Chapter 1.2

Kanna Samukawa had shaken the city awake from an all too convenient lull, a daydream that believed the arrival of the Egregore would amount to little more than a lavish festival or a Christmas parade.

The scenery outside the prefectural police headquarters whirled with noise. Rows of makeshift government tents swarmed the parking lot. Their awnings flapped beneath violent gusts kicked up by helicopters landing and taking off on nearby cordoned streets. Teams dressed in a hive of orange, blue, and yellow vests loaded crates onto trucks bearing the Samukawa name.

“What’s going on?” Reiko yelled.

“Phase One,” Kanna shouted over spinning rotary blades. “The Prime Minister’s given myself and the municipal government full authority on a citywide response plan. It’s the least they could do given we only have less than a week to prepare.”

“Mrs. Polar Bear!” waved a truck driver with crooked teeth and a stack of parcels. “Buncha officers dropped this off. Didn’t even tell me where these were going!”

“This half,” Kanna glanced over the parcels. “This goes to the forward operating center in Odori Park. For this other batch, can you talk to the Land Ministry representative at the south tent over there? And make sure you ask next time if they don’t tell you where to go.”

“Director Samukawa!”

Kanna about faced before the driver could finish a sloppy salute and received a walking suit wearing a clunky construction hat.

“I’m Sakamoto, the liaison from Hokkaido Electric Power Company,” the suit reached for her hand. “We’ve finished estimating the blackout models for Chuo and Toyohira Ward.”

“That’s two out of ten wards, Mr. Sakamoto, work faster. Have the HEPCO results in Sachiko’s hand within the hour,” Kanna snapped. “Where are we on power reliance?”

“M’am!” the suit straightened. “We’ve already islanded city hall and the local hospitals. Their generators should be enough to cover some of Chuo Ward and the residentials around Odori. Toyohira Ward is set to receive power from the campus microgrid, but Shiroishi and Nishi Ward are too far away, so we’ve asked the JSDF to supply mobile lithium ion generators from Honshu.”

“Coordinate with the Crisis Management Bureau and the local garrison,” Kanna gestured to one of the nearby tents. “Remember, every supply kit to every family receives radios, battery banks, and gas for their portable stoves. Do you understand?”

“You’re expecting power loss?” Reiko asked. “You mean when we’re shifted out of The Now?”

“Sapporo receives almost ninety percent of its power from outside the city,” Kanna nodded. “All its hydroelectric and thermal plants, the wind farms, these are all in rural Hokkaido and along the coast.”

“What about nuclear?”

“Even if we turned the Tomari facility on, which the Prime Minister hasn’t approved, it’s over sixty kilometers outside the city,” Kanna replied. “The projections indicate that the imaginarium density is going to encompass Sapporo’s ten wards but nothing beyond it. I’d love to ask the Egregore to include the city’s power infrastructure among their festivities, but something tells me they aren’t enlightened on how electricity grids work.”

“Wait, this isn’t a new problem,” Reiko frowned. “When the Egregore held tea parties in Bern, or when we were in Frankfurt, the governments there deployed the local mages to restore critical infrastructure when their cities became temporarily disconnected. I know this time is more serious, but the Safety Commission has plenty of mages capable–”

“Yes, and I don’t intend to use any of them.”

“What?”

“I’ll be honest, Captain Nakamura,” Kanna sighed. “If it were up to me, I wouldn’t even include you or your team at all, but the Cabinet insisted on Section Eight handling security, and so I intend on involving you insofar as it keeps them happy.”

“...You're not fond of mages?”

“I’m not fond of magic,” Kanna shrugged. “It’s not personal, but the sooner the people of Sapporo take to my way of thinking, the better off they’ll be.”

“You’re not concerned about angering the NPSC’s people?”

“You kidding?” Kanna grinned. “The Commission gets a front row seat to observe the tea party's newest Mystery. They don’t have to work for it, and they’re supposed to feel pissed off about it?”

“...Fair point.”

Everywhere they walked, people recognized Kanna Samukawa and approached. Amidst the hurricane, she was the eye of the storm.

“If you’re having trouble procuring more rations, don’t worry, Samukawa Group will cover the difference.”

“I’m not happy about the way these J-Alerts read, superintendent. You’re gonna frighten people out of their homes. Calmer tone. Drop the superlatives. Necessary details only.”

“Let me repeat myself. Namboku Line’s the corridor for emergency crews, while Tozai and Toho shift to limited service. I don’t want any private vehicles south of Sapporo Station. Everyone is encouraged to use the municipal buses.”

“Is he the one still giving you trouble, Mrs. Hanamura? Have him call Sachiko. She knows his ex-wife. She’ll sort it out for you, please don’t worry.”

“Keep up the good work. Sapporo’s relying on you.”

“You seem awfully prepared for all this,” Reiko observed.

“I promise you, I didn’t come up with all of this,” Kanna chuckled. “Fortunately, we trained for this exact scenario ten years ago.”

“When the Egregore first suggested coming to Japan,” Reiko folded her arms.

“That’s right,” Kanna replied. “An interior minister I know dusted off some old training manuals. Back then, they prepared for the Egregore to arrive in Tokyo. That would have been difficult. Far more people, and the city’s so brittle, it’s no wonder why Tokyo’s in so many disaster films. But Sapporo’s different. It’s a grid city with predictable zoning, more straight, uniform roads, and the people here have strong roots.”

“You grew up here?” Reiko asked.

Kanna smiled.

“My ancestors grew up here. Come. Walk with me, captain.”

Kanna led Reiko south. They walked through streets jammed with police convoys carrying emergency rations, through Odori Park which had been emptied of civilian life and replaced with stiff tarp tents and mobile kitchens.

The loudspeakers mounted across Central Sapporo began their rhythmic chimes, followed by announcements regarding a new municipal bus schedule and a formal request to avoid driving in South Sapporo.

They walked until they reached the park by the Toyohira River, then walked further inwards until they arrived at a crystal clear pond. Here, the noise of honking trucks and clamoring bureaucrats subsided.

Up ahead, a small group, mostly elderly locals, gathered by the pond. A radio sitting on a blanket played the drifting notes of an erhu, while the group moved in uneven synchrony to bend their bodies to the flow of the pond. One of them, an old man, perhaps the oldest but most active participant, noticed Kanna approaching from the north.

“Look!” he said. “It’s Doctor Samukawa!”

The group dropped their routine and hurried to meet her, pushing Reiko out of the way.

“It’s so nice to see you, doctor,” one said. “It’s been too long.”

“You have to come see us more often, Dr. Polar Bear! Look. Look at me. My back is starting to ache again!”

“Doctor, my husband picked these most wonderful persimmons. Please let me give you a basket before you leave!”

“I’m very grateful,” Kanna smiled. “But I’m just here to say you should all consider staying at home with your families this next week. I know how much you all love this park, but… a storm is coming, and I don’t want you getting hurt.”

“Like a typhoon?” one of them asked. “It’s not the season for it, doctor.”

“It’s an unusual storm,” Kanna nodded. “Your sons and daughters might know more. They can tell you more about it. They’ll be at home too. I promise to come around more often if you do as I say.”

“When you put it that way!” one of them laughed. “Then we have no choice but to stay home, isn’t that true, everyone?”

“You’re quite popular everywhere,” Reiko said once the group left.

“Before I became a businesswoman, I was a doctor,” Kanna explained. “People tend to be grateful when you’ve prolonged their lives.”

“A doctor?” Reiko mused. “Hmm.”

“I know what you’re thinking, but Samukawa Group was born out of that same desire,” Kanna said. “I wanted to save even more people than I could when I was running my practice.”

“And you think Sapporo needs saving right now.”

“I do. These are the times where people need their government the most, captain,” Kanna replied. “The Prime Minister, his Cabinet, the Diet. They see Sapporo and they see seven trillion yen. They think to themselves, that’s barely a percent of the country’s GDP. How could the two million people of Sapporo matter when they can curry favors with powerful beings? Would they sacrifice us, even, to assuage an Egregore’s desire?”

“It’s hard to believe you’re serious about this,” Reiko said, “when you won’t arrange the mages at the NPSC to help you, when you won’t tell me why we’re here.”

"I may not love magic, captain, but if I despised it that much, we wouldn’t be talking,” Kanna said. “I have my reasons. You have your orders; the orders are to provide security for the duration of this tea party.”

“I’m just here to remind you who you should be providing that security for.”