"Oh-GER! Oh-GER! Oh-GER!!"
The crowd was on its feet, forgetting the fact of their highly illegal assembly, forgetting that what they were watching was strictly prohibited, forgetting even their tiredness and wretchedness in the sheer excitement of the vicious fight taking place in the improvised ring before and below them. Bets were still being placed, even at this late stage, with punters gambling anything they possessed - jewellery, clothes, food, even their children - in the frenzy of the moment....
In the ring, the combatants were showing signs of flagging. The contest had started three hours ago, and both men were bloody, staggering, now simply flailing at each other with arms lead-heavy with exhaustion, trying to batter the other into submission. They were well matched: both young, massive, heavily muscled, grimly determined to win. After all, a lot of money was riding on this fight. And they both needed money, badly...
Rikiya (popularly and affectionately known as the Red Ogre for his shock of flaming hair and the way he teased all the local children, pretending to be ferocious and threatening to eat them up - much to their giggling delight) fixed his opponent with his piercing blue gaze. Man Mountain - in reality Hikaru Tomiko - was probably the most difficult rival he had ever faced: the black haired bear of a man was certainly the most challenging. He winced imperceptibly as his cracked ribs made their presence felt again, and determinedly ignored the pain. He simply had to win. If he didn't give Hajime back his money, with interest and within 24 hours, the up-and-coming crime lord had threatened to take it out of his hide. Rikiya had seen some of the creatures - you couldn't really call them men, not anymore, not after Hajime's thugs had finished with them - who had failed to make their payments. He had no wish to end up the same way.
But gods! this brute of a man was proving at least as difficult to beat as his reputation had suggested. A worthy opponent, worthy of friendship and respect. If only the stakes weren't so high...
A fist slammed into his face, and he cursed himself for his slip of concentration. Grabbing the other around the waist, he slammed him to the ground, falling heavily on top of him. Man Mountain grunted and sagged, the wind knocked out of him, and Rikiya elbowed him, hard, in the solar plexus. As he gasped for breath, Rikiya dragged himself slowly to his feet and stood swaying, waiting for his rival to rise. It was an honourable act - and it proved his undoing. Tomiko, finally too desperate to care, kicked upwards, catching Rikiya squarely in the groin.
Stars of pain exploded behind the big man's eyes and he dropped to his knees, oblivious to anything except the agony pulsing in his genitals. The next moment he was simply oblivious, as his opponent landed a double-fisted blow to the base of his skull...
It was about an hour later that he regained consciousness. The improvised arena was empty and dark: everyone had gone. And he had lost. His heart sank as he realised what that meant.
He pulled himself into a sitting position, moving slowly, careful of the ferocious ache in his groin, and considered his options. There weren't many. He could try running. He wasn't likely to get very far, though. He could try hiding. He had a few good friends who might just be prepared to help him out - if he could return the favour. He could turn himself in - plead guilty to illegal street-combat... He shook his head. It would be at best a very temporary solution - always assuming the cops didn't just laugh in his face and kick him out. He could try pleading with Hajime - no, forget that. A crime-lord just establishing himself was hardly likely to be merciful.
Or he could fight. He sighed. Why did it always have to come down to violence? It had always been the same. People took one look at him and either backed off in fear or saw him as a challenge. Except for the children, who loved him.
He climbed upright, and began to move cautiously away from the derelict area, keeping to the shadows as best he could. He managed to get three whole blocks before they caught up with him...
"So, "Red Ogre"." Hajime smiled. It wasn't a pretty smile. "Not so ogresome now. And not particularly red at the moment. We can easily remedy that."
He nodded to someone behind Rikiya. An instant later the big man clenched his teeth together to stop himself from crying out as a knife flashed across his naked chest, cutting a long, deep gouge in his skin. He struggled to free himself, uselessly. They had chained him securely to the heavy metal chair, which was itself riveted to the floor. Suspicious dark red stains on and around the chair suggested that it had seen a lot of this sort of action. Hajime smiled again, watching blood trickle down Rikiya's well-muscled body.
"Pretty. Let's see some more, shall we?"
The next half an hour was simple torture. Rikiya would have found a dozen rounds with Man Mountain less excruciating...
At length, panting, his throat and jaw aching from resisting the release of crying out, he was allowed a brief respite. Hajime walked slowly to the chair, and grabbed a handful of Rikiya's hair, wrenching his head painfully backwards.
"I want my money."
Rikiya tried to swallow. "I don't have it." he finally managed to rasp.
Hajime tugged hard, forcing his captive's head further back. "That's a pity, isn't it? What shall I do with you?"
"More time..."
"Oh, but I can't do that. The others would think I was soft. And that's no way to earn respect, now, is it? No - I think I'll use you as a lesson, to teach others I'm not to be taken lightly. It'll do the kids good, too, to know that no matter how big you are, there's always someone stronger..." He released Rikiya's hair and sauntered back to his desk, pulling open a small drawer and removing what at first sight looked like a pair of gloves.
He put them on and turned back to his captive, flexing his hands and turning them in the light so that Rikiya could see the strangely shaped blades embedded in the palms. The tips and edges were razor sharp, but immediately above the tips the knives widened and broadened, like odd, bulbous and misshapen chisels. Apprehensive, but intrigued despite himself, the big man couldn't take his eyes off the blades as Hajime slowly approached him. The blades glittered like winter sunlight on ice. Hajime stopped in front of the chair, watching Rikiya closely. His eyes glittered almost as brightly as the knives.
"I'll take your eyes as payment."
For a moment his captive couldn't breathe. Then, as the realisation of what life would be like if he were blind hit home, Rikiya began to struggle desperately.
"Noooooooooo!!"
"I'm afraid so." Hajime scowled at his men. "Well don't just stand there! Come and hold his head still. I only want his eyes. The way he's dancing around I'll get his nose and ears as well!"
Two thugs came forward and gripped his head tightly. Hajime smiled, and whispered, "Well, what do you know? I'll be, literally, the last thing you see..."
He placed his hands almost gently against Rikiya's head, high up in his hair, then began, slowly, to slide them downwards. As the blades sank into his flesh, tearing a wide furrow as they moved inexorably towards his eyes, the big man began to scream...
He awoke to darkness, shaking and sweating, his hands immediately reaching for his agonised face. He touched sticky wetness, and pulled his fingers quickly back from his raw flesh. Then, trembling, he lowered his fingertips towards his eyes...
His fingers sank into pools of blood and jelly. He tried to disbelieve it, tried to force it to be a dream - then reality hit him like a sledgehammer to the stomach. He rolled onto his side, pushed himself up onto his hands, and was violently sick.
As the spasm ended, and his trembling arms threatened to collapse under him, he heard a voice. A warm, female voice.
"Oh dear. Well, I suppose it was to be expected."
Rikiya froze, then struggled up onto his knees, straining - uselessly - to see. The voice continued.
"Please don't be afraid. Hajime doesn't wish you any more harm. Well, not at the moment, anyway. I'm here to look after you."
The blind man stayed silent. The woman sighed.
"I suppose I'd feel the same, in your place. But I am telling the truth. Will you let me help you?"
His refusal to respond irritated her, and her voice became exasperated.
"You can't manage anything by yourself. If you don't want me to help, I'll call in a couple of Hajime's men. I'd be a lot more gentle - but one way or another you will be cared for. Now, what is it to be?"
He raised his head and gazed sightlessly in her general direction, nodding slightly, and seconds later he felt a soft touch on his arm.
"Good. Now let me lead you to your bed."
As he stumbled across the room (at least, he assumed it was a room), leaning against her sturdy form, he asked, "What if I were to hold you hostage?"
He felt her shrug.
"I'm nothing to him. I'm expendable."
"Then why are you here?"
"I'm my family's repayment for a loan. I come in useful every now and then. As a "hostess" for colleagues he wants to keep sweet, or to spy on people he doesn't trust." He felt her shudder slightly. "Sometimes, if I'm really unlucky, he calls me to his bed..."
She shook her head and continued with forced cheerfulness. "Anyway, enough about me. Do you want me to see if I can get you some painkillers?"
"No - thank you."
"Are you sure? When the first shock wears off, you're going to be in so much pain..."
"I'll cope. But I could do with a drink."
"Sure. Anything in particular?"
"Milk. A gallon of ice-cold milk..."
She pushed him gently backwards to sit on the edge of a western-style bed. "Stay here for a moment. I'll see what I can do."
He heard the rustle of her robe as she moved away from him, and called out, softly, "I don't know your name."
There was a smile in her voice as she answered. "They call me Poppy."
"I am pleased to meet you, Poppy."
"And I am honoured to meet you, Gabimaru Rikiya. I will be back in just a little while."
The following days were filled with pain as clinical hands cleaned and treated the gaping wounds that had been his eyes. Unable to tell day from night, entirely dependent on others, the time should have been a nightmare for Rikiya - and indeed, he woke screaming from the horrors that filled his sleep more often than not. But Poppy was always there, her small, cool hand dwarfed in his huge one, her delicate perfume - a hint of jasmine and sandalwood, he thought - reassuring around him.
"What do you look like?" he asked her, some days later. She giggled.
"I could say anything, couldn't I? You can't tell whether I'm lying or not!"
"But I trust you not to."
"Oh." There was a small silence, then; "Well, I'm quite short. My eyes are light brown, and my hair is a sort of reddish brown. I take after my mother. She was American. I'm not exactly what you'd call pretty..."
"Neither am I. What else?"
He sensed her shrug. "That's about it."
"You're strong."
"Not really."
"I mean, your character is strong."
"Oh. Well, I'm kind of stuck here. I have to make the best of it. Once he owns something, Hajime doesn't let go..."
Rikiya groped for her hand and raised it to his healing face.
"I admire you."
He couldn't see it, but she blushed. "Aww, but I'm just me. Just doing what I have to to survive." She hesitated for a moment, then, "'Maru? Would you hold me, please?"
Hesitantly, he opened his arms, and she moved carefully into his embrace, cuddling against his strong body. He held her gently, stroking her hair, until her slower, deeper breathing told him she was asleep, then laid them both down, still embraced, on the bed. For once he slept soundly, without dreams...
As time went by, they grew closer, sharing secrets, touching innocently, like young, shy lovers. Rikiya healed slowly, the deep, discoloured scars on his face a lifelong reminder of the torture to which he had been subjected. He even found the courage to try and take the first steps by himself, refusing to be put off when he blundered into wall, or table, or fell over chairs and landed in a heap on the floor. Poppy cheered and encouraged him, although she couldn't keep her giggles to herself at the sight of him sprawled on the matting, tangled in chairs. Wonder of wonders, after a few seconds he too smiled, then chuckled. She gazed at him, fond tears in her eyes. He was so very special...
It couldn't last, of course. Three weeks after the blinding, and despite all Poppy could do to keep Rikiya's improvement from her master, eventually Hajime hauled her in before him and demanded a progress report.
She gripped her hands together behind her back and kept her eyes lowered.
"He is a lot better, my lord. But he still has a long way to go..."
Hajime slapped her face. "You're procrastinating. You know the plan. Is he fit enough for my purposes?"
She bit her lip. He slapped her again, harder. Her eyes filled with tears.
"...yes..."
"Good. I'll arrange the demonstration for three days time. Prepare him."
Poppy was escorted back to Rikiya's cell, and shoved inside. His head jerked up as she stumbled into the room, his eyeless sockets automatically - uselessly - seeking out the source of the sound. She bit back a sob and went to his side.
"'Maru? I have some bad news..."
He groped for her hands, and half-smiled, lopsidedly. "Then you had better tell me quickly."
"Hajime... It's... he wants... I'm sorry...."
He stroked her fingers and waited for her to continue. She swallowed hard and fought back her tears.
"He wants to make a public spectacle of you. He wants to parade you through the streets as an example of what happens to people who cross him." She choked on a sob. "He... He's going to put a collar round your neck, and drag you behind him on a leash..."
Rikiya's face was grim. "Over my dead body...."
Her tears overflowed. "No, my love. Over mine..."
Later, after Poppy had cried herself out and was sleeping fitfully on the bed beside him, Rikiya tried desperately to think of a way out of the situation. The wildest, most complicated and most implausible plans flitted through his mind - but none of them were feasible... Without his eyes he was practically helpless.
And there was Poppy to consider, as well. Although she could act as his eyes, once they had escaped, she wasn't a fighter - well, not physically, anyway. How could he possibly protect her, if he couldn't see what he was doing?
He fisted his hands so hard it hurt. How the fuck was he going to handle this...?
Hours later, his mind reeling and his body so exhausted that his eyelids - if he'd had any - would be drooping, he was just falling asleep.....
Sudden staccato gunfire jerked him upright. Poppy flinched in her sleep and curled into a tiny ball out of habit, then groggily woke up and reached for Rikiya's hand.
"What...?"
He hushed her, listening intently to try to make sense of what was happening. It didn't sound good. The suddenly cut-short screams of the dying, shouts of defiance, the faint but unmistakable crunch of breaking bones, splintering wood... All the time the noises came closer...
The cell door slammed open, and Poppy struggled off the bed to stand in front of the blind man, her face white with fear but nevertheless determined to defend him.
"What do you want?"
"Him."
"Why?"
"That's none of your business. Get out of the way, bitch."
There was a confused sound of struggling, and a strange voice snarling - "Shit! The little slut's bitten me!" then a single gunshot - followed by an ominous silence. Rikiya slid off the bed, his hands groping frantically before him. He touched hair - hair with a familiar scent and texture, hair that he'd imagined as the glorious gold and russet browns of an autumn leaf-fall...
He cradled her to him, suddenly, terrifyingly cold. She was oddly limp in his hands, and his hand slid down her body searching for her heart, familiar now as he had never quite dared to be while she was alive. Alive... His hand settled over her breast, feeling the warm blood there already cooling.
There was no pulse. They hadn't even had the time to say goodbye.
Unconsciously, his lips drew back from his teeth in a snarl. He rose, lifting her sweet body with him, growling, ready to kill anything that came within his reach.
A cold, unfamiliar voice spoke.
"Take him now, before he injures himself. Or any of you."
A second later he felt a sharp pain in his neck, followed by a deep, oddly soothing coldness that brought sleep in its wake...
"You can wake up now."
"...mnuh...." His head felt like a boisterous tribe of Sumo wrestlers had taken up residence inside; his body ached ferociously; and something cold and hard was poking him in the eyes...
No - that was wrong. He no longer had eyes.... POPPY!!
He shot upright. Rather, he tried to. The heavy restraints around his wrists, arms, chest, thighs and ankles forced him back down. Whoever his captors were, they were taking no chances.
"Ah, good. A positive reaction." The voice was cool, but not unkind. "Try opening your eyes."
His voice rasped out over a tongue that felt like heavy-duty sandpaper. "I have no eyes."
"Not your own, certainly. But there was enough healthy optic nerve left for us to use. You've been fitted with cyber-eyes, the best currently available. Try them."
For a moment Rikiya lay rigidly still, then, disbelievingly, flexed the memory of the muscles that used to pull his eyelids apart...
And he could see.
If you could call it 'seeing'.
There were colours beyond colours. He could see temperature. The fluorescent antiseptic light in the corridor flared and glittered with star-like beauty. Through the window, the loops and swirls of the most exquisite aurorae, the old familiar citylights now transformed, filled his mind. Looking - finally - at the person who had spoken, he saw an exquisite creature limned in electrical impulse, delicate traceries of nerves sparkling beneath his skin, and, further in, the bleached pale glow of bone...
"What have you done to me?" Somehow, he hadn't expected his voice to hold that awed, hushed tone...
The doctor smiled. "Does it meet with your approval?"
"I'm... I'm not sure....."
"A not unusual reaction. Very well. For now, I'll leave you to come to terms with your new vision. Tomorrow we'll start your orientation."
"Orientation?"
The close-cropped head nodded. "Indeed. You will need to learn the implant's different functions, how to use them, how to control them. How to care for them, as well. It shouldn't take you more than a month."
"Who are you?"
"We'll talk again later." Ignoring his question, the doctor hastened from the room.
He couldn't sleep - stupid to expect it! The world had suddenly become a vibrant, overwhelming treasure house of the most extraordinary, exquisite jewels. Even his own massive hand, tethered to the heavy metal bar at the bedside, was incredibly beautiful, shimmering and sparkling with colour and life. He came close to tears, just watching the electrical impulses spark beneath his skin... Distantly, he wished Poppy could share this with him.
It wasn't until the sunrise began to tinge the eastern sky with breathtaking shades of ultra-pink and infra-mauve that he stopped to wonder. Who had done this? And why?
The answer came a couple of hours after sunrise. A slim figure, conservatively dressed, average in appearance, sombre of habit and quiet of voice entered the room and paused at his bedside.
"Gabimaru Rikiya, I'm pleased to meet you."
The big man swivelled his new eyes towards the stranger. Silhouetted against the sun, he was a blinding indigo-black shot through with curlicues of gold and blood red.
"Who are you?"
The newcomer's smile had a touch of cruelty about it. "You can call me Set."
"The serpent. Osiris' murderer."
"Or maybe his liberator. There are always at least two sides to all things..."
"And what do you want of me?"
"I want you to work for me."
Rikiya hesitated for a moment, frowning. "And if I refuse?"
Set gestured elegantly to the window, where the sun was pulsing green and gold in the plants the big man could see - and patchworking the sky with an infinitude of colours blue...
"If you refuse, I will take your eyes away. Again. But this time, I will ensure that they can never be replaced. I will have my surgeons burn out what's left of your optic nerves. Then no one else would have you. And I don't think you'd survive long on the streets."
Rikiya shuddered, remembering the terrifying helplessness he'd felt... Best to go along with what the stranger said, at least for the moment.
He nodded, a little reluctantly, and Set patted his shoulder.
"Good. I assure you your employment will be both lucrative and interesting; we take care of our own." He nodded towards the door, and a couple of white-coated men entered the room. "I think we can have those restraints off, now."
As the orderlies began to unbuckle the straps, Set turned casually to his captive.
"I feel I should mention, however, that the implant has a slight modification."
Rikiya stared at him, not understanding. Set smiled.
"Just in case you had any ideas about trying to escape. Or causing any of us any injury. You'll be under surveillance at all times. At the first sign of rebellion, we will direct a small but potent electrical charge along the optic nerve and into your brain. A minor shock will cause pain and disorientation: at higher levels, permanent brain damage is probable."
The big man nodded grimly. "I see."
"I'm sure you do. And I trust we understand each other."
"I don't have a lot of choice, do I?"
"I'm afraid not. Now, let me introduce you to Doctor Nell MacFee. She'll be in charge of teaching you how to operate the implant."
As the cyber-surgeon began to explain the functions of his eyes, Set left the room. Rikiya stared after the man responsible for Poppy's death and his own captivity, and silently vowed vengeance...
Stories
Oedo Index
The Zone