[AMINOKAGE]

Only way to make head or tail of it was to find out what that program was. And in order to do that, I had no choice but to upload it somewhere and then run it.
What I needed whas a net-isolated, reformatted hard disk.
I knew where to find just that: Baron Zero’Virtual Lounge had been the place to go for me on such cases.
Me and Baron Zero had an agreement of sorts: he identified for me all hot programs, and I kept a blind eye non the not-so legal softwares one could find in his premises.

The Virtual Lounge was in the south of the city, not far from the industrial zone.
Once the neighborhood had had a name too, now it was known just as Freakville.
Everything there seemed to be calculated to let your head spin off: the acid neon signs, the hard music you could hear aloud in the streets, in whose dark corners, impossibly pierced punkboys chatted amiably with glitterhos, scantly older, or even younger than themselves. Too often it was’n even much clear who was offering what to whom, and in exchange for what.
A bunch of purple-haired teens loudly burst out of a karaoke parlor. One of them clinged on me before I had time to react and kissed me.
I explored her hips’ shape more because, in that ’hood, not doing so woud have marked me as weird, but I wasn’t really in the mood for anything, so I suddently pushed her away and went on my business. She took a moment to glance backat me before disappearing again after her friends.
I checked whether I still had my purse and blackberry, but I knew there was no need; I even felt my inner voice chiding me for my diffidence.

I found Baron Zero in a very high mood. the place was fullof people, and business was going pretty well, expecially black business.
He patted me overfriendly on the shoulder, suggesting that I should try one of his latest simulations; –I’m here for work– I answered.
–Ah, really?– the Baron suddenly turned suspicious –What kind?
–I’ve a program, right here…– I started in a deliberately elusive way.
–A program such as...?– the Baron’s voice turned to whisper as his eyes closed to slits.
–That’s what I’d like to find out– I replyed.
–Ah Ya wanna me to identify it? T’at’s gonna costyer some…
–No matter– I told him with nonchalance –I can pay. Or, my client can.
–And who would yer client be?– Baron Zero came closer, rubbing his hands togrther as he was sniffing easy money.
–Princess Kaguya!– I mocked him.
–Yer jerkin’ me ’roun’?– the Baron grunted –Princess Kaguya is a fairy tale!
–Yeah, but according to the fairy tale, the old man who took the princess in, found gold every time he went to the forest to cut bamboo! I’ve been cutting some bamboo myself… here’s what I've found!– this saying, I shoved a roll of banknotes in his hand.
–Where’s th’ program?– the Baron asked after counting the money a few times.
I handed him an E-key, warning him that for all I knew there could be a virus on it, so he’d better handle it with care.
–Is it only copy?– the Baron asked me.
–Would’t have given it to you without making another copy first!– I told him –And be warned, if it’s indeed a virus and you shoot it on the Net, the WholeWideWorld’ll know you did it, faster than you can even say it!
–Awrigh’, don’ git all hotwired!– the Baron grunted –I’ll take a scan o’ it ’n’ letcha know…
A couple of diys later, I recieved a V-mail from Baron Zero; when I made ito to the lounge however, he was rather confused.
–Wha’ the heck ya gave me?– he groaned as soon as he saw me.
–You should tell me– I shrugged –I paid you to identify it, remember?
–’ell, I…– Baron Zero stammered.
Seemed like I had managed to get the upper hand on him, but he was not the one to willingly admit it so easily.
–I’ve nev’r seen a program like this one!– he huffed –An’, damn, I’ve seen a lot…
–All right, don’t go ballistic– I replied –just tell me what you got.
Baron Zero pushed a couple of bottons and the porn pixes on his monitor changed into a long text only file.
–Ya kno’ wha’ t’ose are?– he asked me.
–Course I do…– I answered, almost annoyed by his question’s obviousness –these are codelines!
–Three outta four ah’t’ese codelines make no dam’ sense– the Baron gruffed –or, if’em make, ain’t writ in any lingo ah know or kin find in any book!
–Drunken programmer?– I offered.
–Weh, no… maybe it’s a very specific software, made ta work onna dedicated Intranet only…– azzardò guessed the Baron –Ah’ll say, whoever did such a t’ing, either’s a genius or he’s jus’ plain mad!
–That much’s for sure!–I conceded.
–’nyway– the Baron went on –t’at li’l I managed ta identify, woul’ point ta software made in Japan.
–I thought Japan was in utter chaos after what happened!–I exclamed.
–Who isn’t?– the Baron gritted his theet –&Tha’s true, afta tha gov’nmen’ crumbled, the Yakuza and the Zaibatsus took a piece each a’wha’s left… but all in all, most japs ain’t any worse f’r wear’n us, ’n’ much bettar’n some!
I thanked the baron handing him some more banknotes, then got back into my car.
Don’t know why I was that much offset: all I wanted was to get far from Vancouver and into the woods north of the city, instead I got lost in the suburban Gray Lands. I went all the way accross them: the richer people’s Sprawl with its tony houses all alike, and the poor Sprawl, with its blocks of flats all alike; here and there I came into one of those corporate megachurches, with teir giant screens and Coca-Cola sponsored Sunday Services.
I reached the seashore; I left the car in a car park, nearly empty except for some shining chromed SUV.
I leaned on the rail staring the mainland, on the other side of the straits.
You are looking at the wrong side, the voice in my spirit whispered.
I turned, seeing nothing but the dark red of the setting sun behind the twin grays of the clouds and the concrete.
I reached for the flamelike sky, as if to grab the Sun, and just hen a bright flash of understanding crossed my mind: follow the flame, it said.
follow the flame.
I could’nt have known at the time, but the Sun himself had stretched back his hand to reach for mine.

I booked online a low-cost air ticket to Neo-Tokyo, and the cheapest accomodation I was able to find, which I supposed would be a three feet long, six feet wide berth in one of those crypt-hotel next to the airport.
I could’ve probably afforded better, but I had no idea of how long I’d have to stay there, and I didn’t want to lean on Princess Kaguya too much.
The plane landed on a small airstrip in the suburbs, dead inside the Sprawl. Already, just out of the airoport, by itself quite in disarray, the place’s squalor hit me in the stomach.
As luck would have it, my hotel wasn’t too far either (from the airport you could walk to it) and it was conveniently close to a subway station.

It was crypt-hotel, as I had imagined. Somehow reluctantly, I pushed my bag in what looked like a coffin, and crawled after it myself. I had to admit, it was rather cozy, once getting past the feeling of claustrophobia of the first few minutes. It was soundproofed as well, a not-so insignificant detail this close to an airport.
I tried to sit in the coffin, but I bumped my head against the ceiling. I switched the light on to visually explore my surroundings.
In my coffin I had a small encased wardrobe left to the bed, and a screen at the bottom, which had access to the net or a streaming connection to any radio or TV station I wished (I had the controls near my right hand). There even was a tiny, indipendent, shower-including bathroom. All this was self-contained in less than eighteen cubic feet. Living there and settling on an instant-ramen diet, I could have stayed in Neo-Tokyo for an indefinite amount of time.
Those were the good news; now for the bad. I was in a foreign country, I couldn’t speak the language very well, I had no idea whatsoever about who or what I was looking for, but I knew for a fact that I’d be looking for it in the world’s hugest and more densely populated metropolis.
But more to the point, I had certainly no enthusiasm about sleeping in a coffin and eating instant ramen for who knows how long!

I ventured out of the crypt-hotel out of the basic need to find food, and air and room along with it.
To my relief, I could find a minimarket and a sushi-bar not so far away. Both had clearly seen better days, but at least offered me a chance to satisfy my hunger for a reasonable price. I entered the bar, and pointed at one of the menu’s entries at random, since I couldn’t read japanese anyway. The woman at the counter handed me a steamy bowl, in which some fishy thingies gave me the impression to be still swimming in the soup. Whitnessing my clumsy attempts at using chopsticks, the woman took a small plastic fork out of nowhere and passed it to me out of pity. My trying to thank her only made me look clumsier; I went back to my fish soup. So I was to have made a complete fool of myself, that I was half thinking to hide my face in the bowl.

When I came out of the sushi-bar, darkness had come. Dinner had not been much to my liking, and the idea to crawl in my ersatz coffin again was even less enticing. Suddently, I felt someone tap on my shoulder.
–Gaijinyo! (Hey, foreigner!)
I turned around.
–What do you want, brat?
I couldn’t understand a word of what she said, nor I cared too much to try. I made it back to my hotel, got into the coffin out of sheer exaustion, and simply fell asleep.

The following day I hit the Net for Japan’s major companies, looking for one with enough resources, know-how and a reason to create an encoded dedicated intranet.
My research bore no fruit.
In dire need of stretching my legs, I came out of my crypt, but before I could get past the hotel’s lobby, I bumped into the girl from the previous evening. She was wearing a navy-blue dress which was, I then realized, some school uniform.
–Konnichi wa, Gai-sama!– she addressed me with a bow.
–Nani? (What?)
–I said: Good morning, Honourable Foreigner!– in a horribly accented English.
–Yeah, I got that much– I replied in a horribly accented Japanese –but what’s your business with me?
–You’re not from around here– she chuckled –you may need someone to show you around the place...
I shrugged.
–And what’s in it for you?
She laughed even louder, and I believed to understand.
It happened more and more often in the Sprawl, and not only in Japan anymore: schoolgirls, even very young ones, giving themselves up for sex in exchange for trendy clothes, shoes and other expansive stuff, or even just for the kick it gave them. In Neo-Tokyo they were very euphemistically known as otome, meaning "maidens". Some however, expecially the staunch traditionalists, used for them the far less benign term gaisenshoujo, which can be roughly translated as "little foreign-shaggers".
I declined her offer and opted to hit the Sprawl’s gray wastes of urban decay on my own. It turned out as a less than smart move, cause I soon got lost in the chaotic maze of alleys. I don’t know how long I walked about aimlessly, before being tapped on the shoulder again. I turned in a nervous jump, and I found myself facing my otome. she was glaring at me with a mocking smile, as if to say "told you so".
We managed to understand each other somehow halfway between her English and my Japanese: I found out that her name was Erimi, and that she was fourteen. she also said she was no mere gaisenshoujo, insisting to call herself a michi no bushiko instead.
–A "street warrioress"?– I loughed –Yeah, sure...
In the wink of an eye she took me back in front of my hotel.
–Uh... Arigato, Erimi-san...– I murmured attempting a bow of sort.
She bowed back and disappeared.

As unwilling as I was to admit it, Erimi’s help was invaluable to me in the next few days. shortly, thanks to her, I could not only find my way in the bowels of Neo-Tokyo’s Sprawl, but it started to feel somehow more familiar. She showed me a couple more places where I could eat without spending much, as well as a laundry; she also taught me how to boil rice and make some simple dishes (she even tried to teach me to use chopsticks, but I’d rather not to talk about it).
She warned me of the zones to avoid, cause they were on some gang’s turf, and finally, she helped me as far as she could in my inquiry, undaunted by the still scarce progress.
It was like she came out of thin air every time I needed her, and not only then. Once, while taking my laundry from a coin-operated machine, another girl, heavy make-up on her face, wildly painted nails and an half unbottoned school uniform, brushed me up, asking me whether I fancied a go with her into a lovebox. I hardly had any time to say a thing, because Erimi, out of nowhere, jumped at her throat and beat her down hard on the ground calling her rude names; she then wiped her lipstick off with her own sleeve and ordered her to get away, threatening that "This foreigner is under my protection, and if I catch you around him again, I’ll hit you to death!"
–I am so very sorry, I did not know that he was yours!– the other one bowed deeply, then ran away in tears.
I was shoked, not so much by what I had seen, a thing not quite unusual in the Sprawl, but by knowing to have in some way caused it, although unintentionally.
On my way back to the hotel, Erimi followed me from a short distance, looking down in silence, nearly as if she had been on the recieving end of the beating rather than delivering it.
–Gai-sama?– she called to me while I was crossing the threshold.
I turned to look at her.
–You didn’t speak a single word to me since before, Gai-sama...– she stared at me misty-eyed –did I somehow offend you?
–How can you be a raging tiger one moment, and a trembling kitten a heartbeat later?– I retorted.
Erimi suddently jumped back, as if I had slapped her.
–Listen...– I tried on a sweeter note –why don’t you go home? Your parents must be worried...
–The Sprawl is my home– she retorted –and my parents... do not exist!
–Are they dead?– I asked.
–They do not exist!– Erimi hissed, clenching her fists –I am a michi no bushiko! Supurouru no senshi! (a Sprawl fighter).
She screamed that in my face before running away.

During the following days, Erimi wasn’t anywhere to be found. I felt as if I had abandoned her. The voice in my spirit was yelling at me that I had failed to understand her properly, that I had disappointed, even betrayed her. I tried to concentrate solely on my inquiry, but without her I was back at being a stranger in a strange land; furthermore, everytime I was wandering the Sprawl, or surfing the Net, or just laying in my coffin, her angry, sad eyes kept coming on the top of my mind. Until someday, as I sat on a bench in a concrete grove, reading thru my notes for the Nth time, she again appeared before me, seemingly from nowhere, tough and proud like a samurai in a school uniform. –Gai-sama!– she stiffened in a nearly soldierlike fashon. –Nani?– I answered just as stiff as her. Actually, the very fact that she was there, gave me an imbarassed relief, which I was trying to hide maybe from myself, rather than from her. –I have collected some... information– she answered –I believe it might be of use to you! She put me up to date about a sudden bout of gang wars in some neighborhoods in the Sprawl, all in the outskirts of a part of the city controlled by a Zaibatsu called Maima-Shirami. The name wasn’t new to me: in fact, it was in my notes. Maima-Shirami had become one of the first multinationals of informatic and net technology in the Pacific area, after the Microsoft bankrupcy; its systems, hardware and software both, were extremely advanced. In the last few months, its share of the market had grown incredibly larger, due to a row of concurrent companies cracking and being taken over soon after that. –How did you discover this?– I asked. –Supurouru no Senshi!– her hardened answer was. But then she lowered her eyes and, almost unwillingly she added –However... I have learnt many things from you as well... Gai-sama! I looked at her as if for the first time. –Gomen nasai, Erimi-chan...– I told her – you did very good... She was all alight with joy. –Arigato, Gai-sama! I accept your apologies!

Maima-Shirami’s corporate district was as large as a small city; a thick wall, made of steel and cement, with barb wire atop it and armed guards all around it, cut the place off from the Sprawl.
In Nordamerica we were no strangers to those gated or "protected" communities (Which, in spite of their names could offer no protection at all; in fact they helped spread the sprawl they were trying to run from) but this was beyond anything I had ever seen.
Just like Erimi had found out, all the gang wars had erupted almost at the same time in distant parts of the Sprawl, all of which had noting in common apart bordering the company-owned land. The police never being able of patrolling the Sprawl as it’d need be, either cause of corruption, lack of personnel and resources or simply because of basic survival instinct joined with a dose of good sense, had "forced" Maima-Shirami to take the situation into its own hands and finance a few mercenary armed units to "re-estabilish some law and order". This way, wider and wider urban areas had passed under the company’s "protection".
Meanwhile, many small Maima-Shirami competitors had suddenly filed bankrupcy cases, due to unexplained system-wide cascade failures in their hardwares and softwares, only to be taken over soon afterwards.
comparing notes between Erimi and me, we came to conclude that the corporate mercenaries were probably going to converge toward a single neighborhood, whose inhabitants called Akamu no Meikyou (Nightmarish labyrinth).
–Judging on what you told me, Iersquo;d gather their plan is to push all the thugs there. But why not just occupy and take control of it like they did with the others?
–It’s not that simple– Erimi replied –Akamu no Meikyou is the turf of some big Yakuza boss by the name of Daitamagawa-dono (The Great Tama River’s Lord).
From where I was sitting, it looked like I was between the proverbial rock and a hard place: the gangsters wouldn’t have left the corporate mercs take their turf without a fight.
Princess Kaguya didn’t pay me enough to get involved into a war.
I Considered the option to go back to Vancouver.

That night I had a strange dream.
In it I saw Sprawl, an immense concrete island floating above an endless abyss.
I saw a woman too: she stood between the sky and the asphalt, and her feet didn&rsquot;t touch the ground.
I just somehow knew that she was Princess Kaguya.
Her face was as pale as the Moon, and her eyes crystal-clear.
She wore a gold-emboidered silk kimono; on it, the image of a red dragon wrapped itself all around her body in a spyral-like fashon. It was no mere decoration either; instead, it looked like a living thing.
Her long, long hair, combed in a very elaborate way, had gold and silver reflections.
She held her hand raised, palm down, above the city, almost as if, with that gesture alone, she could prevent it to sink even deeper into chaos.
She glanced at me, but in that very moment I heard a gunshot.
A red spot of blood grew wider on her chest.
–Please... do not abandon me!– the Princess stretcher her hand to reach for me, but I was non fast enough to take it.
I saw her falling down, as the building started to crumble.
I coud hear Erimi’s voice below me, screaming for help.
I awoke, sweating and trembling, inside my coffin.
I felt my blackberry vibrate, must’ve forgotten to switch it off.
–I deeply ask your forgiveness for calling you in the dead of the night, Gai-sama...– Erimi’s broken voice came to me –You must think me a fool... but I...
–You just had a nightmare?– I interrupted her.
–How do you...?
I traced the call by connecting the blackberry to my own cybernetic brain. It came from a public internet access booth.
–Erimi... Stay right where you are, I’m coming!
When I met her, she was standing in the middle of a deserted road.
She ran into me as soon as she saw me, throwing her arms around my neck desperately.
I asked her to tell me her dream and shivered: It was exactly the same as mine.
On the spot, I thought some webrunner could have hacked my cyberbrain and put a simxperience in it, but Erimi had no cyberbrain, so she could not have been hacked and how we could have dreamt the same thing was a frightening puzzle.
We tried to give each other courage, to find something that prevented terror from overwhelming the both of us... but what?
The answer was given to me by Erimi herself.
–Gai-sama... I’ve never needed a drink so badly!
I tried to object, but I had no foothold.
Erimi had grown up during the Chaotic years of the Aftershock: "Underage" was just a word for her.
Beside, after that, anyone could have used a drink.
I brought her in a bar that would be redundant to call seedy (it was in the Sprawl, enough said).
The place was full of leather clad street thugs and of otomes, mostly unclad though some would wear an uniform similar to Erimi’s. From time to time a couple of them would disappear into the crypt-like loveboxes on the lower floor.
The waiter, a scrawny looking boy not much older than Erimi, tried and failed to look tough sporting a pierced punk look. He put his chest out as soon as he saw her.
–Two beers!– Erimi glanced at him despisingly.
the boy came back carrying two tankards. Erimi grabbed one and gulped down a mighty drop, then glanced at me slamming it on the table.
–It’s cool if nothing else, though I’ve tasted better!– she said.
She glanced at the waiter sideways: –You still here?
The boy disappeared.
Between drops, we started chatting like any two old drinking pals would.
–Gai-sama– she said at some point –we’ve known each other for a while now, and I still don’t know your name...
–It’s Dyrew– I answered–Kyle Dyrew.
–Sounds likeDairyu...– Erimi murmured –that would mean "Great Dragon" in Japanese...
–Funny– I mused –I think I have some welsh ancestors...
–My last name isTetsubara– Erimi went on –meaning "Steel Rose"...
–Oh, really?– I smiled–A fitting name for a Sprawl survivor!
Around the end of her first tankard, Erimi began to act strange, or rather, normal for a girl of fourteen. She was giggling wildly, and she had stopped calling me Gai-sama and switched to Ryuchan that sort of means dragon dearling.
Before I knew it, I was calling her Eri.
–Ryuchan, I was jus’ think-ing...
–Yeah?
–We’ caught between two fires, we not? Maima-Shirami, on a side, Yakuza on the ot’her...
–Maima-Shirami ’s too big not to have some hole in its defense– I reassured her –the trick’s to find them...
–Seems easier to me to infiltrate Daitamagawa-dono’s organization– Erimi replied.
–I don’t think so...– I objected –no one could come close onough to a Yakuza boss...
–An otome could!– she looked at me straight in the eyes –I’d be perfect as a spy...
–Eri, you drunk or what?– I bursted –You’re fourteen!
–That’s why there’s a better chance that he may like me– Erimi replied with a spine-chilling coldness.
–Nothing stays pure in the Sprawl!– she steely contered my further objections –It would give me no pleasure at all, but I wouldn’t bear it if something bad happened to you...
–I appreciate your kindness, Eri-chan– I answered –but I can take care of myself!
I wrote my account’s code on a piece of paper and I handed it to Erimi, along with my coffin’s magnetic key.
–Wait for me there– I said –If I don’t come back within two days you can keep the money... should be enough for awhile.
I rose and left before she could reply, but she ran after me.
–Let me help you!
I did not answer.
–Why don’t you want me?– she protested.
–Same reason as you– I told her –I don’t want anything bad to happen to you!
–You offend me! Are you implying that I cannot take care of myself? I am...
I unexpectedly turned to face her.
–A warrioress?– I said. –That I am!– she replied staunchily. –Do you follow Bushido?
Erimi clasped her fists.
–That I do– she endured –In honor and in truth!
–Then– I retorted with all the solemnity I could manage –do as your master bids!
Erimi stopped cold.
She shut her eyes angrily.
–Kuso... (Shit...)– she hissed. Then she bowed.

I found myself loosing a lot of my self-assurance, when a Maima-Shirami chopper machine-gunned me into a narrow escape.
Gotta admit, for a moment there, I wondered whether Erimi had come out with the wisest plan.
However, I had found what I was looking for: a back access into the drainage system, going beyond the Maima-Shirami’s outer wall and leading inside the corporate district.
Back at the hotel, Erimi was lying in the coffin, still wearing her uniform.
She hastily wiped her tears when she saw me thru the window, and pushed the open button.
Instead of coming out, she moved further inside and made a sign for me to come in.
–Don’t you ever do it again!– she pushed her forehead against my chest, weeping –To lie alone... in this... this cursed grave... wondering whether you’re going to return... it’s Hell!
With a sigh, I caressed her hair.
–Eri-chan... are all Japanese girls as mature as you?
–Not so– she answered, clawing at my good arm –western people are the childish ones...

An abandoned flat in the Sprawl, two rooms, a bathroom, a tiny kitchen, stolen electricity and no heating; a futon thrown in a corner.
That was di Erimi’s home, or better, her shelter.
Hanging on a wall by two big mismatched nails, was a boken, a wooden sword, and it looked like it had seen some real fight. Erimi had engraved, with extreme care, her own name in kanji.

After so much time in the coffin, even that place looked like a suite at the Hilton to me.
–I think I should be able to get in easy enough through that pipeline, if I’m careful...– I was explaining my plan to her –I’ll need your help to hack into the E-lock, buth after you do that, you MUST promise me that you’ll come back here straightaway.
–All right, I’ll do that...– Erimi replied through her theet –but only if you too promise to come back... you swear it!
According to Japanese lore, we locked our little fingers together, and called the Gods to whitness our pact.
I had never invocked any gods whatsoever before then. I listened to what I have referred to as "my spirit&rsquos voice", that much was true, è vero, quella che ho chiamato la voce del mio spirito, but I had never been fully conscious of it. I had always held religion as a corporate megachurch thingie, or some Sprawl junkies’; but the light I saw in Erimi’ eyes just then, made me think that, if there were any Gods at all, at least one of them must look like a girl in a school uniform.

To disable the maintenance lock was an easy enough gig, but it’d have taken time. Erimi’s job was to warn me if a Maima-Shirami patrol came too close.
Standing there boken in hand, like an undaunted sentinel, she might even have looked tough and menacing, buth we both knew that a simple wooden sword couldn’t have done much against the corporate mercs.
Finally the device gave in. Erimi made a sign to go.
–Soon as I’m in, put the panel back in its place, then scoot. Go home, and stay there till I’m back. Dig it?
Erimi nodded.
I crawled into the pipe, down in the drains. From there, I got into the old subway’s abandoned tunnels, miles and miles of an endless maze (within myself I thanked the cybertechie who installed a GPS in my brain). I went on toward the corporate district, wondering if Theseus felt the same as me. The irony wasn’t lost to my spirit’s voice.
Part of the tunnels had been sealed off; I had to take a wide turn before finding an opening, and when I did, it was protected by another key-coded lock. A quick scan revealed me that to open the door wouldn’t have been too tricky, but not to set off a load of alerts would. It took me the better part of an hour to offline the damn stuff.
Once in, my instinct made me look for sensors and surveillance cameras; I found many, and to hack into the whole system and force it not to register my presence was no walk in the park either.
The further I went in, the tighter surveillance was, and that made me wonder what was there that they wanted to protect or to hide so bad. Thamks to my ability as a webrunner however, the system couldn’t get a lock on me. I could have infiltrated the place with no sweat, and get out before anyone noticed.
Had I not been so busy patting myself on the back, I may have heard my spirit screaming to warn me. Instead I got thrown down as if slapped by a giant’s hand.
–What the...
I felt something come fast at me; I got out of its way just in time not to be hit, although there was nothing I could see. I switched my vision on sensory implement, but all I got was statics.
I was leaking blood and synthetic coolant, as if something had been clawing at me.
"That’s impossible" I thought "What coul rip even thru the implants?"
~LOOK OUT!~ I heard a voice scream,not in my spirit this time, but in my cybernetic brain.
~WhO aRe YoU?~ I asked on the same channel.
~WATCH YOUR LEFT!~
I jumped un the right while a heavy pice of machinery that was behind me got trashed.
A woman somersaulted in front of me, punched the air several times with innatural speed, jumped fifteen feet high and high-kicked absolutely nothing.
She must clearly have had implants too:no mere human could move like that.
She landed not far from me, whispering something. An evanescent glow filled the room, and the thing she was fighting against turnedvisible.
Truth to tell, I’d have been more confortable had I not seen it: I think no words can describe a horror like that.
–Whatever`s that... thing?– I impulsively wanted to know.
–It’s a Keeper!– the woman replied.
I shot every last bullet at it. I’d swear I heard a distant, chilling laugh, like some frightening dream’s echo.
–A keeper of what?
~Of ThE uNdErWoRlD! DoN’t LeT iT nEaR, oR iT wILI TeAr YoUr SpIrIt To PiEcEs!~
I wondered how could such a thing like spirit be torn to pieces and appearently the monter decided to show me how.
It grappled me, and I felt like all the pain and sorrow that ever existed between the ends of Eternity was running trough my body.
My inner voice, broken and dying, was urging me to temember my promise; Erimi’s face appeared behind my eyes.
I gathered all my strenght and looked stright in the monster’s own eyes... or the pitch-black, starless cosmic emptiness that passed for its eyes.
I screamed.
I saw that being fade and dissolve, like a stormcloud in a gale.
The woman held me up.
–You defeated it! You’re good!
I felt empty and defenseless.
–Whatever was that? where the hell did it come from?
–Not "Hell", Darkness– my resquer answered –the Realm of the dead, beyond Reality as we know it...
I gulped.
–Then... how did it get here?
–A good question...– she agreed –somebody must’ve evocked it, obviously... but who, an more importantly... why?
–You sound like you face the like of those everyday...– I murmured.
–I do!– she replied.
–You are... who are you anyway?
–I’m an aminokage– the woman answered casually, like I should have known what she was talking about –I’m here for the same reason that you are. Thanks for disabling the surveillance system by the way...

Of the two demons I had to face that day, the less frightening was the Keeper.
–Who the fuck is this bitch?– Erimi hissed.
–Chill out, gal– the mysterious woman came to my rescue, again –I Ain’t gonna steal him from you!
–You better not!– Erimi answered treathingly.
The woman burst into laughter, playfully messing Erimi’s hair up.
–What a charming little slutie! She reminds me of me at her age!
For those of you unfamiliar with Sprawl slang, "slutie" is an endearment. Erimi however, didn’t appreciate it one bit; on the contrary, she brusquely slapped off her supposed rival’s hand.
–I did not allow you to address me so informally!– she roared.
–Eri-chan... Onegai (please)...– I panted (I felt like I was burning inside).
Erimi stared at me for some long moment as her expression grew more and more alarmed.
–Wha... what happened to you?– she asked me –You look terrible!
She drew my lagging form in front of the bathroom’s mirror. I saw myself paler than I had ever been, and I had such shadows under my eyes that it looked like I hadn’t slept in years.
stammering, I told Erimi of my dreadful experience.
She turned nearly as pale and hugged me. Then she ran back to the mysterious woman and thanked her with the deepest bow I ever saw her doing, adding her humblest apologies for her rude behavior.
The woman made a few steps toward the boken hung on the wall to read the ideograms carved on it, but she carefully avoided to touch it.
–Being a stranger in Tetsubara-san’s home, it is for my humble person to apologize to Tetsubara-san– She bowed back.
Formal Japanese wasn’t heard in the Sprawl very often, and indeed the woman wasn’t accostumed to use it.
–Accept my humble ospitality then– Erimi couldn’t help but soften when sombebody older showed such respect to her.
–I would offer you some tea– she added –but...
Erimi glanced sadly at a can near the sinker, whose label read "green tea" and which contained a screwdriver, a cutter and a pencil instead.

A few minutes later, the three of us were sitting on the floor, sipping beer and coffee.
–I’ve long Suspected that Maima-Shirami used dark magiks to sabotage competitors– The mysterious woman explained while she opened a beer –I ran into you two by chance... when I saw you enter the maintenance pipeline, I thought best to follow.
–How come I didn’t see you?– I sighed grabbing my cold canned coffee.
–What you did to the security system, I did to your mind– she answered. I wanted to rebel against that, say that she could never have hacked my cybernetic brain unnoticed, but, as if reading my mind, she spoke first.
–I didn’t hack your cyberbrain, I shrouded your human senses in an illusion.
–Ah... using magic, I immagine!– I grinned.
–If you’re too smart to believe in magik, would you care to explain that?– the woman pointed at the gash the Guardian had left on me and gulped some more beer.
Erimi too looked at me reproachingly, as if challenging me to explain what she knew I couldn't.
–Can you tell how your cyberbrain workings?– the woman went on –Guess not, even if you use it everyday. Actually, nobody knows exactly even how an unenhanced human brain works... can you define "Intelligence? Do you know what "Thougt" really is?
I had to concede that such philosophic questions were a tad beyond me.
–An intelligence shaping matter is what Magik is– the woman kept explaining. –When Magik and matter become one instead, Life is born. And when Life becomes self-aware, that is, understands Magik, Conscience emerges. (Erimi-san, where’s the empty cans’ place?)
Erimi trew her beer in a corner.
–There!– she answered.
the woman trew her tin can next to Erimi’s and opened another.
–Cybernetics’ aim’s to create Artificial Intelligence– the woman explained on –but there’s no such thing as "Artificial" Intelligence really... It’s simply Magik into metal, rather than into flesh. Thought is data, the whole Universe is but a system, and a spell is just a program instructing the System on what to do...
–If a spell is a program– I ventured –could it be sent by mail as, say... an attached file?
–Sure it can...
I showed her what I had recieved from Princess Kaguya.
–It’s a spell all right...– she assured me after but a glance –these are no simple codelines, they’re encoded enchantments.
–And what does it do?– Erimi asked.
–Cannot say without a beta-test...– the woman answered –for all I know, could be what they used to evoke the Keeper...
the notion of a program able to evoke such abominations from some Abyss of Darkness, filled my whole being with terror.
I cursed.
I trew my unemptied can of coffee with the others and sprang up, not thinking of any particular place to go.
NO, DON’T! Erimi, the mysterious woman and my spirit’s voice, that I could now recognize for what it was, all screamed to me.
I felt something similar to the Keeper’s grab, and I thought I heard a noise from an infinite distance, like shattered glass, whose shards were all piercing the core of my being.
I fell to the ground, face down.
–Damn!– the mysterious woman jumped on her feet –The Keeper must’ve done a lot more damage than it looks! Help me lying him down on the futon!

A warm, wet darkness, ripe with unknown smells, was broken only by moonlight and the neon signs out of the window.
Around me I could half-see the leftovers of candles, incense and stuff I couldn’t name.
I was Hungry and mildly in pain.
–Erimi?– I called out –Eri-chan?
–You’re awake, finally!– I heard the mysterious woman’s voice –You slept nearly two days!
The light was on all of a sudden, and Erimi appeared at the door, barefooted and half-dressed.
–He’s awake?– she cried, and run to embrace me.
–How do you feel?– she inquired.
–Like crap...– I replied–but I guess I could’ve been worse.
–You’re very strong– the mysterious woman sounded sincerely impressed –You did good too, Erimi...
–Oh, no...– Erimi giggled and turned pink –I could never have made it without you... Sensei!
The woman frowned, as if unhappy to be called "Teacher".
–What really happened here?– I wanted to know.
–Nothing that words can explain...– the woman murmured –But I believe it was more than chence that made us meet... there’s a reason wy we’re here now, you, me, even Erimi...
–You’re the expert– I said.
–Comes natural– she ran a hand thru her hair –I’ve been into this stuff since before the Shockwave...
–Before the Shockwave?– I ventured –How old were you, fifteen?
The woman suddenly turned darker.
–I...– she murmured –wasn’t much older than Erimi when I started... I’ve been a Sprawl fighter even before there was any Sprawl to speak of. We were the first, everything began with us...
–You mean there were more?– Erimi intervened.
The woman closed her eyes as if to recall painful memories.
–There were five of us. We called ourselves the Bishoujo Sailor Senshi...
–The Sailor Scouts?– Erimi’s eyes widened –You were a Sailor Scout?
–I’ve heard of them– I ventured again –but I believed they were some urban legend, like Gremlins or white gators in the sewers...
–I've no intel about white gators– the woman warned me –but Gremlins do exist!
–Which one of them were you?– Erimi pressed her on –Sailor Mars? Sailor Mercury? Or maybe...
–I was Sailor Venus!– the woman cut the questions short –Feels like a lifetime ago... my real name, I haven’t used it in years, is... or used to be... Minako Aino...
–You are Minako Aino?– I couldn’t believe it –I still have all your songs!
–You mean both?– Minako grinned –Does somebody still remember that I used to be a singer?
–Are you kidding?– I replied –I just loved you in high school!– (Erimi glared at me) –Could it really be you?
To chase any doubt, Minako started to sing. I had to stop myself before doing something stupid like ask for her autograph.
–Well– I sighed –What are the odds?
–Odds got nothing to do with it!– Minako exclaimed –There is a bond between us, as I thought!
–A bond?– my skepticism was being replaced by curiosity in spite of me –What could that be?
Minako bit her lips.
–Our past lives, maybe?
–Aaaaah, cool!– Erimi exclaimed.
–Cool...– I repeated not as convinced.

A cold, dry darkness, like a spectre’s embrace.
I looked beiond the rail on the edge of the roof. Many floors under me, the Sprawl laid.
The acid colored flashing lights only made the endless shadows look darker: the decaying building, the scream of the syrens, a shoot in the distance. The Yakuza, the Zaibatsus and the otomes.
Yet, as gloomy as the Sprawl was, what was hidden under the Sprawl was many times more synister.
I shivered, even after reducing the sensory feedback.
The moonlight looked like a web of silvery threads desperately holding on to the Gray Waste, keeping it from sinking further down.
–What are you doing up here all alone?– Minako appeared unnoticed behind me.
–Thinking...– I looked away from her, at the Sprawl. She leaned on the rail and stared at the same direction, in the distance.
–What happened at the Sailor Scouts?– I asked out of the blue.
–We failed– Minako answered grudgily –We let darkness overwhelm us. Nothing stays pure in the Spraw...
I turned my back at the Gray Waste to look at the Moon.
–Erimi said the same thing... but I think she’s wrong...
Minako Looked at me puzzled.
–There must be something untainted left... maybe that’s what binds us.
Minako laughed, a bitter and broken laugh, almost an effort to hold fast onto that part of her still free of taint.
–You know– she suddenly smiled–Erimi wants to cook sukiyaki...to celebrate our meeting and your recovery...
–Sukiwhat?– I said, puzzled.
–Minced beef with mushrooms and veggies... a special occasion dish, you know...
–Can she make it?
–I don’t know– Minako replied –but if she can find all the ingredients in the Sprawl, she’s even better a witch than me... speaking of witchcraft! I found out what that program does!
I shivered again, not for the cold.
–To evoke a Keeper?
Minako shook her head.
–Much worse... it’s a sort of mystic supervirus, able to infect any software or hardware, neutralizing any nonmagical protections... even the Neural Net wouldn’t be safe!
I cursed.
–It’s not enough to mail it, though... it needs some ritual to activate it. In theory, it could crash a whole informatic support system...
–Which explains the mysterious chain of malfunctions hitting the Maima-Shirami’ competitors...–I concluded.
Minako nodded.
I sighed.
I had discovered a whole different world: a world of Gods and Demons, black magik corporate hacking, warrior girls, E-mailed spells, princesses in distress, former Sailor scouts and, maybe, a cyborg knight.
I looked at my cybernetic arm. In the moonlight it shone like silver. I was hardly Round Table material, but in this day and age, an arm like that may be just right to protect a princess.