The Real Thing, Page 2

  “I can't believe you're actually single,” he said to her, mirroring her body language in an attempt to connect with her.

  “I've been very disappointed with the calibre of men in this town,” she said. She was watching him curiously, as if ready to leave at any minute. Perhaps the location had been a bad decision in some ways; the journey through the underbelly of the city had obviously put her on edge. It was better that they could meet somewhere that she wouldn't be recognised though, because if a friend or colleague had spotted her then she no doubt would have introduced Roman to them, and even though he was going under an alias his face would then be known. He'd had reconstruction twice in the past and had no wish to go through with it again.

  “I'm not from this town,” said Roman. He noticed her legs were crossed tightly, indicating that she felt tense. He would have to be quick or risk losing both her and the opportunity for good. He was skilled at seduction but was no hypnotist. He'd run with something safe for a moment.

  “Would you like a drink?”

  “Just a water, please,” she replied, glancing around at the décor. Part of her was obviously wondering why she had come here and wanted it to be over as soon as possible, but he usually only needed a few minutes to connect with a mark. He buzzed through to the bar and asked for Luis to sort out a water. He'd know what to do. She looked over at him again.

  “So what exactly is it you do? You always avoided saying on the net,” she asked, pursing her lips. She wanted control of this conversation, and if it meant she would stay longer then he was happy to give it to her.

  “I work freelance mainly, usually as a go between for businesses, or simply spotting opportunities. I travel extensively. It's exhausting, but the rewards are great,” he said, trying to keep his answers as vague and open to interpretation as possible. The truth was that his main business was fixing other people's problems, often at the expense of other people, a hard job to fit within any moral framework but he had long ago accepted the fact that if there was really a Hell somewhere, then there was a place reserved in its hottest pits for him. He hoped it would be hot enough to boil coffee. “Do you travel?”

  “Here and there. I just got back from Brazil a few hours ago actually. There's an acquisition I need to make before I head back.”

  She was blinking repeatedly as she talked, and glancing up and right, a sign that she was remembering visual images. It was as if she was only just waking up and her dreams were bleeding into her thoughts. Jet lag. He'd experienced it enough to recognise when someone's body was battling with their mind.

  “I should have cancelled, I'm in no mood for this. I'm sorry, I know it's not fair,” she said quietly, and seemingly honestly. He looked again, really looked at her features, sharply tinted in the multi-coloured lights of the booth. She was tired certainly, but there was something else. She was dealing with something that looked to be overwhelming her. Years of dealing with people and their emotions – both naturally and chemically – had given him certain insights. He looked down at the coffee. A swirling whirlpool of froth span gently on the surface of the dark liquid. Curiosity started to burn within him. There was something here.

  He sighed.

  “I'm sorry to hear that. Would you like some coffee? I've only had a sip. It might pick you up a bit.”

  She thought for a moment before nodding. He slid the beverage over to her carefully, not wanting to spill a drop of it even though he was no longer drinking it. Her hand brushed his as she took it and he felt the warmth of her skin prickling against his. She picked up the cup and took a few tentative sips, wincing a little at the heat.

  “Nekojita...” said Roman, smiling.

  She looked up at him, confusion playing across her features. It was a charming sight. “Excuse me?” she asked, her demeanour a little less frosty than before.

  “Nekojita, it's Japanese for cat tongue... trouble with eating or drinking hot things. I'm the same,” he said. “I usually ask for half hot, half cold water when I order one, I guess I forgot this time.”

  “I've never had the time to pick up much of the language,” she said, reaching forwards and pressing the button to clear the doors, bringing back the dancers outside, all of whom were hitting a new level of frenzy. “Why exactly did you choose this place? You always said that this kind of scene was too much for you whenever we talked.”

  “A necessary evil,” he murmured, spotting Luis across the dance floor. The large man handed a glass of water to the barman and pointing towards him. Cupid was on his way.

  Roman's heart started to thump in his chest so vigorously that for a second he thought he was going to have a heart attack. He had done this more times than he could count over the years and with the notable and horrific exception of Sandrine it had always gone smoothly, but now as he thought of flipping Aarati's emotions like a switch it felt like dragging a knife across a painting. The magic would be gone.

  “Let's get out of here,” he said suddenly, the words pulling themselves free from his mouth almost without any volition on his part. Aarati seemed to sense a change in the air, drawing herself away from him again.

  “Why?” she asked, looking out and trying to spot what he was looking at.

  Roman started to stand, gently nudging her towards the door. “Let's get some air, go uptown, go anywhere. It’s just too much in here, isn't it?” He tried to keep his rising tension from his voice so he could retain some veneer of calm.

  “All right,” she said, smiling a little as she got up off the seat. Roman quickly pressed the door release and ushered her out across the dance floor, casting a glance through the moving bodies. He made brief eye contact with Luis, who was watching them leave with surprise and anger fighting for dominance on his scarred features. There would be a price to pay.

  The air around the harbour was crisper than in the centre of the city, as sea spray drove the pollution inland. His conversation with Aarati had been stilted initially but soon started to flow as they headed down past late night takoyaki stands towards a run of karaoke bars. The night life in this part of the city was a lot less intense and Roman found he could think more clearly.

  People whirled and span around them as they moved along the gaudy concourse. On most nights he would have found the crowds a hindrance but for some reason tonight he felt as if they were part of the experience, a maze to be navigated, bodies to be watched, avoided and admired.

  Part of him wondered why he had experienced such a change of heart but as he looked over at Aarati in the street lights he knew he had made the right decision. Something about her was intoxicating, and he hadn't felt this way since he had met his wife all those years ago. Truth be told, he couldn't be sure if he'd ever felt this strongly about a person before in his life.

  Everything she told him about herself was fascinating, intimate and another reason to keep walking. Luis would moan and most likely threaten violence at the way he had dealt with the situation, especially as the raw ingredients of Roman's concoctions were getting to be in very short supply and the Marketplace was far too expensive. Roman knew he needed another insider in ParCorp to start getting his supplies up, but it wouldn't be Aarati.

  “I still don't know why I came out tonight, but I'm glad I did,” said Aarati as they stood looking out at the colossal Cho-freighters manoeuvring slowly across the water, mobile towns many decks high that even carried small shopping centres for the boat workers to pass the time in between jobs. The red and white guidance lights created a blinking haze across the black waves of the harbour.

  Roman was suddenly at a loss for words, feeling his heart pounding in his chest again so fiercely that he couldn't believe that Aarati hadn't heard it beating against his rib cage. She looked towards him and quickly moved into his arms. He felt his face register only shock at the intimate contact and he responded by wrapping his arms around her, smelling the scent of her hair. She turned his face towards his, so close he could feel the radiating warmth of her skin, before she slipped out of
his arms and began walking away. After a few feet she turned back towards him and spoke a few soft words that he managed to hear over the roar of commerce that never slept.

  “I'll see you soon.”

  He didn't feel like facing the wrath of Luis so soon after such an amazing moment, so he headed back home, his head rocking back and forth in time with his own still pounding heart. The metro capsule slid along the maglev towards Sumiyoshi-ku, one of the quieter and more affluent areas of Techosaka where he'd settled with Idalia a few months back, managing to negotiate the lease on a large, well-appointed apartment overlooking the commercial district.

  Idalia... for a couple of hours he had forgotten her, those piercing eyes, that personality so intoxicating that he had stayed with her despite her open love of adultery. He forgave her every time, simply glad to be near her. The feeling that Aarati had given him was something new though, a feeling even deeper than his love for Idalia, a desperate sense that something was missing that he never knew he needed.

  The metro slowly came to a halt in the orange lit station of Tsurugaoka, which was decorated with the latest in synthetic trees and silicon vines and also here and there with genuine specimens, a luxury that was thankfully becoming more popular, as a world that had previously forgotten nature finally reached a point of romanticism that called for efforts to bring it back, not least for its benefits to the atmosphere. There was only so much that atmospheric scrubbers could do to the pollution.

  After a few minutes' walk he took the elevator up to their apartment, pulling off his jacket as he went as if it were strangling him. He somehow felt the need to hide this latest tryst from his wife despite the open nature of their arrangement, even though nothing had happened. Nothing physical at any rate.

  It was only as he was about to present his eye to the retinal scanner that acted as a security system for their home that he suddenly thought about the time. He flipped open his phone, finding three missed called from Luis. He hadn't even noticed the phone ringing. It was 4.32 am, so Idalia would no doubt be asleep. Time for the stealthy approach that had earned him his name.

  He presented his eye to the scanner. It ran a faint yellow light designed to cause zero discomfort across his face, before releasing the door lock with a gentle hiss. He slipped his shoes off immediately and placed them by the door before padding across the hallway and into the lounge.

  The red winking lights of a city that never slept or even slowed down glittered through the huge glass window that dominated the room. Roman carefully made his way across the hardwood floor towards an innocuous panel situated next to a large potted plant. The shrub had cost him a small fortune as it was said to only bloom once every twenty years. Quite why such a trait demanded a high price tag was beyond him but Idalia had wanted it, so he'd done his best to buy it and sneak it into the house under cover of darkness. She had loved it – naturally – but like most things it soon dropped off her radar and he was left to look after it. He used this particular item to his advantage as it helped to conceal a necessity of his business... his lab.

  He reached down behind the potted plant and placed his thumb into a knot of wood situated on one of the varnished beech planks on the floor. The small well-hidden fingerprint scanner read his whorls silently and the wall panel shifted back and across to reveal a small, artfully hidden room. The walls were brushed steel, cool and clinical in the fluorescent lighting that flared into life as he stepped inside. The door slid shut behind him noiselessly.

  For such a small room (especially compared to the facilities he had owned in Tokyo) he made good use of space, with shelves lining the sides of the chamber and a large desk with a clean and well maintained workstation on the far wall. Rows of liquids and powders dotted the shelves, all meticulously labelled and ordered ready for his concoctions. Pride of place was given over to a thick blue substance, part jelly and part liquid, which was stored in airtight clear plastic and foil packets in a small refrigeration unit under the desk. It was the foundation of his formulas, the part-hallucinogen, part gene-alteration solution known only as Mendel, named after Gregor Mendel, the father of genetics. In the richest sections of society it was used as an elite mind altering drug with long lasting effects and no noticeable side effects or addictive properties, producing a sense of unmatched bliss. ParCorp were still finding their feet as they experimented with its properties, but he had spotted its potential straight away, as soon as he had got his hands on some all those years ago.

  At the last count (according to Marketplace prices) the amount he had was worth roughly sixty four million Yen, and that was when his stores were starting to run low. That was why Aarati and her ability to access a supply of Mendel had been so important. If he had managed to get her on side then it would have set him up for the foreseeable future. As it was, he was going to have to pick and choose his jobs carefully until he could find an alternative. Two months of work, thrown away on a whim. He must be crazy.

  He reached over for the small tablet computer, little more than a paper thin square on a stand sitting on the surface of the desk, when his hand stopped. He looked down at the fridge, squinting at the contents. He crouched down and opened the door in a hiss of freezing air, running his hand over the tiny pouches.

  Most people could count in units of four on sight with any higher numbers requiring a quick calculation but Roman had always had the strange (and untold) strength of being able to count in units of up to twenty on sight. He had no idea where the talent had come from but he kept it a closely guarded secret. He had found it especially useful in espionage, where a few of his own glances held more power than minutes of scrutiny by others.

  He was missing a pouch.

  He flicked through them, counting quickly and accurately a second time, just in case the night with Aarati had dulled his senses. The count was the same. One down.

  The last time this had happened he had put it down to a miscount on collection, as it had been during the handover from Tokyo when he had smuggled the stuff across the country, hopping from bullet train to bullet train. He assumed he had simply left it behind, but maybe now, now...

  He looked over his shoulder towards the back of the panel that led into their flat. Had Idalia found his lab again? He hadn't told her he was building another after the loss of the one in Tokyo, but she was going to find out sooner or later, he supposed. It wasn’t that she didn’t know what he did, it was that he wanted to keep her as far out of his business it as possible, for her own sake. Maybe she had found a way to bypass the security. Had she taken it? If she had, there were two possibilities that he could see as being plausible. Either she had found it and was selling the substance for her own gain, or she was somehow using it.

  The second possibility was hard to believe, as Mendel was extraordinarily difficult to work with. It had little to no reactive properties, turning to vapour at a dramatically lower temperature than water. You had to know exactly when to use it and how to use it or it would be gone. Without the exact timings, temperatures and catalysts it could still produce a mild mind altering effect, but nothing compared to the perfect replication of intense love that he had concocted. Was she working with someone else? She was his wife. No matter her other faults they had always been as thick as thieves, with her strength being a knack of gaining the trust of new clients. She had always said she didn't mind what he did, as long as he gave her a life she deserved.

  Perhaps this was a good thing. Her reliance on him – though it gave him a feeling of power – had always sat awkwardly in his mind. Such a strong willed, tenacious woman shouldn't want to be an accessory to someone else’s life. She should need more. Maybe that was it, maybe she was finally making her own way.

  Roman smiled. Perhaps it was time to play a little game with Idalia. There was no need to give his position away quite yet. If he waited then the right moment would come when he could raise the issue. Until then, maybe he'd install a small, discreet security camera, just in case.

  He stood up and
reached for the tablet again. Time to get to work.

  He swiped his fingers across the screen in a quick pattern that would seem random to anyone observing him, but which he knew off by heart, as it was based on a complex series of calculations that changed each day based on the date and a new integer. The screen flashed into life, showing a simple patterned background and a dedicated message centre, the icon of which was pulsing red and white. He tapped the message and the audio began to play. It was always audio alone, never a picture. Medea, the elusive contact that Luis had set him up with back in Tokyo, continued to be a mystery. That was just fine by Roman; all that mattered to him was the quality of the jobs.

  The voice was robotic, layered with various scramble tones. “This job is simple but worth your time. A billionaire recluse by the name of Ozawa Yosuke has contacted us. Apparently he's the father of a starlet by the name of Kuri, a J-Rock phenomenon and spoilt brat from the sounds of it. Her husband-to-be is one Takahashi Haruba, a very successful businessman with a wealth built on stock speculation. He's apparently got what it takes in the bank department but in very few others, relationship skills included. Kuri apparently feels nothing for the man beyond a fascination with his finances. Ozawa Yosuke is apparently displeased with Kuri's choice as he would prefer she marry for love, but Kuri is set on the idea, knowing that Haruba will keep supplying her with the diamond studded lifestyle she's accustomed to. She would however prefer to feel a bit more passion about the man himself and wishes to have her feelings tweaked to that end. She has convinced her father Yosuke – as a final parting gift – to hire out your services so she can have the approximation of a happy wedding, so she doesn’t have to act the part the whole way through. Yosuke will be expecting you at his main residence in Yokohama at noon. Medea out.”