Anthology - SHADOWRUN - Spells and Chrome

Shigeda-sama sat behind the low desk, blood spread dark across the front of his immaculate dress shirt, his face frozen in an expression of shock, mouth open, and eyes wide. He hadn't even had time to call out.

When the doors opened, Tomashi turned towards Kage, gun held before him like a talisman, twin of Kage's own.

"Do what you have to do," he muttered, finger tightening on the trigger as he raised the weapon. He jerked and the shot went wide when the bodyguard's first bullet took him in the eye, staggered back towards the desk, then sprawled across it when another shot hit him in the chest, then another. He was laid out in front of his father, gun falling from his nerveless fingers to the floor with a clatter. The older man's head was thrown back, mouth open, as if in mourning.

Time started again. Kage took in the bloody tableau for what seemed like an eternity, dimly aware of the sounds of alarm in the house, of people shouting and running. Then awareness opened like a flower blooming in his mind and he turned away, scooping up the fallen Fichetti and letting the panel doors close over the scene. It was more than just fortunate that he was packed and ready to go. It was providence.

"You will leave tonight," the Chairman had said. His words were truth.

The design of the low desk in the Chairman's office was modern and Western, its dark glass surface a standard display and touch interface. Kanaga Sato brushed aside newsfeed windows and status reports with a flick of his fingers, scattering them like neon leaves as an incoming comm window opened from the dark depths of the glass.

"It is done?" a man's voice asked in Japanese, and the kobun nodded. "Good. Oversee the investigation. When the dust settles, you will have my support… Chairman-san."

"Thank you, Shotozumi-sama," Kanaga said with a slight bow towards the desk. The window closed, leaving only his reflection in the dark depths.

The slow smile spreading across the kobun's thin-lipped mouth froze at the press of something cold and sharp against the side of his throat. He didn't turn around, barely moved except to slide his right hand slowly over…

"Don't," came the flat voice from just behind his left ear, the pressure on the blade increased just slightly. The hand stopped, hovering where it was.

"Yojimbo," Kanaga said quietly. "You're still here."

"Was I expected to run?" the bodyguard replied softly. "Was that how it was planned?"

"I don't…" the bladed pressed again, and he stopped, swallowed.

"I know this place better than anyone," Kage continued, "well enough to know how difficult it would be for an assassin to get in without help."

"Assassin?" Kanaga said in mock surprise. "Everyone knows what happened, or soon will. After all, your weapons were used in the killings. Tomashi…"

"Tomashi had his bad qualities," Kage said, "but one thing he could never do was stand up to his father. He wouldn't-couldn't-have done this on his own. He wasn't in his right mind when…"

"When you killed him?"

"When you forced me to kill him."

"How do you know I had anything to do with it?"

"I didn't, for certain, until just now. I only suspected." Kage's free hand touched the edge of the desktop, out of the corner of Kanaga's field of vision. "Oyabun Shotozumi-sama seemed pleased."

Kanaga swallowed slowly. "And now you're here for revenge?" he asked.

"No, answers."

"To what?"

"How… and why?"

"I think you know the second one already."

"Yes… I knew you were a traditionalist, Sato, but I never thought…"

"I would take action?"

"That you would betray the Chairman," he corrected.

"He is the one who betrayed us," Kanaga hissed through gritted teeth, "betrayed our traditions!"

"Oh?" Kage observed. "Like the tradition of using others as puppets? How did you get him to do it, Sato?"

"It wasn't hard," the kobun replied with a slight shrug. "You made it easy, in fact."

"I…" Kage breathed, then sighed. "The sims."

Sato smiled without humor or warmth. "Yes. A subliminal program, a viral subfeed."

"That woman…"

"A puppet," he replied. "Like Tomashi… like you."

Kage recalled the woman's intense stare, the endless depths of her dark eyes, the signs she was bunraku.

"Why didn't it affect me?"

"The program needed to be compressed into a tightly contained data pulse to be transmitted by the carrier's corneal emitters. It only extracts and runs in the simsense playback, and even then only during direct experience of the wet record. You would have had to replay the sim, which, of course, there was no reason for you to do. If you had, it would have served just as well. Its effect is quite limited, but profound. Fortunately, it didn't need to last long. Once I found out about Tomashi's new 'hobby,' it seemed like a prime opportunity."

"You know what you have to do," she had said, pressing the gun into his hand. She hadn't been talking to him. He thought of Tomashi, reliving that moment as the invasive program unfolded and ran through his brain.

Kage pulled the knife away from Kanaga's throat slightly. His hand was shaking and he focused to steady it, and keep it from slashing across the steady pulse of the artery there.

"So," the kobun said with remarkable calm. "You have your answers. What now? The man you protected is dead. The man who employed you is dead, and the rest of his men know their place and will shoot you on sight. It's only a matter of time before they realize you're here, if they haven't already. You'll never leave here alive. Do you kill me now and go out in a blaze of glory?"

He stopped when Kage drew his pistol and leveled it at him, stepping around to the side of the desk, keeping his eyes-and his gun-fixed on Kanaga.

"I should kill you," he said. "In fact, honor demands it, does it not? But you were right about Tomashi's habit being an opportunity. I've had some time to think things over while waiting for you. For the first time in my life, I'm free of obligations, free of debts, and tired of being used. That's why the sim of this conversation is being transmitted and stored someplace safe." The new Chairman's eyes widened only slightly, but it was enough for a moment of understanding to pass between him and the former bodyguard. "If anything happens to me… I won't be the only one to go out in a blaze of glory. Sometimes it's better to just fade away."

He stepped back from the desk towards the doors of the study, and they slid open. Kage's eyes-and the unwavering gun barrel-remained locked on the man behind the desk until he was through them and they closed in front of him.

Sato immediately opened a new comm window on the desktop.

"Yojimbo has just left my… the Chairman's office," he told the man on the line.

"What are your orders, sir?"

"Let him go. He's nothing, and no one, now." The other man hesitated, confusion clearly written on his face, but only for a moment. He was trained to follow orders, not to question them.

"Hai!" he replied, nodding sharply. Sato closed the window and sat back in the chair, his own, rather than the one Shigeda died in. He would need to get a newer one, befitting his new station, he mused. He glanced out the darkened windows; the rain had stopped, although droplets of moisture still ran down the outside of the glass.

Fade away, then, he thought to the now nameless, masterless man headed out into that empty night. Fade away, into the shadows.

The Spirit drifted over to the curb and eased to a stop. Paulie was an excellent rigger and one of the few I would trust to remote me anywhere, especially after more than twenty years hiding out. You get used to not trusting anyone when you have been under the radar that long.