This choice: Reminisce about the last two years • Go Back...Chapter #6Malacandran Moments by: imaj   You kneel down in front of Heintzelmann, demurely casting your gaze downwards at the tray in front of you. The businessman sits cross legged on a low stool. His sharp pinstriped suit is at odds with the mishmash oriental styling of the room. The shoeless feet are particularly odd looking.
He’s paying for the ‘authentic’ Japanese experience, you think as you pour his tea, so that’s what he’ll get. You resist the temptation to smile. He doesn’t realise how inauthentic his experience is: The real Jenny Watanabe is asleep in her house.
You knocked her out this morning before taking a copy of her imago. With her form and memories at your fingertips, it was easy enough to replace her for the day. Jenny has a talent for remaining po-faced despite Heintzelmann’s eccentricities and you’ve made use of that today. His idea of what passes for Japanese is enough to make a third generation immigrant like Jenny laugh – or at least she would if it wouldn’t get her fired.
As for Miko? Well she seemed even unhappier than usual when she gave you this assignment.
You finish pouring Heintzelmann and his guest their tea before standing up and retreating a few metres. The weird wooden sandals are awkward, but Jenny is practiced enough in walking with them and that means you are too. You clasp your hands gently in front of you. They rub at the silk material of your entirely inappropriate kimono.
With your head bowed no one notices you, exactly like you want it. The pair of daggers and the spring loaded contraptions housing them strapped to your wrists itch at your skin. You’ve no idea where Miko got them from. For all the ridiculousness of your silken gown, you have to admit its loose sleeves work perfectly in combination with the daggers.
You glance around the room, making sure to keep your head bowed. This is Heintzelmann’s personal office, the heart of his business empire, and it looks confused to say the least. The things you’d expect are there: The huge desk with the ultra expensive computer, the sleek furniture and the huge window in one wall that gives him a panoramic view of the surroundings. The room is also covered in a mixed up grab bag of oriental paraphernalia.
Heintzelmann considers himself a collector. That’s why he’s drawn Miko and the Stellae’s attention.
“…straight to business then,” says Heintzelmann’s guest, your ears picking up bits of the low conversation. Another advantage of being almost part of the furniture. “That’s something I can appreciate.”
“Then you have the piece,” states Heintzelmann, his broad Texan accent obvious.
“Of course,” replies the guest. He motions with one hand to his flunky.
The flunky is a huge wall of a man in an ill fitting suit with a shaven head and a set of wrap around sunglasses. He’d been standing motionless until the guest called on him, making him almost a part of the furniture too. The flunky might have made for a good disguise as well, if you’d known that he was going to be here today. In practice though, the fighting style that Miko has been teaching you is more suited to an agile body
The flunky hands the guess a small metal box. “What do you think,” asks the guest, opening the box and showing its contents to Heintzelmann. The Texan smiles widely.
The guest wasn’t part of Miko’s plans, and his being here today is unexpected. Unsurprisingly, you’re a good bit interested in seeing the contents of the box, whatever it is the guest has for Heintzelmann. Interestingly, there’s been no talk of price or cost, but rather the implication that it is a gift for future services to be decided.
You can’t get close, of course, not without an opening. You watch impatiently as Heintzelmann and his guest drink their tea – it would give you an excuse to get close and sneak a peak as you take the tray away. All you can make out is a glimpse of something green and shiny looking nestled on a purple velvet cloth.
“I am impressed Mr Temple,” replies Heintzelmann. “And I do not impress easily. This is what I think it is, the…”
Heintzelmann never has a chance to finish of his sentence. The door to the office bursts open and Miko comes bundling through.
Unfortunately, her hands are tied behind her back and she is being pushed forward by a pair of Heintzelmann’s own goons. A third follows behind, carrying Miko’s sword reverentially.
“What is the meaning of this,” asks Heinzelmann as he climbs awkwardly to his feet.
“Caught this one snooping around sir,” says on of the goons pushing Miko.
“And you decided to interrupt my meeting,” asks Heintzelmann querulously.
“Thought you might want to see this sir,” answers the goon. The other goon, the one with the sword steps forward and presents it to Heintzelmann. His eyes go wide again and he step close to Miko. She tries to pull away from him, as though disgusted, but the goons hold her in place.
“Is this,” begins Heintzelmann. The next words he says is whispered in hushed and respectful tones. “Kusanagi-no-Tsurugi? The Grasscutter?”
You feel Jenny’s patience at this fool of a man finally run out. Her personality insists you complain at his stupidity. You let it all run out, figuring a distraction is just what you need right now anyway.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” you say dropping any pretence of a foreign accent and letting the words roll out in Jenny’s natural SoCal tones. “That’s clearly a katana. Kusanagi would predate that by several centuries and is supposedly a longsword.”
Everybody freezes. There is a brief moment whilst Heintzelmann and his goons reprogram their faces. Miko, however, just stares at you despairingly for a few seconds. The guest, Mr Temple, is quicker though. He edges behind his flunky.
“Say what,” stutters Heintzelmann.
The momentary confusion is enough as Miko realises the opportunity you’ve given her. The restraints snap off and the two goons guarding her go sprawling to the floor as Miko catches them unawares. The third goon, the one carrying the sword has just enough time to register his surprise on his face before Miko grabs the sword off him. She brings him down with a sharp slash before he can reach for his underarm holster.
You figure that’s your cue. You twist you hands upwards, triggering the odd contraptions strapped to your wrists. Twin daggers slide forward into your hands. You grab hold of them and slip into the combat stance you practiced with Miko. The reflection of Malacandra shimmers and forms in your mind's eye.
Time seems to slow down.
You analyse the situation. Heintzelman is standing stupefied and you figure you can safely ignore him. His two remaining goons are going for their guns, but Miko has them well in hand. That leaves Temple. He’s running, abandoning whatever is in the box. You have a feeling he’s important somehow.
You spring towards Temple, but somehow his flunky manages to interpose his huge body between you. You bounce of his chest and roll to the floor, just managing to hold onto the daggers. It only takes a few seconds to leap back to your feet.
By that time the flunky is looming large over you. He holds himself ready to fight, his hands balled into mean looking fists. You skip backwards, easily dodging the brutes lumbering blows. He is so slow and easily predictable, but every time he drives you back gives Temple more time to escape. The flunky swings again and you easily dodge, even though your attention is half focussed on Temple as he runs out the door. You slash at the flunky’s exposed arms, cutting deep gouges in his suit and biting the flesh underneath.
No blood flows from the wounds.
You don’t let that throw you, Miko’s training has taught you that much. As the flunky attacks again, you simply step smartly to the side and keep swiping at his clothes. The suit falls to the ground in pieces, revealing a pale skinned torso painted with a spiralling sigil. At its centre, over the heart, a strange metal contraption has been driven into the flunky’s chest. A piece of padding falls away and suddenly you can hear a loud ticking sound.
Whatever he is, the flunky isn’t human, not anymore. Instinct tells you that clockwork contraption that has replaced his heart is involved somehow. You close in to him, darting under his arms as he tries to grab you. The flunky stagers as he misses you, giving you just enough time to spin round and bury one dagger deep inside the odd mechanism. There is a horrible grinding of gears and the flunky stops dead.
“What in tarnation was that,” cries Heintzelman.
“Nothing good,” replies Miko. Her sword pressed against the businessman’s throat. “Let’s have a talk, you and I...”
*****
“That sounds pretty badass,” says Joe with a grin as he leans forward. “Bet you wish you’d chosen Malacandra after all. Go on tell us another one.”
To stop telling tales, continue to your "Base Camp" 
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