Capt Bui Presents

Missy | Sept 6, 1998 | 08:23 ICT | St. Paul du Chartres Convent: St. Paul’s Hospital (10.784337577790291, 106.70617883076153) | District 1

“Konbanwa, Saigon!”

“I’m Ito Yunafune.”

“And I’m Mariko Nakimura.”

“And it is 10 PM, September 6, 1998. And what a day it has been!”

“I know most of you have been feeling a little under the weather after the incidents of the night before, but it’s good to say that Saigon is finally ready to put it all behind us for a better day.”

The audience clapped softly and politely, as though not to cheer too loudly.

The man with the smile and glowing crimson eyes leaned into the camera. The woman across from him nodded.

“A new day, and another one closer to the end of it all.”

The crowd cheered.

“That’s right, and I know I can’t wait. But let’s review the news. Mariko, any witnesses about the world news today?”

“Well, Ito, there should have been a witness before the most sacred city. But the City of David is a tomb of the faithless and a brothel of Nephilheim. The wall has no tears to shed. None are left to preach, and none are left to listen.”

“Well, I guess that must be a shame.”

“Yes. I suppose those words will fall upon deaf ears.”

“As for politics, it seems those Americans are up for another midterm election.”

“That’s right, Ito! The competition is amping up as the Party of Molech and the Party of Mammon debate the best path to lead the Ten Nations.”

“Well, whatever path they choose, we will all wind up going to the same place, am I right?”

The audience laughed as Hail to the Chief played on a shamisen.

“Indeed. And now, let’s have Yumi with our upcoming forecast.”

A young woman with large breasts and a short skirt smiled before a screen covered in large sigils.

“Thanks, Ito. Well, as the forces of darkness move out from the west and the eastern sun fails to give off its light, we will see a tide of blood moving across the River Saigon as it fills with the screams of the damned all around us. Forecasts say the tide is coming. Justice will be heard, and all those seeking vengeance will find it.”

“Well, sounds like they’re going to have a busy day. Thank you. And market news today?”

“The reapers of avarice collect their grains as the souls below cry out to heaven in anguish. Rallies today as heaven hears their cries. The competition between Mammon and Molech will continue as the tides of darkness escalate across the lands.”

“Well, sounds like a good time to buy for me. And I think that’s all before our special guest, unless…”

Suddenly, a dancing Mitsuki Haiku appeared on the TV, playing her theme song. The crowd’s clapping rose to a fever pitch.

“Konbanwa, Haiku-chan!” both newscasters said with wide grins.

The girl in the kogal costume, pigtails, and crimson eyes bowed.

“Konbanwa! I wrote a new song. Would you like to hear it?”

“Well everyone, what do you think? Would you like to hear Mitsuki Haiku’s new song?”

The crowd roared into cheers and chants.

The newscasters stepped aside as the Haiku struck a pose. Loud bubblegum synth began to play as she broke into a dance. The performers and talking heads nodded and clapped along, smiling widely.

Babylon’s whore, she is taking the stage
Before the Lords of the World
Her gems she parades
With no shepherd here

The hour is nigh as the armies draw near

“We will be right back, ladies and gentlemen. This moment of damnation is brought to you by the Saito Corporation!”

“Arigatō, Saito.” The crowd cheers in unison.

The newscasters continued their nods and smiles beneath the hum of the CRT.

Captain Bui stepped in front of the television and looked at his two captives, Anh and Kente. The TV hung on a metal arm of the old hospital. Outside, the city’s light was blocked, and the French brickwork did its best to muffle the noise.

"This was broadcasted last night, thanks to your friend Maria Cannon. The western press is calling it 'Mass Psychosis' due to a 'Mass Noospheric Destabilization Event.' Oh those wily Anglos and their silly word games."

Both stared blankly ahead, faces slack with exhaustion, hands raised where IV saline dripped into them. Their eyes were lidless and sunken. They glanced only briefly at one another, faces frozen as they struggled to find the energy to move.

“Well. I hope Saint Paul is happy,” Captain Bui said. “I know he wished for more men to speak of prophecy than of tongues.”

He froze the image. The words Mene, Tekel, Peres glowed in blue and green bubble letters.

“Though I admit, I am not quite sure this is how he would have requested it." After he made the joke, he did not seem amused. He spoke as though he were genuinely pondering the issue.

Kente struggled to speak. Captain Bui raised a hand and gently tapped at Kente's hand to silent him.

“Now, now, Mr. Watanabe. You are suffering from clinical exhaustion. Save your strength. I have no interest in intimidating or interrogating you. Save the excuses, the demands, and the lawyers for later. The evidence speaks for itself.”

“And to be frank, the Archbishop has no interest in what you have to say. Neither do I.”

“What matters is this. You, a Holy Indochinese citizen, were found in a warehouse known to be a staging location for the perpetrators of a terrorist attack, alongside a Yugoslav foreign national with known ties to the Soviet Union.”

“We also have record of an American citizen speaking to you, who claims prior contact at the airport. Coincidence or not, you were there. They were there. At the same time. In the same room. And we have proof.”

“That is all the Archbishop needs to show the Japanese public. As far as the Patriarch is concerned, it is enough.”

“Oh, and do not worry. It appears no one was truly harmed. Many were rattled, but most benefited from the blackout during the riots. Consider yourself fortunate.”

At that moment, a Saito Corporation lawyer burst through the door.

“Captain Bui, I formally request, under treaty law, that you return our employees. You have held them for the agreed thirty minutes.”

One of Bui’s lieutenants snapped.

“You bastards think you own this city. After everything you’ve done!”

“Sergeant,” Captain Bui said quietly.

The warning barely restrained him.

“If Japan wants him, they can collect him from the ruins of their treaties.”

“Now, now, Sergeant Cristobal,” Bui said calmly. “We have what we need. Return them.”

The lawyer lifted Anh first. Captain Bui slipped a small card into her hand and spoke in Vietnamese.

“I know you may not want to read this now. That is fine. But think about where your loyalties lie. Where this company has led you. What cost its rewards demanded.”

Anh met his eyes for the first time. Her face softened, but only a hoarse groan escaped before she slumped back, spent.

“When you are ready to think, your people will welcome you.”

Captain Bui turned to Kente.

“As for you, my friend, I suppose I should thank you.”

Anh emitted a sound between laughter and a wail. Kente only looked up.

“You have incriminated yourself, yes. But you have also led us to terrorists and hostile actors.”

He slapped Kente’s back, nearly choking him.

“You have provided proof of foreign interference. So please congratulate me on my promotion. I will assume command of the Saigon Autonomous Zone on the Feast of the Blessed Mother.”

“You have two days to find your scalp.”

He leaned closer.

“And if you miss your flight, you will be my guest near the Tây Nguyên. Plenty of good bauxite.”

He dropped the Mitsuki Haiku unit into Kente’s lap.

“Your colleague is loyal. She was made to see reason.”

The damaged machine spoke softly.

“Watanabe-sama. I’m sorry.”