United States of Japan by Peter Tieryas Page A

objectively, it made no sense. Some of the finest officers she’d served with were of mixed ethnicity, whereas many of the pureblooded Japanese were arrogant assholes who felt too privileged to listen to common sense.
    As an agent of Tokko, she knew hints of personality had to be vanquished. Akiko possessed no photos, despised most gifts as junk, and had only the most utilitarian of furniture. Her kitchen was bare as she rarely ate at home. The floors were concrete and the wood was stripped out in case of electronic bugs. There were no shelves betraying books of interest, nothing worthy of being categorized as a hobby, though she did possess an extensive library of writing recommended during her time at BEMAG on her portical.
    She was extremely satisfied with the thought that even if her apartment had been targeted by the terrorists, she’d have lost nothing and her room would be almost indistinguishable from a thousand others. Anonymity was her secret identity. Her appearances were mostly natural with only a minimal amount of sun cream to protect her skin. For official agency visits, she wore dark red lipstick and colored her eyes violet because she found the effect intimidating for her subjects. It was a color combination she’d worked at over the years to produce an almost warpaint-like appearance, and it was the one she’d used when she met Beniko Ishimura.
    Almost a day after she’d sent her boyfriend to the clinic, she was at the hospital with Ben. He’d survived the attack and was lying on a hospital bed in front of her, his back being treated for burns. The doctor had assured her he’d be able to return to duty in a few hours, saved by his suit of armor.
    “Thanks for coming for me,” Ben said to her. “If you hadn’t delayed that bomb, I’d be a thousand pieces right now.”
    “It was my duty,” she replied.
    “Even if it was, I’m grateful,” he said. He turned to the side. “I honestly didn’t think you would give a shit whether I lived or died.”
    “Why would I not? We’re both servants of the Emperor.”
    “I’m glad you still feel that way.”
    “Why didn’t you trust me when I asked you to jump out of the window?” she demanded. “If I wanted you dead, I wouldn’t have gone through such an elaborate ruse.”
    “It’s not that I didn’t trust you,” he replied. “I’m just afraid of heights.”
    She looked at his scars, which were already looking better. “You’re fortunate Los Angeles has the best medical facilities in the Empire.”
    The Empire’s state of the art biotechnology had eliminated most known diseases, a fact not lost on all the German officials she saw in the hallway. The burn marks on Ben’s back were rapidly healing, but her mind involuntarily went back to the night her brother had been killed by explosives from an American terrorist attack. He’d been burned beyond recognition and, for a moment, the blackened groove of Ben’s skin looked the same. Still, it was only an archipelago of burn marks in an ocean of flesh compared to the lava field that had been her brother. Ben had survived with superficial wounds to his back and arm.
    “I feel very fortunate,” Ben said. “And grateful.”
    Her principal mission had been to execute Jenna publicly, despite her protests to the contrary, and have her brain ready for Biologics. Akiko had also been told to assess the captain, determine if the complaints about his lazy work ethic were true. She didn’t like him, didn’t think he took his job seriously enough. But as she reported, he had been able to crack Claire’s portical when over thirty specialists had failed.
    “How many others died?” he asked.
    “I don’t have the exact number. Other agents are still collating the information.”
    “Anyone you know pass away?”
    “Someone leading the bomb squad,” Akiko replied. “I was supposed to be in her place.”
    “I’m sorry to hear that.”
    “I didn’t know her well,” Akiko stated. “But she died