s suspicions were correct, the shadow of Amalgam stood behind the troubles faced by the ‘Land of Smiles.’
“Mister Sagara, I am gratified to find you waiting for me, and on time.” A small nondescript man with an impossibly large mustache approached Sousuke, hand extended. He shook hands with Sousuke. “May we walk?”
Out of uniform, the Thai squad leader did not attract the attention of the milling crowds that he and Sousuke made their way through. Both men ignored the call of roadside vendors, and left the throng behind them as they strolled along the streets that were built when the elaborate elaborate network of canals that once gave the city the nickname ‘Venice of the East’ had been filled in.
“Do you have need of my services again?” Sousuke brushed away the hands of a young pickpocket, feeling a brief surge of nostalgia related to his own younger days in Kabul. “I had thought that the latest threats had been successfully neutralized.” He had led the nascent Arm Slave forces of the Thai Royal Army against the unexpectedly strong Separist army. The fighting had been brutal and decisive. Kurama's dying comments had brought him to this country. While he found no traces of a blue-haired girl, he did happen upon the information that he needed, as well as the means to reach his destination.
“We would gladly keep you as a guest in our country as long as you were willing to stay, Sergeant. However, that is not the reason I arranged to meet with you today.” The soldier looked around, catching an eye of one of his operatives posing as a fish hawker. That man nodded his head, indicating that there was no evidence of potential trouble brewing. “Happily, for you, this is about your payment.”
“I see,” Sousuke said, his posture stiffening some. Another domino had fallen. He was making progress. That was good news; but, it was stressful as well. The closer he got to Kaname, the more danger he would put himself and others in. Everything was predicated on reaching her and rescuing her. He was not obsessed with taking on Amalgam for vengeance, and he had no desire to be a lone crusader of justice. If Kaname were dead, he would need to find another goal in his life. If she wanted nothing to do with him, and refused to leave in his company, his world would change once again. That was assuming that he could find a way to locate her precise location, and make his way through whatever security measures the enemy had.
“I think you will be pleased,” the Thai soldier said. “Not only have we arranged for the transportation you require, but we have also taken it upon ourselves to offer more substantial assistance.” He smiled, his dark eyes lighting up. “You see, it is in our best interest to cut of the head of the snake that keeps creeping into our home. And, there are others who seem intent on taking the fight to other shores.”
“Understood.” Sousuke was still nothing of a conversationalist. There was no point in rejecting an obvious point of generosity, especially when other people were acting on their own behalf. But, he was not going to be part of a team, no matter what anyone else thought. The others could follow or get out of the way. If they became an impediment, he would leave them to their own devices. He was close now. He was certain of it. He could not let anything trip him up.
There were no guarantees, of course. Unexpected occurrences had become anathema to him, starting with the sudden devastating strike on Mithril and her resources, and ending at his last days at a tournament in Cambodia. Things had been going well in that constitutional monarchy. His team was leading in the standings, and once again he was up for high honors at the competition, using the alias he had adopted. Word was that one of the new entries had information that he wanted to hear.
There are two great complexes of ancient temples in Southeast Asia, one at Bagan in Burma, the other at Angkor in Cambodia. The temples of Angkor, built by the Khmer civilization between 802 and 1220 AD, represent one of humankind's most astonishing and enduring architectural achievements. From there, Khmer kings ruled over a vast domain that reached from Vietnam to China to the Bay of Bengal. More than one hundred survive, while untold numbers of palaces, public buildings, and houses had long since decayed and disappeared. On the ground that they once graced, a temporary tournament stadium had been built.
The temples are a source of great pride for the country's people. A depiction of Angkor Wat has been a part of every Cambodian national flag since the introduction of the first version, circa 1863, the only building to appear on any national flag. Riots had erupted in Phnom Penh when a false rumor circulated that a Thai soap opera actress had claimed that Angkor Wat belonged to Thailand. Luckily, the tensions that had arisen over that incident were no longer a problem.
As one might expect, the area is a major tourist destination, with close to one million people visiting each year. The Ministry of Tourism had arranged for the Arm Slave tournament to be held, making it one of the few such tournaments that were not handled by an underground group of arrangers and bettors.
In the twelfth century, Jayavaram VII had long ago spoken of his intentions in erecting the temples. In his own words, he had been “full of deep sympathy for the good of the world, so as to bestow on men the ambrosia of remedies to win them immortality….by virtue of these good works would that I might rescue all those who are struggling in the ocean of existence.” Be that as it may, in the shadows the one hundred and eight towers of the temple of Phnom Bakheng, death came stalking, bringing with it anything but sympathy and hope for the world. A number of competitors had been agents. Killers had struck. A red-haired girl had died, no longer able to idolize him, or hold out her heart in hopes that he would chose a flesh and blood girl instead of a memory.
“Nami,” Sousuke whispered to himself. She was not the only one he had lost; but, her absence hurt the most. Why did so many people whose lives he crossed sooner or later suffer a drastic fate? Was there any reason to hope for some kind of life with Kaname, should he be lucky enough to free her from captivity? He himself never seemed to be far from death. If it hadn't been for Michel, he would have died from the wounds he took the day that Kurama murdered Nami.
“Did you say something?” The long time soldier raised one eyebrow, and then nodded. He was used to the young man’s idiosyncrasies by now. “Anyway, we will no longer be sending you through Suvarnabhumi.” That was the name of a new international airport with the largest single terminal in the world, and some of the most technologically advanced services in the region. “You will be able to carry weapons with you, as you will be departing from one of our military facilities. I have arranged to sneak you in, so there should be no problems.”
“That will make things easier, especially since I will need effective weapons against the threat of Arastols. I suspect that we will see the robots in Malaysia, if Amalgam does indeed have one of their key facilities in that country.” Sousuke thought back to previous encounters with the deadly machines, a product of the imagination of Leonard Testarossa, the man who had defeated him. The man who had taken Kaname away. The man who had been responsible for Kyouko’s injuries. The man whose actions had caused him to reveal his true identity to his classmates.
He had promised them all, that he would find their former Vice President and Class representative. He had promised them that he would bring her back. He would keep his word.
Death was the only thing that would stop him.
Wind tugging at his lapels, Sousuke watched as the prostitute began searching out other potential customers. Her height, build, and hair color reminded him of someone else.
Even though he had spent a number of weeks in Thailand, and the reputation of that country’s sex trade rivaled that of Manila, Bombay, and Phuket, he had never once spent money for female partners. He didn’t have to. And while the other women he came across inexplicably showed interest in him, he never followed up offers that were personal instead of professional.
He had traveled to different countries, working the Arm Slave tournament junket. There had been women that he had grown close to. They had died or purposefully disappeared when the enemy got wind of him again. None had gotten as close as they would have liked to. Not one of them could erase the image that once more flashed onto his mind.
Kaname. What had happened to her ever since she voluntarily left with Leonard, in order to prevent more deaths, his own included? How might their life have gone, if he had runoff together with her, before Tessa’s brother had attacked Tokyo, destroyed Arbalest limb by limb, and caused the destruction of the ARX-7s redoubtable A.I.?
That was one more person that he had lost, in a sense. Al had been growing by leaps and bounds, and had begun getting a good rudimentary understanding of human behavior. In some ways, the machine had become more insightful than its human partner.
Wrinkling his nose, the mercenary soldier sighed in annoyance at the persistent air pollution that arose from the eternal massive traffic jams that plagued Bangkok. The horizon looked somewhat hazy, detracting from the colorful event that was taking place in the Phramane Ground near the Grand Palace. The kite fighting tournament had drawn countless people to the national capital.
Dainty diamond-shaped Pakpao kites used long starched cloth tails as snares, together with formidable semi-circular string loops hanging from the string that flew them. The speed and agility of the ‘female’ kites were decisive in offense and defense. Giant ‘male’ Chula kites had strips of split bamboo formed into grappling hooks, spaced along their string. They ventured boldly into Pakpao space in efforts to entangle and force down one or two Pakpaos per sortie.
It was a friendly competition, at least in theory. Kites could be damaged. Tempers could flair. To some, it was very serious business. The same could be said for the Arm Slave competitions that were now in vogue throughout Asia and the Far East. It was more than competition. For some, it was a livelihood, or a way to showcase their talents for prospective bosses. For Sousuke Sagara, it was a chance to tap into the whispers and secret knowledge that some pilots had access too. At least it had been, until his actions drew the attention of people from the very group he sought information on.
He was one of the fortunate ones. People he had grown close to had died as a result of actions prompted by Amalgam. So, in a real sense, their blood was on his hands and his conscience. They were not as fortunate as him, able to move onto another trail, chasing down the one thing that still burned at his heart and tortured his mind.
He had come to Thailand, knowing that the armed forces were faced with groups of Thai Muslim separatists, who were supposedly supported by the Malaysian Kampulan Mujahedin. While the covert assistance may well have originated in Malaysia, it was not coming from Jemaah Islamiyah, which has ties to the al-Qaida terror network. It had nothing to do with the efforts of decades past, when some men dreamed of creating a Muslim state in parts of Thailand, Cambodia, and Malaysia. No, if Sousuke’s suspicions were correct, the shadow of Amalgam stood behind the troubles faced by the ‘Land of Smiles.’
“Mister Sagara, I am gratified to find you waiting for me, and on time.” A small nondescript man with an impossibly large mustache approached Sousuke, hand extended. He shook hands with Sousuke. “May we walk?”
Out of uniform, the Thai squad leader did not attract the attention of the milling crowds that he and Sousuke made their way through. Both men ignored the call of roadside vendors, and left the throng behind them as they strolled along the streets that were built when the elaborate elaborate network of canals that once gave the city the nickname ‘Venice of the East’ had been filled in.
“Do you have need of my services again?” Sousuke brushed away the hands of a young pickpocket, feeling a brief surge of nostalgia related to his own younger days in Kabul. “I had thought that the latest threats had been successfully neutralized.” He had led the nascent Arm Slave forces of the Thai Royal Army against the unexpectedly strong Separist army. The fighting had been brutal and decisive. Kurama's dying comments had brought him to this country. While he found no traces of a blue-haired girl, he did happen upon the information that he needed, as well as the means to reach his destination.
“We would gladly keep you as a guest in our country as long as you were willing to stay, Sergeant. However, that is not the reason I arranged to meet with you today.” The soldier looked around, catching an eye of one of his operatives posing as a fish hawker. That man nodded his head, indicating that there was no evidence of potential trouble brewing. “Happily, for you, this is about your payment.”
“I see,” Sousuke said, his posture stiffening some. Another domino had fallen. He was making progress. That was good news; but, it was stressful as well. The closer he got to Kaname, the more danger he would put himself and others in. Everything was predicated on reaching her and rescuing her. He was not obsessed with taking on Amalgam for vengeance, and he had no desire to be a lone crusader of justice. If Kaname were dead, he would need to find another goal in his life. If she wanted nothing to do with him, and refused to leave in his company, his world would change once again. That was assuming that he could find a way to locate her precise location, and make his way through whatever security measures the enemy had.
“I think you will be pleased,” the Thai soldier said. “Not only have we arranged for the transportation you require, but we have also taken it upon ourselves to offer more substantial assistance.” He smiled, his dark eyes lighting up. “You see, it is in our best interest to cut of the head of the snake that keeps creeping into our home. And, there are others who seem intent on taking the fight to other shores.”
“Understood.” Sousuke was still nothing of a conversationalist. There was no point in rejecting an obvious point of generosity, especially when other people were acting on their own behalf. But, he was not going to be part of a team, no matter what anyone else thought. The others could follow or get out of the way. If they became an impediment, he would leave them to their own devices. He was close now. He was certain of it. He could not let anything trip him up.
There were no guarantees, of course. Unexpected occurrences had become anathema to him, starting with the sudden devastating strike on Mithril and her resources, and ending at his last days at a tournament in Cambodia. Things had been going well in that constitutional monarchy. His team was leading in the standings, and once again he was up for high honors at the competition, using the alias he had adopted. Word was that one of the new entries had information that he wanted to hear.
There are two great complexes of ancient temples in Southeast Asia, one at Bagan in Burma, the other at Angkor in Cambodia. The temples of Angkor, built by the Khmer civilization between 802 and 1220 AD, represent one of humankind's most astonishing and enduring architectural achievements. From there, Khmer kings ruled over a vast domain that reached from Vietnam to China to the Bay of Bengal. More than one hundred survive, while untold numbers of palaces, public buildings, and houses had long since decayed and disappeared. On the ground that they once graced, a temporary tournament stadium had been built.
The temples are a source of great pride for the country's people. A depiction of Angkor Wat has been a part of every Cambodian national flag since the introduction of the first version, circa 1863, the only building to appear on any national flag. Riots had erupted in Phnom Penh when a false rumor circulated that a Thai soap opera actress had claimed that Angkor Wat belonged to Thailand. Luckily, the tensions that had arisen over that incident were no longer a problem.
As one might expect, the area is a major tourist destination, with close to one million people visiting each year. The Ministry of Tourism had arranged for the Arm Slave tournament to be held, making it one of the few such tournaments that were not handled by an underground group of arrangers and bettors.
In the twelfth century, Jayavaram VII had long ago spoken of his intentions in erecting the temples. In his own words, he had been “full of deep sympathy for the good of the world, so as to bestow on men the ambrosia of remedies to win them immortality….by virtue of these good works would that I might rescue all those who are struggling in the ocean of existence.” Be that as it may, in the shadows the one hundred and eight towers of the temple of Phnom Bakheng, death came stalking, bringing with it anything but sympathy and hope for the world. A number of competitors had been agents. Killers had struck. A red-haired girl had died, no longer able to idolize him, or hold out her heart in hopes that he would chose a flesh and blood girl instead of a memory.
“Nami,” Sousuke whispered to himself. She was not the only one he had lost; but, her absence hurt the most. Why did so many people whose lives he crossed sooner or later suffer a drastic fate? Was there any reason to hope for some kind of life with Kaname, should he be lucky enough to free her from captivity? He himself never seemed to be far from death. If it hadn't been for Michel, he would have died from the wounds he took the day that Kurama murdered Nami.
“Did you say something?” The long time soldier raised one eyebrow, and then nodded. He was used to the young man’s idiosyncrasies by now. “Anyway, we will no longer be sending you through Suvarnabhumi.” That was the name of a new international airport with the largest single terminal in the world, and some of the most technologically advanced services in the region. “You will be able to carry weapons with you, as you will be departing from one of our military facilities. I have arranged to sneak you in, so there should be no problems.”
“That will make things easier, especially since I will need effective weapons against the threat of Arastols. I suspect that we will see the robots in Malaysia, if Amalgam does indeed have one of their key facilities in that country.” Sousuke thought back to previous encounters with the deadly machines, a product of the imagination of Leonard Testarossa, the man who had defeated him. The man who had taken Kaname away. The man who had been responsible for Kyouko’s injuries. The man whose actions had caused him to reveal his true identity to his classmates.
He had promised them all, that he would find their former Vice President and Class representative. He had promised them that he would bring her back. He would keep his word.
Death was the only thing that would stop him.
Hope you won't mind some random feedback. (Constructive. At least I hope it is constructive.)
More importantly, "nothing of a conversationalist" sounds awkward too. Maybe "not much of a" or "not a big" or something?