It's So Xyover

It’s an even colder winter day in Tokyo—even in the heart of the city. The Harajuku fashionistas walk the streets in bulky coats. In Akihabara, business continues outside thanks to portable Xyrite heaters. Overstressed salarymen rush past Shinjuku Station, desperate to get back indoors where it’s warm.

On the outskirts of the city, the streets are covered in snow, hiding their cracks and imperfections. Everyone’s holed up in their houses, bundled in layers of blankets. But, surprisingly, there’s no wind, not even a gentle breeze.

“This is pointless,” I mutter to myself. “With all this snow on the ground, there’s no point in using stealth mode, and since I’m the only one out here, the target will see me coming from a kilometer away.”

“Don’t give up, Big Bro,” Chiyo’s voice comes from a radio in my helmet. “Ms. Saionji’s been on a roll lately. If you don’t start showing results, everyone’s gonna say she’s the new number one.”

“Yeah, yeah, thanks, Sis.”

“Go get ‘em, Big Bro,” a hundred Chiyos respond in unison.

I won’t lie; dealing with hundreds of little sisters vying for your attention is exhausting, especially when they each have their own personalities. I’ve had to learn what to say to please the clingy Chiyo while not pissing off the Chiyo who gets jealous at the drop of a hat. And don’t get me started on the Chiyo who acts like she’s too mature to be doted on and berates the other Chiyos for it, but secretly lives for my head pats.

All of them are living in a complex owned by The Hosokawa-Fujisaki Group. It took a lot of begging to convince Ryuuzaki not to destroy them, but in the end, they all graduated summa cum laude, and he had to admit they’d make excellent employees. He put half of them to work researching ways to counteract global cooling, and they’ve come up with a crazy idea involving releasing carbon dioxide into the atmosphere to trap the reflected heat in. The other half are researching ways to remotely disrupt and shut down Xyrite brains. Kind of gruesome to think that they’re inventing weapons to be used against their own kind.

A few of them even helped to negotiate peace with the Americans. There will be no war, at least for now. Instead, our two countries will collaborate on extracting rare earth minerals from the seabed. Neither will profit as much as they could if they had the entire deposit to themselves, but the Chiyos were able to show that, when you factor in how much a war would cost, both sides are better off cooperating.

It’s a big shift in foreign policy, but who knows, maybe if it works out, other countries will follow suit. We might never be able to completely eliminate war, but it would be nice if there was a lot less of it.

I’m pulled from my daydreams of a more peaceful world by the sound of another motorcycle, and Saionji races past me. “You snooze, you lose,” she shouts. A few blocks ahead, I see a man jumping over a hedge, probably the target.

With all the ice on the road, I don’t speed up. Saionji’s more likely to spin out when she tries to stop, and then I can scoop up the target while she’s down. To my surprise, she jumps off her still-moving bike and tackles him to the ground. A moment later, she lets out a frustrated grunt and tosses him high into the air. It’s a nearly weightless projection. They’ve been getting more common lately. Despite Ryuuzaki’s best attempts, the tech has been leaking out.

Chuckling at the scene, I activate my sonar in time to see the real target running toward me, using Saionji’s tire tracks to cover his footsteps. Smart, but not smart enough. I slow my bike and grab him. His civilian power suit is no match for mine, and I wrestle him to the ground and handcuff him in short order.

Saionji comes running over to us, her green power suit covered in snow. “Hey, he was mine.”

I smile. “You snooze, you lose.”

“Ugh, fine. Wanna split the bounty? You wouldn’t have caught him if I hadn’t fallen for the distraction.”

“Ha! I wouldn’t fall for such a simple trick. Besides, I’m not naive enough to give up half my paycheck, even if you had helped.” Pulling the target to his feet, I pull off his implants, shutting down his stealth field.

“Oh come on. You could at least buy me dinner,” Saionji pouts.

Did she just ask me on a date? A hundred Chiyo voices protest in unison. “Get away from my Big Bro!” “Don’t fall for it, Big Bro. Remember how small her butt is.” “She just wants a free meal.” “Don’t make me call her Big Sis!”

I ignore the voices and flash her what I hope is a winning smile. “Sure. Pick you up at seven?”

She blushes, perhaps realizing for the first time what she just got herself into. “Wear something nice.”

Huh, I expected her to back out. Do I really have a chance with her?

“Sure, if you wear something that isn’t green.”

She stomps her foot in the snow, kicking up more powder. “You know what? Forget it. I don’t know what came over me. You’re such a jerk. Only your own family could like you.”

It stings when the chorus of Chiyos in my ear agrees with her, but I have to laugh it off. I might have just blown it this time, but it feels pretty darn great to learn that Saionji is at least interested enough in me to invite me out. I’ll try inviting her next time.

Maybe the world isn’t such a bad place after all.

THE END