Chapter 12: The Phone Call

Longitude 160° E, latitude 0°, above the Pacific Ocean.

More than four thousand meters above sea level hung an artificial floating island that never landed—Tiandu.

This city housed the imperial palace and had been built with humanity's most advanced technology. Rising sea levels, nuclear war, shifts in the earth's crust, drastic climate change, rampant viruses—none could threaten Tiandu.

As the last line of defense for the heart of the Empire, the city had been built with every possibility in mind. From hardware to software, from the floating island's external weapons and defense systems to its rigorous internal security checks on everyone entering and leaving, every precaution was in place. Even royalty and nobility had to comply to the letter. It had been this way for a hundred years, without a single lapse.

Yet just twenty nautical miles east of Tiandu lay a place known as hell.

Hell Island emerged from the sea only once every nine days. Only then did the world's most heavily guarded prison—Tidal Prison—have a brief opportunity for contact with the outside world.

Today was one of those days.

Large shipments of supplies and prisoners were being brought onto the island through two separate passages leading straight down to the prison on the seabed. The guards and transport workers were all on high alert, not daring the slightest lapse or oversight. Everyone simply hoped to finish the day's work quickly, without anything going wrong.

That, of course, was impossible. Every time Hell Island surfaced, prisoners attempted to escape.

But in the more than sixty years since the prison was built, not a single prisoner had escaped successfully.

In other words, every nine days, someone was killed trying to escape.

“Hey, Brother Chen, look at that ship,” a sailor aboard a freighter said to the first mate beside him. “What outfit does it belong to? Never seen it before. Some branch of the military?”

The first mate followed his gaze and saw a black “armored shuttle vessel,” its hull bearing the Empire's emblem in gold: a diamond encircled by two stellar orbits. The ship was moored on the far side of the island, seemingly trying to avoid attention, with hardly anyone guarding it.

“That branch is called ‘Don't Ask.’ If you want to live long enough to get where I am, remember to chuck your curiosity down the toilet and flush it out to sea. Sooner rather than later.”

The sailor curled his lip. “Tch. Even if I stick it out till retirement, the best I'll ever be is captain of a freighter.” He jerked his thumb at the sky behind him. “To the big shots on that floating island, I'd still be worth less than a dog.”

The first mate casually slapped the back of the sailor's head. “Listen to yourself, you sorry bastard. Ever heard the saying, ‘Better a dog in peaceful times than a man in times of war’? If life's too hard for you, go smash your head in and get yourself reincarnated. If you've got the balls, there's Steel Commandment in Europe, Flame Martial Union in South Africa, and Freedom Front in North America. Go chase your dreams of being a big shot there. Don't work under me.”

“Heh heh, Brother Chen, come on. I was just talking. We've got it pretty good these days. Fish and meat every day, a few trips ashore each year to enjoy ourselves. I wouldn't dare take on the Empire. Those lunatics rebelling against it—even if they beat the one-in-ten-thousand odds and actually pull it off, how many generations will it take before their descendants finally get to live the good life they're spilling their blood and giving their lives for today?”

The first mate had been about to chat a little longer, but his expression suddenly changed, and everything he had been about to say vanished from his mind. Pointing at the black ship, he stammered, “Y-you... look... that man...”

The sailor's eyesight wasn't as good as the first mate's, but he soon saw it too. A blue-haired young man was walking slowly toward the black ship. The middle-aged man accompanying him, nodding and bowing all the way, was none other than the usually insufferably arrogant prison warden.

“That's enough. No need to see me any farther, Warden.” The blue-haired young man waved for him to stop.

“Please, just call me Jefferson, sir,” the warden said with the utmost respect. He had stopped dead the instant the young man said “No need,” and dared not take another half step.

Though the blue-haired young man had little liking for him, he remained quite polite. “Very well, Mr. Jefferson. Thank you for your hospitality, but this is far enough. You must still have work to do.”

The warden lowered his head slightly, avoiding his eyes in a show of humility. “Quite right, sir. As soon as you're aboard, I'll return to my duties.”

“Mm,” the young man acknowledged. He was about to turn away when something occurred to him, and he looked back. “Oh, one more thing. It's not that I don't trust you, but please make absolutely sure that prisoner from earlier is confined exactly as I instructed. Otherwise, he may very well escape.”

“Understood. I wouldn't dare allow the slightest mistake.”

“Good, then.”

“Safe travels, sir.” The warden stood there, bent forward in a bow, until the black ship had sailed away. Who he was putting on this show for was anyone's guess.

Five minutes later, aboard the black ship.

The blue-haired young man's quarters could hardly be called luxurious, but they were certainly no worse than a captain's cabin on an ordinary cruise ship.

He brewed a pot of tea, switched on his computer, and checked what seemed to be an endless stream of emails. Suddenly, one subject line caught his attention: “Hokkaido ‘Inverted Cross’ Serial Murders.”

After only a cursory look at the contents, he immediately set down his cup and made a call. “Hello, is this the governor of Sakura Prefecture?”

The voice on the other end trembled. “Y-yes... May I ask who's calling, sir?”

“I'm terribly sorry. Something very urgent has come up, and going through the judicial department's channels would take far too long, so I've used the royal direct line. It's still the early hours where you are. Did I wake you?”

“No! No, no! Absolutely not! Whatever you need, sir, just say the word.” In fact, the governor had been furious at first. He had been sound asleep under the covers in the middle of winter when the phone on his bedside table suddenly rang. Whoever was on the other end, he had been ready to pick up and swear at them. But then he saw that the call had been forwarded from the governor's office, and the words “Royal Direct Line” on the display. Fear had all but extinguished his anger. Now the caller's genial manner left him quite overwhelmed by the honor.

“Good. Here's the situation...” The blue-haired young man paid little attention to his reaction and continued with the business at hand.

After their conversation, the governor wasted no time waking a great many people in the small hours, and those people woke still more... Roughly twenty minutes later, when the blue-haired young man aboard the black ship called the governor of Sakura Prefecture's direct line again, he was transferred straight to someone's mobile.

“I am Kuwabara Junichi, a member of HL's Sakura Prefecture branch. Military rank: second lieutenant; combat rank: Normal. Stationed in Hokkaido, with a cover identity as a police coroner. What are your orders, sir?” The man on the other end introduced himself meticulously, his tone neither servile nor overbearing.

“I saw an email your superiors sent to headquarters. Were you the original source of the report?”

“Yes, sir.”

“How is the case coming along? The report said you already had a lead on the culprit?”

“Of course.” Something in the voice on the other end suddenly changed. “Aren't you talking to him right now? Hahahahaha!”

Peals of manic laughter reached the blue-haired young man's ears. His eyes widened, and for a moment he had no idea what to say.

“Yesterday, following standard HL procedure, Kuwabara-kun called in four ‘Cleaners’ to watch me as soon as he noticed something amiss. Heh, that didn't really matter, but a request to deploy Cleaners is bound to require a report, so I figured you'd get involved before long.” Tian Yi laughed smugly. “If you'd been born in the nineteenth century, you'd have made a very good detective. You know, these past few years, fewer and fewer people have been capable of dogging my heels and picking holes in everything. I'm really looking forward to seeing what you can do. Hurry over to Hokkaido. Plenty of fresh clues are waiting for you.”

The blue-haired young man let out a breath and steadied himself. “You've already left Hokkaido?”

“Of course. I've wanted to leave for ages. I regretted coming here on the second day. Crab and sushi really are things you should only have as an occasional treat. I still prefer my spicy fried chicken wings by the bucket.”

“So you decided to leave a puzzle behind to test me?”

Tian Yi remained as unconcerned as ever. “It's just a game. You don't have to take it so seriously. Don't worry, I haven't left you anything that would spoil the fun. Policemen who can see clearly against the light, coroners who play with knives and guns—I've dealt with all of them. You can spend a good while savoring the physical evidence and the few civilians' statements that are left.”

“It seems you've already killed Kuwabara...”

“You really do like stating the obvious. How else would calling Kuwabara's mobile get you through to me? Hahahaha! His immediate superior still doesn't know his subordinate is dead. Tell me, with communications so advanced these days, have they brought people closer together or pushed them farther apart? Hahaha...”

“I will catch you, Tian Yi,” the blue-haired young man said icily.

From the other end came the sound of someone blowing a raspberry, followed by another burst of laughter. Then the call ended.