Pandion (Genera #1)

Chapter 10

W ith most of the credit chips processed, Kagesawa’s CV was starting to look almost normal. This was an achievement considering how long he’d been paying his rent and other things with those chips. Who could even say how much of it was lost forever.

Harumine felt a pang of guilt, having assumed the worst when he’d seen the CV so empty before. Thinking back to it now, how had he thought Kagesawa had afforded an apartment had he not worked at all? Alarm bells should have already rung then.

But it was sorted now, and while their score was still under 80%—at least until the next calibration check a year from now—Harumine didn’t feel half bad about the selection of work offered to them. Sure, this wasn’t the life he’d expected, but it was getting significantly better than sorting trash.

Their next job was three days a week Monday to Wednesday at a research institute. Although some of it was data management and admittedly not that far from sorting trash, it was a clean indoor job with occasional other assignments within the same project.

By lunchtime the first day, Kagesawa had picked up the necessary skills to be on par with Harumine. It affirmed the fact he was a quick learner so long as he could stay motivated and focused on the task at hand.

The only thing that consistently gave him trouble was receiving file transfers through the link, but even those were manageable with frequent breaks. Because of the high cognitive load, sending files through the link for longer than fifteen minutes at a time was not recommended anyway, so Kagesawa never had to put up with the boredom for long.

“You were right. It wasn’t as bad as I feared,” Kagesawa noted while deciding what to have from the canteen.

“I think I’ll have the salad,” Harumine decided.

“I hate bell peppers.”

“I’ll dampen the link while I eat them. Anything else I should know? Is orange juice fine?”

“Yeah.” Kagesawa looked troubled. “How do we feel about the chilli soup with garlic bread? Too much?”

“Um.” Harumine couldn’t handle hot or spicy foods, and it wasn’t for the taste. “You’re OK eating something like that?”

“Yes? Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well, knock yourself out then.” This could be an unexpected perk if he could skip the consequences.

“What about coffee?” Kagesawa was already at the cups, barely waiting for permission. It wasn’t as if he needed to, but since he had a bit of an excessive streak when it came to coffee—to a degree it would easily affect both of their days—he’d voluntarily taken the habit to ask.

“Sure.” A lunchtime cup was a requirement if one expected Kagesawa to be semi-alert in the afternoon. Usually, the jitters were worth it.

“Hey.” Kagesawa abruptly turned around to face Harumine. “Did you want us to get another job for Thursdays and Fridays?”

“Why? Do you have something in mind?”

“No, I was thinking I might work on something from home if that’s fine by you. I’ve got some stuff lined up.”

Since Harumine was no longer in a hurry to find his own place, he wondered if this gentle three-day work week would be good for his mental health after all the stress from his final year of school. Will four days off per week make me lazy?

“You could help me with it if you want. Who knows, maybe you’ll like it.” Kagesawa didn’t feel too optimistic through the link, but at least he was offering.

“I guess, if there’s something you think I can help you with.”

“Aren’t you good at everything?”

“That’s not necessarily a given.”

“I still feel like it’s probably going to be more a case of whether you’re going to like it or not.”

“I appreciate your confidence.”

Compared to Kagesawa, Harumine downright sucked. He wasn’t used to being made to look this bad, but since he rarely experienced any decent competition, trying to keep up with Kagesawa presented an invigorating, if somewhat masochistic, thrill.

Because of the insanely vast complexity of the task, half the time Harumine had no idea what they were even doing.

To call it hacking would have been incorrect: Kagesawa would gain access by some unorthodox, not-entirely-ethical means, but he seemed particular about not breaking any laws while doing so. He picked up a crapton of crumbs from seemingly unrelated sources and made them make sense together. How he calculated those relationships without losing track of the whole was beyond Harumine, especially when he was busy with trying to keep up with the multitude of pickup procedures. He was used to juggling heavy cognitive loads while operating the BCI at school, and it was commendable that the usually quite careless Kagesawa was taking such extensive precautions, but this seemed excessive even to him.

“It’s turning out to be a nasty-big jigsaw puzzle, but it looks like it’s coming together,” Kagesawa commented. He didn’t speak much while he was in the middle of something, and he’d only taken a break because something on his screen was loading and the BCI was kept busy with a temporary automated process.

From what Harumine could tell through the link, the fast pace was key in keeping the man focused, and because the pauses were so loathsome for him, he only stopped when he was forced to by a snag in the process or when he was done with something.

“How do you decide what to take and where?” Harumine snatched this rare opportunity to ask.

“It’s a hunch. I’ve been doing this for a long time.” Kagesawa drummed the edge of his desk with his fingers.

“What’s it all for?”

“You want the truth?” He switched from drumming to shaking his leg and then back again.

“Yes?”

“I like the satisfaction of seeing it all come together. I don’t care so much about the outcome.” He proceeded to tap the tips of his fingers against his knee while he checked whether he could get back to it.

“But what do you do with all the data you’re collecting?” Harumine asked while the man still had capacity to hear.

“I find the optimal place to put it.” Kagesawa stretched, cracked his knuckles and resumed his increasingly restless fidgeting.

“‘Optimal’?” What was optimal? Harumine frowned.

“I’ll show you an example once this is done. Here’s a few more files for you. That stack should be enough.” The script was done loading, so Kagesawa continued where he’d left off and fell quiet again.

After three hours of this intense immersion and finding himself in dire need of sustenance and a pee break, Harumine was ready to declare Kagesawa a machine and admit defeat.

“I need a break.” He stood up and stretched. Kagesawa paid no attention. I need a break , Harumine repeated.

“Hmm?” Kagesawa seemed to take notice momentarily, but he was too much in the middle of it to break free. Harumine decided to leave him a note and retreated from the room.

A blip of confusion through the link alerted Harumine that Kagesawa had finally broken free from his obsessive concentration and realised Harumine was no longer in the room. He seemed to be reading the note, gained some awareness of his hunger and wondered what time it was.

It’s sixish, Harumine informed him from the living room. Done?

There was no clear projection back, but Harumine had curiously little trouble picking up a few pieces of what sounded like the man’s inner monologue as he finished up and emerged from his bedroom.

“Did it work out the way you thought it would?” Harumine asked and handed him a pair of katsu sandwiches with sliced cabbage and other assorted vegetables.

“Yes. Maybe better. Of course, I won’t know how all of it plays out once I’ve sent the data, but it’s looking promising.”

“What’s it for?”

“I’ll show you after I’ve eaten.” He sat down and decimated the sandwiches. Just when he was done and about to return to his BCI setup, Harumine received a message on his palm reader.

“I’m sorry, you’ll have to show me another time.” He stared at the message, dumbfounded. “I just got a reminder of a review appointment.”

“What?” Kagesawa sounded equally baffled.

“I don’t recall getting an invite in the first place. I need to recheck my messages… but this says it’s for tonight at 7 p.m.”

“Why’s it so late in the evening?”

“I haven’t got a clue. Did you get an invite?”

“I don’t think so. Let me check…” Kagesawa shook his head and started to pick on the frayed edge of his sleeve. Apparently, whatever this was for, they’d excluded him.

“Why would they review me? Did I do something?” If anyone, the likelier candidate should have been Kagesawa… but even then… why? No matter Kagesawa’s questionable hobby, hadn’t he been extra careful about not breaking any laws? And, with the link this crisp, surely Harumine would have been able to tell if he’d lied about something. “Did you do something?”

“Not that I know of.” Kagesawa shrugged.

“Well, I guess we’ll find out soon enough. I’d better get going so I won’t be late.” With a doubled sense of dread, Harumine hurried to get dressed.