"Have We Started the Fire?"

The flying taxi dropped them off at a large public park on the 421st floor of Kyu-Pyramid. Smoke still rose from the collapsed sections of Ju-Ichi-Pyramid; police-drones and labor-bots already flew across the sky in V-formations, on their way to investigate. Below these blinking red-and-blue lights, the victorious Dime Boys and friends tied up Haraguchi, his Polymermen, and the Tigers. They were all unconscious except for Haraguchi; Azuki herself tied the final knot.

“I’m sorry,” Haraguchi mumbled.

“I know,” Azuki answered. “I understand that you did it out of love. But love doesn’t give you carte blanche to hurt others. Same with the rest of your Polymermen.”

Haraguchi sighed through his nostrils. “It’s just tough, being alone.”

“I know,” Azuki repeated.

Haraguchi studied her for a long while. “No. No, you don’t.”

Azuki departed. Zipper now stood before Haraguchi. “Kidnapping’s bad, so don’t do it again, dig? But I know that loneliness can drive you crazy. Enjoy your friendship with the fellas for once, right-o? Instead of kidnapping women or shooting pie-guns, play some pool or something.”

Zipper glanced back at her own friends and comrades. “We’re lucky to have friends. Don’t lose them in the search for something greater.”

Haraguchi slowly nodded, then hung his head low in shame.

With that out of the way, the victors conversed in a little grove at the edge of the park, the swirling kaleidoscope of Neo-Neon Tokyo visible beyond the railing, city lights rising into the night sky. Nat and Charles wrapped bandages around Altamont’s wounded wing; Kaede stood with her arms crossed while Kyoko muttered a subdued, “Yaho…”; Azuki sighed; Sue picked her nose; Zipper rested her back on the railing, the city behind her. For a victory party, the atmosphere sure was sad.

“Say, Azuki,” said Zipper, venturing forward on a sensitive topic. “What’s that whole story with that back tattoo of yours?”

Azuki arrived next to her on the railing, gazing out into the city. Beneath her kimono, Zipper could still picture that fantastical-dastical tattoo, something so fantastical it bordered on ominous, something forbidden.

“Grace knew what she was talking about,” supposed Azuki. “I inherited the twenty-fourth piece of Jackson’s formula, just as my father did before me, and his father before that, all the way back to 2025. It was our secret passed from generation to generation. When the time was right, the twenty-four parts of the formula would be found, and this formula would change the laws of nature itself. Allow us to remake reality down to its very structure. Something esoteric like that.”

She looked off to the side. “I disagreed with my father. I said there was no need to change the laws of nature. We’re fine enough as it is. We already have enough space to love and create, even if reality isn't perfect. But he said nothing had the right to define Man’s boundaries except Man Himself. My father wanted me to marry Haraguchi, who would’ve been a soldier or warrior in another life.”

“And you fell in love with Joe,” Zipper said.

A small smile. “I did, because he’s an artist in this life.”

Kaede spat on the dirt. “How pathetic, though. Kidnappings? Supporting that bastard Lawrence? Robots have handled our politics since the Big War, and humans oughta care more. I agree with that. But the second humans get involved, we have abductions and shootouts.”

“I guess we forgot how to have political debates,” Zipper said. She pondered that some more. “Isn’t it strange? We’re all kind of lonely and searching for Something, Do-Nothings and Polymermen both, but our answers come out so wildly different."

Kaede’s eyes darkened beneath her beret. She punched an open palm. “Well, those guys arrived at the wrong answers.” But her eyes lingered on Zipper, and her face relaxed. “Thanks for saving Azuki. She went on a walk during her break, and Kyoko and I noticed she was gone for too long.”

“How’d you know to come to the pyramid?” Zipper asked.

“Your friend over there was livestreaming the rescue over the Hypernet. I was the only viewer.”

All eyes turned to Sue. She gave a sheepish grin, tilted her head, and knocked her temple with her knuckles. “Bleh…”

“I said a lot of crap about you,” admitted Kaede to Zipper. “But saving someone makes you A-Okay in my book. Maybe I was taking this Do-Nothing stuff too seriously.”

Zipper smiled. “It’s alright, chum. I met some people who don’t take the Do-Nothing stuff seriously at all. Maybe we oughta find some happy middle.”

Right on cue, beyond several Solar Sails, a few comets flew overhead. Zipper smiled at the sight, rested her hands on the railings, feeling quite content. I guess I never needed to prove myself to Kaede at all. Just doing what’s right is purpose enough sometimes. And with your friends there with you, you can do anything, dig?

A screaming came across the sky.

The comets began their descent towards their city, revealing their true nature as rockets. The city’s orbital defense systems, dormant for centuries, slowly whirred to life. A laser zapped one of the rockets, but the rest made it through. The lead missile struck a golden tower downtown.

“Why, that’s the broadcaster tower where Lawrence is being interviewed!” Zipper realized. Her companions stood in shock.

Smoke rose from the missile impact, scarring the skyscraper. Red and orange now flooded the building; Zipper thought it was fire at first, only to realize its true nature: paint. Several more rockets struck Tokyo, the resulting shockwaves enough to make the city rumble and tremble. Trees rustled in the park; birds squawked and flew off in fear.

Zipper gazed at the rising smoke. “Just wha-”

Sue projected a livestream with her Eye-Implant so everyone could see. A grim figure dressed in a black duster and silver armor sat behind a desk, a flag bearing his sigil of a black stag across a flaming red planet behind him.

“Attention, citizens of Humanity,” began Stanislav Kajanas, fingers tented. “I have repeatedly requested that President Vice-President and the Human Congress punish Amadeus Lawrence for his sudden and deliberate attack on Ramble Station and reign in his unregulated, corrupt, galaxy-spanning destruction. My requests have gone unanswered. Lawrence’s cronies dominate Earth politics and have shielded him from justice. Therefore, I have delivered my own.”

Sirens began to blare across the city. 

“Mars has just concluded its attack on Neo-Neon Tokyo. We have only struck legitimate military targets. Paint-balloon-rockets have delivered our justice upon a propaganda broadcaster, pie factories, and strawberry depots. Outside of Lawrence himself, only robots were inside these locations.”

His voice rose. “Amadeus Lawrence, you have twenty-four hours to concede. Should you not resign your position by then, we shall launch a second round of strikes. Your cronies and bureaucratic shields can’t protect you forever. The Martian people are with me. I encourage all Earthlings to stand by me as well.”

Kajanas narrowed his eyes. “Lawrence. This all began at the sultan’s palace decades ago, and I intend to end it now. Alea iacta est. Good night all.”

The livestream ended. Nobody spoke for a long while. Zipper tried to recall old stories of The Big War, but it was so long ago that all the stories now took on a heroic shade. The city before her, gripped with the rising tide of fear, didn’t seem all that heroic.

“What’s that mean?” Zipper asked.

“The die has been cast,” Kaede answered, deep in thought. “The point of no return.”

“I meant sultan…but I ‘spose he’s right about that…no going back now, gee whiz.”