The Fate of Shin-Osaka – Chapter 9

“Okay, I’m approaching the side entrance, so we’ll go to text from here on in,” I mutter as I cross the street and approach Kadoma Ward General Hospital.

“Got it, Kara. I’m here if you need me,” Rin responds.

It’s a warm morning, and my back is already slick with sweat, just like everyone else commuting at this hour. I braided my long hair into a low crown and put the short wig on top. That’s definitely not helping with the heat, but I’ll be fine once I get inside.

When I first arrived here, Rin told me that the seasons were mild. I grew accustomed to the chilly and rainy fall and winter months here on the Northern Continent. The dry heat on the Southern Continent was nice, too. But being in Shin-Osaka in the summer is another story. The moderate heat, combined with the high humidity, radiates off the buildings and intensifies when you least expect it. Most days, it’s like walking through soup. I’ll be glad for the change of seasons in a few months.

If I make it that far.

Let’s hope I do because I am dying to get a break from all of this stealthy undercover shit. It is not my forte.

I commuted here from Matsubara Ward by going the long way around. It took me an hour of walking through the northern part of the ward, away from the skirmishes in the south, to reach a branch of the butsu running to other parts of the city. After four transfers, I made it into Kadoma Ward two hours later.

If I were a human, I’d be tired by now. But I’m ready for this. My chip is programmed as an employee of Inochi Corporation. I have the specs for the freeze chambers and a hospital map stored in my memory banks. My charge is at ninety percent.

For a moment, I wish Saki was here with me. She’d keep me on task and my spirits high. She’d banter and be on the lookout. I actually miss her.

“Are you having second thoughts?” Rin asks. He’s probably pouring over the data streaming to him and wondering about my body heat and rising heart rate.

“No. I just want this to go easy. It’s been a rough few months, and I’m looking for a win.” I wince as I realize I sound like Yumi, but I’m supposed to be Kara. The difference between the two is razor-thin.

Change the subject.

I sweep my gaze left and right as I approach the entrance.

“Plenty of security.”

Aoi Uma soldiers in black fatigues patrol the perimeter with swords and guns. Though they’re armed, they have an easiness about them with a stroll to their steps. A cluster of three armed men loiter on the sidewalk. The soldier on the right is checking his tablet. The one in the middle is surveying the crowd with a distracted expression while scratching his nose. The soldier on the left acknowledges me with a nod of his head.

“They aren’t paying much attention,” Rin says. “You should be good.”

It’s early, but the hospital never closes. The coffee cart has a line twelve customers deep, and doctors and nurses in scrubs sit on benches in the courtyard, talking or reading. Many of them are red-eyed and haggard. It can’t be easy dealing with a constant influx of injuries because of the war brewing only a few kilometers away.

Before I head inside, I turn at the intersection and gaze off down the street towards the Kiiroi Yama building about ten blocks away. The last time I was there I was downloaded into this body, and Okamoto said that he wouldn’t let Aoi Uma control his building. He’s keeping his word. The security there is tight. Armored vehicles sit outside, and plenty of people walk the perimeter. I can’t count how many from this distance, but it’s a sizable amount.

I wonder how they’re doing. Have they sussed out the android spies in their ranks? Are they preparing for an all-out assault? What is Okamoto planning next? I have no idea. He’s been quiet since we last spoke.

If Rin has any comments about my pause to assess the building, he says nothing.

I continue on to the entrance, present my wrist to the scanner, and the door clicks open. A security guard on the other side glances at my profile as I walk in, but he doesn’t even lift his head to make eye contact. I’m just another employee. He sips from his coffee cup and returns to looking at the profile of the person entering behind me.

I’m in.

The side entrance dumps me straight into the back of the emergency room off the ambulance bay. Trauma rooms line the nearest wall, and every one of them is filled. Three beds apiece occupy smaller rooms to the far side. My eyes take in the harm done to these people — head lacerations, broken bones, burns, and on and on. The unnecessary damage and loss of life makes me more willing to put my own existence at risk to help them.

“Kara, move on from here. You don’t want to be caught out of place.” Rin’s voice is soothing and kind, the tone he uses when he’s trying to keep me on an even keel.

And he’s right. I have a job to do, and it’s not dealing with the sick or wounded.

I turn left and take the hallway leading to the hospital proper. Down this way to the central corridor, I cross over the open space with soaring high glass ceilings to the internal stairwell. No one stops or questions me, and I make it to the stairs with a sigh of relief. But if I thought navigating the hospital via the stairs would put me out of the eye of the staff, I was wrong.

A group of young interns is clustered on the stairs, looking like they’ve been to hell and back.

“Hey, if I don’t get to rest, you don’t get to rest,” one young woman says, poking a young man in the shoulder. His eyes jump open, and he inhales.

“Give me a break, Shira. I have been on call for thirty-six hours now.” He tips up his watch. “Fuck me. No. Thirty-nine.” He groans and lies back on the stairs. That can’t be comfortable.

Another woman sees me coming and smacks her friend on the shoulder. “Move over. You’re blocking the way.” She smiles, and I smile back. “Sorry.”

“No problem,” I say, descending the stairs to their side.

“Hey, you work for that body-freezing company, right?” One guy sits forward with his arms on his knees. I slow down.

“Yeah, I do.” I make eye contact with the woman beside him, but she shrugs.

“Hypothetical question for you.” He clears his throat. “If I buy a freezing package and commit suicide, will they still, you know, take care of me?”

I draw a breath and look at them all. These people are in the prime of their lives — young, talented, and ready to start their careers. But instead of getting to know the ins and outs of their job, Aoi Uma’s war has forced them into combat first aid and slap-dash surgeries.

I sigh and rest my arm on the stairwell handrail. “Rough week, huh?”

One intern rests her head on her arms over her propped-up knees. Another says, “Rough life, not week.”

“I didn’t think I was signing up for a war zone,” the young man says.

“I understand.” I deflate a little, seeing how conflicted they are. They probably dreamed their whole lives of going into medicine, and then this shit happens. “But to answer your question, I believe that as long as you secure the contract and pay the balance, they don’t care how you die.” I shrug. “But I think there’s a lot here worth living for.”

A young woman waves her hand and lowers her voice to a whisper. “I hear Aoi Uma wants to put us all in androids.” She shakes her head. “No, thanks. I’d rather die.”

“It’s just a rumor,” another woman says.

“It’s all over the forums. I’m sure it’s only a matter of time before we hear it from the bitch herself.”

I try not to laugh at Narumi being called ‘the bitch.’

“Kara…” Rin’s voice is a warning in my head, but I ignore him, crossing my ankles and leaning against the handrail.

“How do you feel about Shiroi Nami? They are more into advancing humans with genetic enhancements. Is that more your speed?”

“Maybe?” The first young man who spoke shrugs. “I don’t know. I would look into it if it was an option and not a requirement.”

“If it made your dick bigger,” the woman beside him says, “then I’m sure you’d be into it.”

They all laugh. The stairwell door flies open.

“I did not tell you that you could rest!” A woman with the stern manner of an ancient school teacher stands in the doorway. All the interns scramble. “I do not care about your personal lives or your lack of stamina. You have jobs to do. Now, do them!”

They run past her onto the main floor, and she grumbles under her breath about incompetent students and how this never happened when she was an intern.

I chuckle and continue down the stairs. I’m sure that’s so, lady. You were never bright-eyed and bushy-tailed like them. Never.

“You can’t do that,” Rin warns in my head. “You can’t call attention to yourself.”

“Lighten up. I’m a whole different person now. No one is going to suspect anything.”

“Overconfidence is always a weakness.”

“Speak for yourself, kenryōshi.”

Rin sighs, but it’s one of his ‘you’ve called me out, and I can’t argue it’ sighs. Yes, he has more distinct sighs than words most days. It’s one of his more attractive qualities.

When I reach the basement level, I walk through the door with my chin up and my eyes straight forward. I’m here for a purpose. I’m an Inochi Corporation employee, and the frozen bodies in my care are my top priority.

The Inochi Lab is all the way at the end of the corridor, but the UPN drop is closest to the stairwell. I stop in there first to get the lay of the land. The room size takes me by surprise. I memorized the schematics and floor plans, but seeing it in person is another story.

The space is at least ten degrees colder than room temperature. Refrigerated units holding blood and other liquids line the far right wall. A hospital employee unloads more blood packs from a crate at his feet, scanning each packet before adding it to the shelf. Locked cases hold medicine, and shelves are stocked with gauze and other medical supplies I don’t recognize. On the far left wall are the UPN drops. Two people, a man and a woman, unload crate after crate from the smaller drop on the right side. A wallpanel next to it displays the schedule of incoming and outgoing shipments.

I ignore the two and approach the wallpanel to ensure everything is set for this morning. Ryoko, through Inochi, set up an outgoing reservation for my, Yumi’s, body at ten thirty, a little over an hour from now. I tap on the outgoing tab and see that the slot is booked. My chest rises and falls with relief.

“Are you the Inochi employee?” the guy asks, huffing as he sets the crate down next to the shelving unit.

“Yeah, that’s me,” I say with a confident smile. I minimize the wallpanel. “Looks like I’m all good.” I turn to go, but he pops up and steps towards me.

“It’s just that I saw you have an incoming body at nine forty-five, and I’ve been really interested in this cryo-freeze process. I was wondering if I could watch?” He worries his hands in front of him as his workmate rolls her eyes and turns to the crates.

A body is incoming at nine forty-five? That wasn’t a part of the plan.

Rin swears. “Uhhh, let me take a look. Stall,” he says.

I turn on a fake smile. “I’m so sorry. But it’s company policy not to have visitors during the freezing of our clients. You know, for privacy reasons.” His face falls in disappointment. I’m sure this is some misguided attempt at getting more information on a ‘cool’ procedure than his fellow workmates. “But I believe that if you contact Inochi and let them know you’re interested in the process, they can do a background check and all the contracts and everything…”

He waves his hand. “Nah, forget it. I just thought I’d try since it’s happening right now, you know?”

I nod, pressing my lips into a sympathetic frown. “Sorry.” He steps back as I bow.

“I understand.”

I turn on my heel and leave the room, truck it to the end of the hall, wave my wrist at the Inochi lab door, and slip inside.

“Shit,” I breathe out.

“Yeah, it’s not good. Looks like someone important died last night, and he’s on his way to be frozen this morning. And we can’t do anything about the situation because if we call for another employee to come take care of it, it’ll be suspicious because you’re already there.”

I glance around to see if anyone is in the room before I speak out loud. The coast is clear. There’s nothing here except for rows of stacked cryo-freeze coffins. The air is so still, so stale; it’s as if the humidity has been sucked out of the room, leaving it powder dry. The only noise is the whirring of machinery and fans, the occasional beep.

“What if I come back some other time?” I stroll forward into a stack and out of the doorway.

“Can’t. Inochi’s system knows an employee is there. You. You can’t call attention to yourself by leaving or calling for help.”

“And if I were to call out sick or something, they would have to investigate.” I sigh. “Yeah, looks like I’m going to have to handle it, whether I want to or not.”