The 8th Daimyo

It was a small chamber in the traditional imperial court style, like something from the Meiji period. A short, overweight man in a violet robe looked around, examining his surroundings with a look of disdain. His bald head shone in the hidden lighting.

He pushed against one of the pale walls. ‘These beams strong enough?’ He was leaning back and forth.

‘They are fine.’ Said an elderly man in a tall Kanmuri sitting at the head of the low table which filled the room.

‘You’ve been trying to find something to displease you since you arrived, Daiko. Why don’t you sit down?’ The voice belonged to a woman in a red silk headdress ornamented with gold.

She turned to the man at the head of the table. ‘Why is it you always dress so officially, Elder Tomori?’ Her eyes flashed scarlet and violet as they moved about the room. Her hand caressed one of the sheer curtains, through which you could see the flames of floating lanterns on the artificial lake that had only ten minutes ago been the view from the 23,000th floor of Nakatari Plaza. In the distance the tops of skyscrapers rose from it, like the the ruins of a sunken city.

‘Yes, and why is it that we are here? I said at the time I—I don’t see—I mean, what is the—-.’ This, a thin bearded man in green wearing old fashioned circular spectacles. His voice stumbled over his words.

‘Good grief Minister, spit it out, if you have a complaint.’ A moustachioed man in holo-shielded ceremonial samurai armour slammed down his drink.

The Minister adjusted his glasses. ‘Well—that’s not to say a complaint exactly, General—‘

‘I thought we had decided on it when we spoke...’ Elder Tomori’s weary voice drew out the words.

‘It is the place we agreed.’ A deep voice from the shadows at the back of the room cut through. The figure from which it issued was tall, a male with broad shoulders in what looked like a grey business coat.

‘D’Argon’s right.’ At the opposite end of the table to the elder, a small girl sat, her feet raised above the floor by her seat. She was no more than seven years old in appearance yet with a countenance expressionless enough to lend many times that figure to the soul residing within. Her hair was pulled tight and pitch black, and her skin so perfect, with two blue holographic circles on the cheeks that she gave the impression of a living doll. ‘If you want to waste time arguing over what’s already been decided, Tokyo74 will withdraw its interests now.’

The momentary tension was broken by Daiko, the bald man. ‘So where is he then, our new member? He is newest to the group and yet we all wait on his appearance as though his servants.’ He took a grape from the gold plate held by a suit of armour at the edge of the room.

‘A little patience…’ said the Elder. A faint smile arose on his face. ‘He is as you say, new. Can we not all have claimed this once?’

‘Some longer ago than others.’ The scarlet eyed woman lifted her glass, her lips sinking into the red liquid within.

There was a muffled noise from the back of the room. The double doors burst open and a young blonde man strode in, a gust of wind disturbing the curtains and robes of all in attendance before falling away. He pulled off his rain speckled jacket.

‘Sorry, I’m sorry.’ He ran a hand over his tousled hair and looked up. ‘Oh. Were we worried supposed to wear our ceremonial outfits? I have one in the—‘

The scarlet eyed woman’s eye widened and a smile spread across her face. Opposite her, the General made a scoffing noise.

‘No, no!—’ The Elder raised his hand, his eyes closed. When he opened them a slow, controlled smile had appeared on his face and his tone softened. ‘—It is not important. Please, sit.’ He was gesturing to an unoccupied seat beside him.

The young man sat, nodding around the table as the others joined the group. The woman was still chuckling.

‘Now that we’re all here—‘ Elder Tomori began. The General scoffed once more.

He continued. ‘Perhaps we should discuss why it is that we have all gathered here today.’

The young man took a drink that was being offered by one of the suits of armour, apparently alive. He bowed his head as the servant stepped back.

‘No need to thank it.’ Said Daiko, his own glass in his hand. ‘Just an automata.’

The young man looked up and saw two dots of light in the dark cavity within the servant’s helmet. After a moment, he turned back to the Elder. ‘So you are the head of the group?’

The Elder winced as though he’d been struck by a small object in a breeze, then the smile returned to his face. ‘No.. no! Not at all. Good heavens.’ He laughed, his face slightly flushed.

Daiko and the scarlet eyed woman exchanged glances, the flames from the lake twinkling in their eyes.

The Elder’s voice grew in sonority and he faced the table spreading his hands. ‘I am merely here to facilitate dialogue between our nations.’

‘And the elevation of Tokyo27’s profile…’ this, the General.

The scarlet eyed woman raised her glass in toast.

The Elder again continued, ‘—and to provide a forum for that.’ After a moment, he turned to the General and bowed his head. ‘But you are quite right, Otoshi. You have all been much put out by the journey to our little country.’

The General nodded, making a slight grunt of assent.

He addressed the table again. ‘I believe we have, all of us of late, encountered unforeseen problems in the primary businesses of our respective nations.’ He turned to the bald man. ‘Daiko your usual yield in luxury materials has fallen substantially,’ then to the woman beside him, ‘Electress Atala, the entertainment district of Tokyo13 has not wavered.’

The scarlet eyed woman nodded courteously.

‘—but there are whispers about shortages in your distribution chains… and d’Argon,’ he looked now at the large man in business attire at the end of the table. ‘Forgive me but I believe it is the same with these rumours regarding power shortages in your mining operations.’

‘I believe it is not too much to say that the fact that these… anomalies… have arisen at the same time is unlikely to be coincidence. In fact,’ he raised a hand to stop the General’s objection, ‘—the speciality of my own small nation has yielded information that these are more than likely the faces of one singular entity.’

‘You seem to know a lot about all of our interests.’ Electress Atala drank from her glass.

The Elder now raised both of his palms. ‘Please. All of us here know more about each other’s operations than the Treaty allows.’

The faces around the table looked sheepish but no argument came.

The bearded Minister was first to speak, again adjusting his glasses. ‘Well, we for one have not experienced any issues in our data crops.’

‘Ah.’ The General set down his glass. ‘We have heard your numbers are the same as ever… it is a shame that all the chips are rotten.’

At this, the Minister looked down and hushed laughter passed around the room.

Daiko now spoke. ‘But General is it not true that your own forces have been somewhat depleted of late?’ His tone lilted playfully.

‘Fanciful nonsense!’ Barked the General. ‘Probably dreamt up by the gossip holos that pass for news in your country.’ He folded his arms and looked to the side.

Daiko seemed somewhat pleased with the response he had drawn.

The Elder again raised both his palms. ‘Now, now. Let us not argue. We all have our own private interests but this…’ he looked at the General, ‘—spread of rumours is affecting business. In this, we are all the same.’

At this, grunts and murmurs of acquiescence passed around the table.

‘What we need is more information.’ He paused, allowing the comment to absorb into the silence. ‘Now, the behavioural-meteorology division of Tokyo27 has pulled up a single signature that matches the changes being seen in all our territories. A signature belonging to an as yet unconfirmed entity.’

There was silence around the room.

‘Let’s not piss around.’ It was Electress Atala. ‘Has everyone else seen these new black ones? That is, after all, why we are here, is it not?’

Again a quiet permeated the room, the only sounds the clinking of glasses being lifted or set down.

‘Very well, I will begin.’ D’Argon spoke from the far end of the table.

‘Oooh, the Councillor is bold.’ Said Daiko, sipping from his glass.

D’Argon continued, as if he had not heard the comment. ‘The General before stated that rumours of a shortfall in his forces are baseless.’ He looked to the General. ‘I am sorry, General—please allow me to continue with this.’

The General nodded.

‘Tokyo 4’s data mills are officially also running without interruption.’ He had the attention of the table. ‘However, in the interests of expedience, I would like to put forward that there have been 246 confirmed reports of… anomalous entities having entered our city.’

He waited as a little noise rose from around the room, the members shuffling in their seats or fiddling with their glasses.

‘Now, this is not the same as the previous light-tunnels discovered in the trafficking scandals. These creatures do not register on any known topological engram. In short, they are indetectable as lifeforms or phenomena of any type.’

All faces in the room now stared at d’Argon. The Information State’s expertise in this area was unquestioned.

‘And yet they have been observed.’ Said the General.

D’Argon nodded. ‘Just black figures. Humanoid in appearance.’

Daiko spoke. ‘And able to move at will through the structures of the world?’

Again d’Argon nodded. ‘And as yet, no clear intent, hostile or otherwise.’

A slight easing of tension had begun to enter into the room.

‘Can we say then that no one here will dispute it if I propose that all of our nations have in one way or another encountered these ‘black ones’, as the Electress put it?’ Elder Tomori’s question was met with murmurs around the table.

‘I still don’t see why we had to make this meeting public.’ It was bespectacled Minister who had spoken.

‘Because if we didn’t, the media would get wind of it anyway and wonder what might be serious enough to bring about the first meeting of the council in two centuries. This way we can say it’s in aid of whatever we like— the young one’s inauguration is a convenient smokescreen.’ The General looked at the young blonde man to whom he had gestured. ‘No offence intended.’

‘No, no, none taken—‘ said the young man between mouthfuls of the meal that was laid before him. No one else had touched theirs. ‘These,’ he pointed at some glutinous brown things on his plate, ‘are AMAZING. What is it—chicken?’

Electress Atala’s eyes lit up, a broad smile across her face. ‘Perhaps,’ she said, ‘the new Daimyo has some experience to share with us.’

The young man gestured to himself. ‘What, me? I—I mean, I watch the news but it’s mainly to check the V-Ball.’ He laughed.

The Elder smiled at him. ‘Come now, Atala, there’s no need for—’

‘I—errr—there is something.‘

The faces around the table turned to look at their newest member. The Elder looked surprised. ‘Yes? Speak, please, if you have some information.’

‘Well,’ he scratched his head and laughed again, his eyes narrowing like little crescent moons. ‘I mean. These new ones,’ he looked nervously at the General who was regarding him gravely, ‘—‘ black ones’, whatever. I mean, it seems to me it doesn’t really make any difference if they’re real or not.’

Beyond the curtains, the shadow of a figure moved across a wood pier on the lake, two dots of light marking its head. It crouched and placed cubes of wood on one of the lanterns outside. The wind howled and the tiny flame guttered.

The Elder now wore a puzzled expresson. ‘It doesn’t matter?’

‘I mean.. our cities are only half real anyway, right? Like islands floating in light.’ He looked around the table.

‘But that doesn’t matter. What matters is they feel real to us. We can touch them whether that’s because they exist or we don’t—none of that means anything anymore since conversion.’ He dabbed at the corners of his mouth with a napkin.

‘So whether these things are really here or not, all that matters is whether or not the public read about them. If it’s in the holos, it’s real.’ The young man set his napkin down beside his plate.

After a few seconds, high pitched laughter arose in the room. Electress Atala was leaning back in her chair. ‘The 8th Daimyo is wise, after all!’

The young man blushed and looked into his lap.

Daiko too was grinning broadly. ‘He is certainly quicker than some of us.’ He was looking toward the Minister.

The General looked at the doll-like young girl at the far end of the table. ‘You have more knowledge of deep-light than the rest of us, Malbrette. Have your scanners picked up anything?’

The girl remained expressionless. ‘No events of note.’ She paused. ‘We have had losses though.’

‘Ah, but not willing to tell us how many…’ Daiko waved a chicken leg on which he’d set.

‘Nothing serious at the moment,’ she said. ‘But some of the readings from our deeper set stations have been compromised.’

The Elder nodded, his hands pressed together on the table. ‘I don’t think it’s a debate anymore. There is a pattern.’

‘A pattern?’ The General spoke gruffly.

‘A singular phenomena.’

The Minister now laughed. ‘A phenomena large enough to affect all of our territories? An entity of that size could never maintain its integrity. It would be overcome within nanoseconds of—‘

‘A meteorological entity, no.’ Said the Elder. ‘But… a biological one…’

The room fell silent.

Outside, the lantern that the servant had earlier stoked fluttered violently, as though its flame were a piece of clothing that the wind was attempting to tear from it. For a moment it threatened to go out but it was too late, the fire had already taken hold.