The Turn of the Screw. (i) Blue lights flashing, the panicked wail of sirens on an emergency call. A universal cry of fear, in the dark; patterned after a woman's scream. What was she afraid of? Okio shivered, who was she screaming for? Blue, black, blue, black: mirrored in windows, puddles, and strained faces. Illuminating in bursts that left you even blinder, once the dark returned. Water soaked into the edge of the blanket, Okio watched it spreading upwards, darkening the fabric. She repressed the analogy her brain tried to make. Get a grip, Junuchi! She scolded herself. He's not dead, or anything. Hasegawa lay cradled in her arms, his hair spilling out from under the hood she had constructed, from another corner of his covering. His face softened in the gloom, and sprang to harsh life in the glow. Gentle, cold, gentle, cold. Asleep, dead... No! Don't be silly, he's breathing - I've got a pulse! It was tempting to stroke those features, the fantasy of , `The Boss', needing you this badly, helpless and dependant on you. A delicious tremor tickled her spine, that was nothing to do with the rain-soaked pavement she was kneeling on. She stared intently into that face: craggy lines etching, and fading. Old, young, tense, peaceful. The passage of the light made a faint `whop'-ing sound in her ears as it passed over her. She was touching her idol, had him helpless, and quiescent. Why... I could do anything to you now. Say anything. You can't answer back - or laugh at me. She entertained a fantasy of his gratitude, and desire: after all you were there when I needed someone the most, and briefly knew the intoxication of power. She would never have this chance again, so she made the most of it, fending off all other officers' offers of help. No! Just for this brief space of time, I'm in charge! Too soon, but not really soon enough, for her moral comfort, the paramedics arrived. As other hands reached down to relieve her of her burden, she turned the full force of her hero-worship into one, long, gaze. At least this time she heard no whispered comments about her puppy-dog eyes, or saw others squirm at her adoring regard. You never mind me looking at you, I can tell. You like to be admired. The dampened blanket was handed back to Okio as the medics took him away from her, lifting him onto the stretcher, and strapping him down. Someone had wrapped him up like that, packaged him like a gift, for her to open. She hugged the material to her, already starting to shiver in the chill. "Don't worry, Sir", she whispered, "I'll be at the hospital as soon as I can." The medibed was floated up into the body of the emergency vehicle, and the doors were closed. It moved off, the scream of the mad-woman rising again, to pierce the early morning gloom. (ii) The man all the fuss was over lay, almost ignored by the medical staff, very still, too still. 1. The driver concentrated on the chaos of the roads, and the other two personnel took readings from Hasegawa's inert frame. They were busy discussing their findings, one whistled at the blood test results. "That's been some party! Look at this, he's going to be wall-eyed for days!" His partner chuckled. "Quiet fool! You never know when Mr. Big-Shot might come `round." She leant over to tighten the strapping, as the ambulance took a corner a little too sharply. She peered at the Dekacho more closely, something about his clothing didn't look right. "You know, Sam", she said hesitantly, "it almost looks like someone else dressed this guy..." Sam bent over gleefully, "Oh-ho! That sort of a party, was it? Anyway - how can you tell? For all you know he could just be the world's sloppiest dresser." He tweaked the corner of one lapel, bringing his neck perilously close to the still form. A hand that had been worked loose from the webbing, now shot out and grabbed him by the throat. Suddenly Samaki Ichibo found himself looking down into a pair of deranged eyes, and saw murder in them. OH SHIT! Just stay calm, Sammy-boy. Relax. Try to get some oxygen down that air-way. He managed to croak a little, around the restriction on his windpipe. "Mercy, Mercy. Tranq..." The fingers started to tighten inexorably, and the arm they were attached to began to shake Sam, to-and-fro. Mercy had a tranquilliser patch, but she couldn't get near enough to slap it on the back of their patient's hand. Sam bounced off of her, knocking her into the opposite wall, and loosening a rack of medical instruments. They fell, clattering, to the floor. As she tried to approach the struggle again, one rolled under her foot and she slipped - almost back-flipping into the front of the ambulance with Keiko. "What are you doing back there?" The driver demanded to know. She needed all her concentration for Oedo's roads, and a bar-room brawl in the back was not conducive to concentration. Mercy Tonokoii struggled her way back to the fight, there was crushed glass crunching underfoot now, expensive little noises of destruction. Sam was mottling badly, he could die soon if this loony wasn't sent under - and then the bastard would be coming after her, and Keiko! She could see him already struggling to free his other arm. Okay, girl. No time for false modesty. Mercy inched her way past the combat, at least Sam had managed to loosen the fingers a touch, (but he was having to use both hands), he looked like he was about ready to pass out. Mercy took her bearings, then - trying to allow for any sudden changes in ambulance speed, or direction - leapt astride Hasegawa. She slapped the sedative patch onto his neck, right over the vein carrying blood to his brain. GOTCHA! The girl scores a try! she thought triumphantly. He barely slowed, and the bucking of his hips nearly tossed her into the back doors. RIGHT. She snatched a second patch from her belt pouch. Let's see you shake this one off, Mr Koha. As she reached out Hasegawa tried to bite her exposed hands, Sam slapped weakly at the man's arms - trying to distract him. "Will you either finish fucking him, or get him to sleep, Mercy?" Keiko's voice on the intercom sounded irritated, and concerned, by turns. "Sam looks like he's had it!" Mercy had a sudden idea, she wrenched up the waistcoat, shirt, and vest to smack the patch forcefully down over his heart - holding it to push the drug deeper into his body. Come on. Come on. Work, you son-of-a... The patient's eyes widened and Mercy realised he was rubbing his erection up against her, actually lifting her into the air, from that position. Quite a record, attempted rape, and attempted murder - and he'd only been conscious for a few minutes. Slowly, the man's eyes began to close and, as he went under, Mercy could swear she heard him pleading, "No. Not again...", but his voice was too distant to be sure. Now she could devote her attention to Sam, who was valiantly trying to rediscover breathing. He was obviously going to be all right, judging by the way he was still able to shake his head incredulously, and wave away her ministrations with a shaky hand. Keiko's voice came back on-line. 2. "You want to get that insane, mother-fucker strapped down, Mercy? We're coming up on the hospital." Mercy hurried to comply, no sense in taking risks with this one. "Just what type of junkie have we picked up this time, Sam?" Ichibo gurgled - it could have been a snicker. "That's no druggie. That's the mad bastard who's in charge of the C-cops!" "Shit! We're doomed!" (iii) The medibed carried Hasegawa into the depths of the hospital. Medical staff coming in on the trot. Keiko's incoming message had been logged, and they'd been on alert since the Dekacho had gone missing. Of course, most people had imagined it would be the morgue that was needed when he was found - the call from the station that Dekacho Hasegawa was alive had provoked a whole new flurry of activity. Doctor Isu was already ordering up the equipment she might need. He'd been missing for three days, time enough for someone to do a very thorough job on him. She had the reconstructive surgeon on stand-by, assuming - because she liked to look on the bright side - that there would be something left to save. The crew hadn't mentioned the injuries, but apparently their charge had gone psychotic on the journey. "Probably some kind of PCP compound has been pumped into him. No telling what else either, have Sam's blood diagnostics sent to my hand-held." She leant over the trolley Hasegawa now rested on. "Hmmm. I can't see any immediate damage or scarring, this young man seems to be superficially intact. Now to find out the extent of his internal injuries, and just how much of his brain has been destroyed." She ordered up any array of pharmaceuticals, if the mysterious `they' had been after information it was likely they'd pumped too much sodium pentothal into him. She tsk-ed quietly to herself, as she ushered the attendants - and their burden - into an prognosis suite. An hour later Doctor Isu was more confused then she had been since medical school. Superficial bruising, minor cuts and abrasions, small infections, pulled muscles. The relaxant had caused her patient to urinate, that was when she had seen the blood. Buddha alone knew what damage that signified: it could be renal failure, bladder or intestinal damage... but the tests showed only an unusual lesion. Hardly noticeable. She had detected the presence of semen in his mouth, and throat, so she checked for other signs of rape. There were injuries to his anal passage, and bruising in erogenous areas, but again nowhere near as serious as she had seen before. The cocktail of drugs in his system was her biggest problem, and the most worrying aspect of this case - but she was gradually detoxifying his system, and cleansing the blood stream by dialysis. She should be able to bring him round soon, then maybe they could learn what had happened, and base their treatment accordingly. "Dekacho Hasegawa-san, are you awake?" Eyes moved beneath clenched lids. "You're safe in hospital. Can you hear me?" Slowly, warily, the man opened his eyes and looked about him. "Hello, I'm Doctor Isu. You've been a very unwell young man, you know, but you should be feeling a little better now. Do you think you're up to talking?" Hasegawa moistened his lips, "My throat feels like it's been sand-blasted." "Yes, we'd noticed the inflammation. We were hoping you would be able to shed a little light on that." He grunted, and tried to brush the hair out of his face. Hasegawa's features set rock still, and he turned his head slowly to stare in wonderment at the cuffs that held his arms against the bars of the cot. He turned that horrified, silent, gaze on the elderly woman sitting next to him, she 3. looked a little embarrassed. "I'm sorry, they were for our own protection. You attacked two members of my staff as you were on the way here - do you remember?" Hasegawa narrowed his eyes, thoughtfully, he had vague memories of being attacked. The smell of chemicals, laughing voices, someone singing. Doctor Isu carried on quite jovially, blissfully unaware of the torment she was causing her patient, "You nearly killed one of them - that's Sam Ichibo, you know?" Hasegawa winced. "Still, you weren't responsible for your actions, so no harm done. They had to sedate you, of course, and you'll feel the effects for a little while - but that'll all wear off soon. So - before your colleagues turn up to interview you - is there anything you'd like to tell me?" Hasegawa pondered, "Is the medic all right?" "Yes, yes, of course he is dear. Sam Ichibo is one of our most experienced staff members, he and his team have seen a lot worse. Remember the riots of 800?" Hasegawa nodded as she chortled merrily. "You only tried to strangle him - one rioter broke his arm in three places. Another did the same for his collar-bone, and dislocated his hip!" "I would still like to apologise to them personally." Buddha! The dear boy's blushing! "I'll tell them that Dekacho. Maybe, when you're a bit better, I'll send them up to see you." Hasegawa moved on the bed, trying to ease his cramped muscles. A sudden wave of pain left him breathless, "I ache all over." He glanced down at the hospital gown, and bedding. "Doctor, what're the injuries like?" She bent nearer to him. "Minor." His head snapped around to look her in the face. "OW ! FUCK !" "You can see now why I am confused. Those pulled muscles lead me to conclude that you were struggling against some kind of restraint, but there is no pattern of chaffing to identify the type involved, or how they were attached. You have some quite intimate injuries, but no worse than the average, overly-enthusiastic, love-bite. I don't suppose you were with someone before you went missing, were you?" Hasegawa shook his head slowly. "Oh dear. Semen was present in your throat, but I ran a DNA match, and it's your own." She watched his face, it was unreadable. Merciful bodhisattva. I can't even tell how you're taking this news. "You have a few mild infections, as well as injuries to your reproductive organs. It'll probably feel like you have cystitis for a while. The tissue in most of your delicate areas was very dry: mouth, nose, etcetera. Hence the infections. I think you've been on an intravenous drip, and possibly a colostomy bag." She noticed that he was staring over her shoulder... A dark figure stood behind the doctor. It wielded an old-fashioned hypodermic needle at least a metre long. As it stepped into the light he saw that it's features were obscured by a leather bondage mask. Colour started to flash at the corners of his vision, like to onset of a migraine. He shook his head - argh - and it was gone. When he opened his eyes again, the doctor was looking at him in a very concerned fashion. "Doctor Isu, I may have some information for you after all. I believe I have been held in a state of sensory deprivation for some period of time. I imagine I was found by someone, I don't think I called an ambulance for myself. The last coherent memory I have, is of getting into the elevator at the Oedo study centre with my shopping, on my way back to the section house. I seem to be still hallucinating." "Thank you Dekacho. Trust in me - I've been a doctor for a long time, since before you were born, I should imagine. I know my job - and now I have a better idea of what's wrong with you things should move quite quickly." But I'll have to read up on my medical notes - there aren't that many recent case-studies to go on. Hasegawa looked at her guardedly, "I don't remember anything. I'm missing so much..." 4. "Don't you fret now, young man", she soothed, "that's not a problem. No doubt it'll all come back to you in time. You never know - it might be that there's nothing to retrito that face: craggy lines etching, and fading. Old, young, tense, peaceful. The passage of the light made a faint `whop'-ing sound in her ears as it passed over her. She was touching her idol, had him helpless, and quiescent. Why... I could do anything to you now. Say anything. You can't answer back - or laugh at me. She entertained a fantasy of his gratitude, and desire: after all you were there when I needed someone the most, and briefly knew the intoxication of power. She would never have this chance again, so she made the most of it, fending off all other officers' offers of help. No! Just for this brief space of time, I'm in charge! Too soon, but not really soon enough, for her moral comfort, the paramedics arrived. As other hands reached down to relieve her of her burden, she turned the full force of her hero-worship into one, long, gaze. At least this time she heard no whispered comments about her puppy-dog eyes, or saw others squirm at her adoring regard. You never mind me looking at you, I can tell. You like to be admired. The dampened blanket was handed back to Okio as the medics took him away from her, lifting him onto the stretcher, and strapping him down. Someone had wrapped him up like that, packaged him like a gift, for her to open. She hugged the material to her, already starting to shiver in the chill. "Don't worry, Sir", she whispered, "I'll be at the hospital as soon as I can." The medibed was floated up into the body of the emergency vehicle, and the doors were closed. It moved off, the scream of the mad-woman rising again, to pierce the early morning gloom. (ii) The man all the fuss was over lay, almost ignored by the medical staff, very still, too still. 1. The driver concentrated on the chaos of the roads, and the other two personnel took readings from Hasegawa's inert frame. They were busy discussing their findings, one whistled at the blood test results. "That's been some party! Look at this, he's going to be wall-eyed for days!" His partner chuckled. "Quiet fool! You never know when Mr. Big-Shot might come `round." She leant over to tighten the strapping, as the ambulance took a corner a little too sharply. She peered at the Dekacho more closely, something about his clothing didn't look right. "You know, Sam", she said hesitantly, "it almost looks like someone else dressed this guy..." Sam bent over gleefully, "Oh-ho! That sort of a party, was it? Anyway - how can you tell? For all you know he could just be the world's sloppiest dresser." He tweaked the corner of one lapel, bringing his neck perilously close to the still form. A hand that had been worked loose from the webbing, now shot out and grabbed him by the throat. Suddenly Samaki Ichibo found himself looking down into a pair of deranged eyes, and saw murder in them. OH SHIT! Just stay calm, Sammy-boy. Relax. Try to get some oxygen down that air-way. He managed to croak a little, around the restriction on his windpipe. "Mercy, Mercy. Tranq..." The fingers started to tighten inexorably, and the arm they were attached to began to shake Sam, to-and-fro. Mercy had a tranquilliser patch, but she couldn't get near enough to slap it on the back of their patient's hand. Sam bounced off of her, knocking her into the opposite wall, and loosening a rack of medical instruments. They fell, clattering, to the floor. As she tried to approach the struggle again, one rolled under her foot and she slipped - almost back-flipping into the front of the ambulance with Keiko. "What are you doing back there?" The driver demanded to know. She needed all her concentration for Oedo's roads, and a bar-room brawl in the back was not conducive to concentration. Mercy Tonokoii struggled her way back to the fight, there was crushed glass crunching underfoot now, expensive little noises of destruction. Sam was mottling badly, he could die soon if this loony wasn't sent under - and then the bastard would be coming after her, and Keiko! She could see him already struggling to free his other arm. Okay, girl. No time for false modesty. Mercy inched her way past the combat, at least Sam had managed to loosen the fingers a touch, (but he was having to use both hands), he looked like he was about ready to pass out. Mercy took her bearings, then - trying to allow for any sudden changes in ambulance speed, or direction - leapt astride Hasegawa. She slapped the sedative patch onto his neck, right over the vein carrying blood to his brain. GOTCHA! The girl scores a try! she thought triumphantly. He barely slowed, and the bucking of his hips nearly tossed her into the back doors. RIGHT. She snatched a second patch from her belt pouch. Let's see you shake this one off, Mr Koha. As she reached out Hasegawa tried to bite her exposed hands, Sam slapped weakly at the man's arms - trying to distract him. "Will you either finish fucking him, or get him to sleep, Mercy?" Keiko's voice on the intercom sounded irritated, and concerned, by turns. "Sam looks like he's had it!" Mercy had a sudden idea, she wrenched up the waistcoat, shirt, and vest to smack the patch forcefully down over his heart - holding it to push the drug deeper into his body. Come on. Come on. Work, you son-of-a... The patient's eyes widened and Mercy realised he was rubbing his erection up against her, actually lifting her into the air, from that position. Quite a record, attempted rape, and attempted murder - and he'd only been conscious for a few minutes. Slowly, the man's eyes began to close and, as he went under, Mercy could swear she heard him pleading, "No. Not again...", but his voice was too distant to be sure. Now she could devote her attention to Sam, who was valiantly trying to rediscover breathing. He was obviously going to be all right, judging by the way he was still able to shake his head incredulously, and wave away her ministrations with a shaky hand. Keiko's voice came back on-line. 2. "You want to get that insane, mother-fucker strapped down, Mercy? We're coming up on the hospital." Mercy hurried to comply, no sense in taking risks with this one. "Just what type of junkie have we picked up this time, Sam?" Ichibo gurgled - it could have been a snicker. "That's no druggie. That's the mad bastard who's in charge of the C-cops!" "Shit! We're doomed!" (iii) The medibed carried Hasegawa into the depths of the hospital. Medical staff coming in on the trot. Keiko's incoming message had been logged, and they'd been on alert since the Dekacho had gone missing. Of course, most people had imagined it would be the morgue that was needed when he was found - the call from the station that Dekacho Hasegawa was alive had provoked a whole new flurry of activity. Doctor Isu was already ordering up the equipment she might need. He'd been missing for three days, time enough for someone to do a very thorough job on him. She had the reconstructive surgeon on stand-by, assuming - because she liked to look on the bright side - that there would be something left to save. The crew hadn't mentioned the injuries, but apparently their charge had gone psychotic on the journey. "Probably some kind of PCP compound has been pumped into him. No telling what else either, have Sam's blood diagnostics sent to my hand-held." She leant over the trolley Hasegawa now rested on. "Hmmm. I can't see any immediate damage or scarring, this young man seems to be superficially intact. Now to find out the extent of his internal injuries, and just how much of his brain has been destroyed." She ordered up any array of pharmaceuticals, if the mysterious `they' had been after information it was likely they'd pumped too much sodium pentothal into him. She tsk-ed quietly to herself, as she ushered the attendants - and their burden - into an prognosis suite. An hour later Doctor Isu was more confused then she had been since medical school. Superficial bruising, minor cuts and abrasions, small infections, pulled muscles. The relaxant had caused her patient to urinate, that was when she had seen the blood. Buddha alone knew what damage that signified: it could be renal failure, bladder or intestinal damage... but the tests showed only an unusual lesion. Hardly noticeable. She had detected the presence of semen in his mouth, and throat, so she checked for other signs of rape. There were injuries to his anal passage, and bruising in erogenous areas, but again nowhere near as serious as she had seen before. The cocktail of drugs in his system was her biggest problem, and the most worrying aspect of this case - but she was gradually detoxifying his system, and cleansing the blood stream by dialysis. She should be able to bring him round soon, then maybe they could learn what had happened, and base their treatment accordingly. "Dekacho Hasegawa-san, are you awake?" Eyes moved beneath clenched lids. "You're safe in hospital. Can you hear me?" Slowly, warily, the man opened his eyes and looked about him. "Hello, I'm Doctor Isu. You've been a very unwell young man, you know, but you should be feeling a little better now. Do you think you're up to talking?" Hasegawa moistened his lips, "My throat feels like it's been sand-blasted." "Yes, we'd noticed the inflammation. We were hoping you would be able to shed a little light on that." He grunted, and tried to brush the hair out of his face. Hasegawa's features set rock still, and he turned his head slowly to stare in wonderment at the cuffs that held his arms against the bars of the cot. He turned that horrified, silent, gaze on the elderly woman sitting next to him, she 3. looked a little embarrassed. "I'm sorry, they were for our own protection. You attacked two members of my staff as you were on the way here - do you remember?" Hasegawa narrowed his eyes, thoughtfully, he had vague memories of being attacked. The smell of chemicals, laughing voices, someone singing. Doctor Isu carried on quite jovially, blissfully unaware of the torment she was causing her patient, "You nearly killed one of them - that's Sam Ichibo, you know?" Hasegawa winced. "Still, you weren't responsible for your actions, so no harm done. They had to sedate you, of course, and you'll feel the effects for a little while - but that'll all wear off soon. So - before your colleagues turn up to interview you - is there anything you'd like to tell me?" Hasegawa pondered, "Is the medic all right?" "Yes, yes, of course he is dear. Sam Ichibo is one of our most experienced staff members, he and his team have seen a lot worse. Remember the riots of 800?" Hasegawa nodded as she chortled merrily. "You only tried to strangle him - one rioter broke his arm in three places. Another did the same for his collar-bone, and dislocated his hip!" "I would still like to apologise to them personally." Buddha! The dear boy's blushing! "I'll tell them that Dekacho. Maybe, when you're a bit better, I'll send them up to see you." Hasegawa moved on the bed, trying to ease his cramped muscles. A sudden wave of pain left him breathless, "I ache all over." He glanced down at the hospital gown, and bedding. "Doctor, what're the injuries like?" She bent nearer to him. "Minor." His head snapped around to look her in the face. "OW ! FUCK !" "You can see now why I am confused. Those pulled muscles lead me to conclude that you were struggling against some kind of restraint, but there is no pattern of chaffing to identify the type involved, or how they were attached. You have some quite intimate injuries, but no worse than the average, overly-enthusiastic, love-bite. I don't suppose you were with someone before you went missing, were you?" Hasegawa shook his head slowly. "Oh dear. Semen was present in your throat, but I ran a DNA match, and it's your own." She watched his face, it was unreadable. Merciful bodhisattva. I can't even tell how you're taking this news. "You have a few mild infections, as well as injuries to your reproductive organs. It'll probably feel like you have cystitis for a while. The tissue in most of your delicate areas was very dry: mouth, nose, etcetera. Hence the infections. I think you've been on an intravenous drip, and possibly a colostomy bag." She noticed that he was staring over her shoulder... A dark figure stood behind the doctor. It wielded an old-fashioned hypodermic needle at least a metre long. As it stepped into the light he saw that it's features were obscured by a leather bondage mask. Colour started to flash at the corners of his vision, like to onset of a migraine. He shook his head - argh - and it was gone. When he opened his eyes again, the doctor was looking at him in a very concerned fashion. "Doctor Isu, I may have some information for you after all. I believe I have been held in a state of sensory deprivation for some period of time. I imagine I was found by someone, I don't think I called an ambulance for myself. The last coherent memory I have, is of getting into the elevator at the Oedo study centre with my shopping, on my way back to the section house. I seem to be still hallucinating." "Thank you Dekacho. Trust in me - I've been a doctor for a long time, since before you were born, I should imagine. I know my job - and now I have a better idea of what's wrong with you things should move quite quickly." But I'll have to read up on my medical notes - there aren't that many recent case-studies to go on. Hasegawa looked at her guardedly, "I don't remember anything. I'm missing so much..." 4. "Don't you fret now, young man", she soothed, "that's not a problem. No doubt it'll all come back to you in time. You never know - it might be that there's nothing to retrieve - you might have been kept under the whole time. Either way, I don't want you to worry about it now. Now is the time to relax, you're in safe hands here, I'll send a nurse along with something to help keep those waking nightmares at bay. And we'll have those straps off of you - quick as a blink - you're not a criminal after all." She smiled down at him, and rose to leave - she was a very venerable person, he thought, as he contemplated the veins that stood out on the backs of her hands. And she made no attempt to hide her age - unusual as doctors could normally get all the regens they liked. Obviously quite an individual - Hasegawa liked her already. As she walked slowly from the room the change happened - her cropped white hair suddenly grew longer, much longer. Benten looked back at him, over one shoulder, maliciously. Then it was just the doctor again. She smiled once more, then the door slid shut behind her, and he was on his own. He sighed, and closed his eyes, trying to relax. Safe? Oh, no. No one was ever safe. One of life's great truths, and it's biggest tragedy. His sense of touch was starting to come back to him now, the room was pleasantly warm - and the robe he was wrapped in was soft, and comfortable. He could hear the hushed movements of staff passing in the corridor outside; he caught the whiff of someone's meal being carried past the door, and his mouth flooded with saliva. And I call my criminals dogs. The glow through his eyelids was a gentle pink, no harsh strip lighting in this hospital. He shifted position carefully, and his hair stroked against his face, and neck - even the sheets felt like a caress. All the pains in his musculature were now as nothing, when set against the ache in one particular area. He made a rueful face, all alone with a magnificent hard-on, and his hands were tied! A flicker of fear from nowhere. The door hissed open, and Hasegawa jumped slightly, but it was only the nurse coming in. He balanced a tray in both hands, and bowed, "Dekacho, your medication." Setting the platter down, he set about undoing the straps that held Hasegawa's arms against the rails of the bed. His namebadge identified him as Mitsubishi Hawa, for one second he read the name wrong, and almost choked. The young nurse saw that the Police Chief had tensed, and he paused. "I'm sorry, honourable Sir. Did I touch a tender spot?" "No nurse Mitsubishi, thank you. I was just calling something to mind..." Thank god you're not my type. The nurse moved to Hasegawa's ankles, and undid the bindings there as well. Now he was free. The nurse moved back to the head of the bed, and placed a small dish of patches within easy reach. "Doctor Isu says you're to take one of these if the hallucinations come back." Mitsubishi did not look comfortable with his instructions. You'd never let a patient dose the- mselves up, would you, nurse? Can't have them in charge of their own treatment, can we? Hasegawa merely nodded, "I understand," The nurse paused, "Is there anything else I can do for you, Dekacho-sama?" Yessss. Suck my dick! "Yes please, nurse Mitsubishi. Could you plait my hair up for me?" Doctor Isu learnt a lot over the next few days. At first she found it best to keep the Dekacho mildly sedated at all times, as everything seemed to arouse him: smell, taste, touch - (sweet Buddha, touch!) - no doubt some sights, and even sounds! It was obvious that the poor, dear, boy found it all hideously embarrassing. Doctor Isu smiled gently to herself, at least that's one advantage we women have, no hard-ons to contend with. Now the doctor had cut back on the tranquillisers, she'd had a numbing lotion made up, (for topical application), and tried to ensure that the young man got as much privacy as possible. Of course, she was still having to fend off Hasegawa-san's welfare officer; she could never stop herself picturing that woman as a shark in a woolly jumper. But this was Isu's hospital, and she could pull all the rank she liked - as 5. she'd told the psychic. My, my! Maybe life was hard, and every hand turned against you, when you had that degree of the talent; no doubt you needed to create a hard shell to protect your own feelings against the assault of other peoples' emotions - much the same argument police- officers had used down the centuries, to justify a certain degree of coldness. Still, and all, she couldn't shake her dislike of the woman - or the usual reputation of her department. In all Isu's years patching-up, and piecing together, the police-force - she'd never been able to cultivate the callous disregard of, `Welfare and Evaluation.' Naturally they had deposited two, `specials', outside the Dekacho's room, ostensibly for his protection, and that was where they were staying - outside. They didn't contribute to her own feelings of security, and would have a most demoralising effect on her charge. To say nothing of the problems she was having with some of her own staff! Isu had caught a group of nurses in the staff room, actually laughing and joking about chief Hasegawa's condition; about how they were going to have to pull a train on him to stop his balls swelling up like grapefruit. The most verbose culprit had failed to notice the sudden silence of her audience - until the sweetly-smiling Isu had informed her that she had a joke of her very own, to share with them all. The next day the main offender had found herself transferred to a much more exciting hospital, with plenty of scope to practise on-the- job levity. The rest of the shift suddenly lost their sense of humour. Isu rounded a corner and approached the two hulks, standing either side of the door that led into Hasegawa's room. She glared at them in - what she thought was - her most ferocious fashion. They didn't even twitch, only acknowledge her presence with a regulation bow, and greeting - all whilst continuing to stare straight ahead. They were so perfectly matched in looks - and timing - that they might have been a piece of modern sculpture. So, maybe W&E employ golem these days, she thought. "Hello, Hasegawa-san", she called brightly to the man on the bed, he managed a faint smile back. "Doctor Isu-sama. How are you today?" "No, no, dear boy! That's my line - I'm the one with the bedside manner, remember?" She moved to the foot of the cot, to call up charts on the small hand-held fixed there. "Good. Good. Nothing wrong here, I see." She walked back to the head of the bed, and sat on the chair next to the monitor, a tray of instruments slid out from the metal frame at her touch and, as she prepared them, she chattered. "How are those hallucinations now, dear boy?" "They've mostly faded, doctor", he sounded unsure. "What a good sign. They should all be gone soon - although my staff tell me that you seem to be experiencing some quite shocking nightmares." The man sighed, "None of which I seem to remember. I still can't recall enough..." but of course I can - I just can't let on. It's too incoherent, it's too fucking dangerous... Doctor Isu was running a small instrument over Hasegawa's body, checking it's readings whilst making encouraging noises. She bent over the man and checked his eyes, then did a quick brain-scan. "Well, I can assure you that there's nothing physically broken, young man", she caught his look of concern, "and I'd stake my reputation on your sanity." "The W&E psych-ri*... personnel may disagree with you there, doctor. They're outside now, aren't they ?" How did you know that, lad. She nodded, "Don't fret over it, they can't even say, `Good-day', to you - unless I agree it first." She patted his arm in a reassuring way. But I have to talk to them sometime... "Doctor-sama", he said suddenly, "can I ask you a favour?" "That all depends, my fine fellow, you can always ask. Just as long as you remember that if I feel anything is not in your best interests, I can veto it." Hasegawa nodded slowly, "In here - you're in charge. I understand. That said, may I be allowed to take a shower, on my own? I have had trouble with the bed-baths." Oh yes. So I'd 6. heard. His next words came out in a rush. "It's been much worse this week - one of the nurses is menstruating." Isu's eyebrows shot up towards her hairline. He continued, "She sits on the pillow, next to my head, to brush my hair, I do not wish to seem ungrateful..." Isu watched his teeth clench, and a muscle start to dance along his jaw-line. "I see Dekacho-san. I'm sure it can be arranged that you can conduct your own toilette from now on. Now", she looked at him regretfully, I'm afraid there's no pleasant way to do this, I have to check up on some of those internal injuries. Roll onto your side please, and draw your knees up." As Isu rested her hand on the policeman's flank, she could feel that he was trembl- ing. Without being careless in any way, she speeded up the checks she needed to make, and withdrew the probe, gently. She dropped the removable tip into a pan of disinfectant solution, and fitted a clean one, greasing the tip. The hand-held readings were excellent; the infections had cleared up, and the little scarring there was had almost completely vanished. She steeled herself for the next action she had to take, "Dekacho Hasegawa-san, roll onto your back please." He stayed still, huddled on his side. Doctor Isu bent right over her patient, and whispered in his ear, "Juzo, I've been a fully qualified doctor for over forty years. There is nothing you've got that I won't have seen before. There is no need to be embarrassed. I know how you must feel about this - everyone hates to feel humiliated - but I need to do my job. The sooner you get better, the sooner you can get away from me, and this hospital." The man on the bed slowly unbent, and forced himself to lie straight. Isu looked down at the supine figure, and took his erection in one hand, "very impressive, Hasegawa-san. If I was even only ten years younger... but I'm afraid that this is going to take the starch out of it." He closed his eyes as she eased the device into his urethra. In later days Hasegawa's mind returned inexorably to the nightmare that had been his, much- looked-for, private shower. He felt he'd won quite a victory in getting it; obviously he had impressed the doctor enough with his good sense to get her to agree. The doctor herself - plus two burly nurses - had personally escorted him past his gaolers. For one moment he thought that they were going to follow the small group, but doctor Isu had raised one warning finger, and - miraculously - they halted in their tracks. It wasn't that far to the bathing block, but he'd still been grateful that the gowns in this hospital were of a design that had no gaping seam down the back. And the hem-line reached past his knees. Nurse Mitsubishi handed him a small bag, the sort of complementary kit that you were given in bath-houses, or hotels. Inside was a small tube of shampoo, block of standard hospital scentless soap, sponge, shaving mousse, and moisturiser. He was also handed three towels, and a bath mat. Then he'd walked through the door and been on his own, it seemed far more privacy than he'd had for days. There was no lock on the door, but Hasegawa couldn't see that doctor Isu would allow him to be disturbed. At that moment it felt like the biggest luxury of his life. He carefully hung his robe on the back of the door, and raised his arms above his head, breathing deeply. Revelling in the sense of freedom. He placed the mat in front of the shower door so as to be able to stand on it when he got out. There was no central drain in the floor of this room, but then there was no bath in here, so no reason to wash off before you entered the water. The power shower was a wonderful invention. Taking his time, he laid the other towels over the heated rail and placed the toiletries on a shelf inside the shower cubicle. He touched the small control panel to set the water temperature, and velocity of spray, and stepped in. Almost as soon as the water touched him, he knew this was going to be a mistake, a huge mistake, massive. Hundreds of fingers drummed a staccato rhythm on his skin. The fluid twined itself, sensually, round his body. His plastered hair clung to his neck, face, and shoulders like a jealous lover. And it was so warm, and it touched him everywhere, all over, all at once. Erotic, and emotional, overload. After half an hour's wait doctor Isu had been paged by nurse Mitsubishi, because he was worried. They came in to find him weeping in a corner of the unit, face pressed into a 7. tiled corner. Hurriedly the medic had snapped the water off, and Mitsubishi and Saikaku had lifted the older man out. Between them they got him dry, and restored what calm they could. For Hasegawa it was one of the nadirs of his life, as he clung to the doctor's frail shoulders, unable to stop this appalling outburst. Isu gave him another mild sedative, clucking sympathetically, and praying that he wouldn't develop a psychological addiction. He didn't need the W&E section handed any more weapons to use against him; and the hospital didn't need any kind of lawsuit. Saikaku fetched a chair, and the Dekacho was glided - dozing - back to his room. The golem followed them in tandem, from the junction of the corridors, back to Hasegawa's door. They took up their places outside, exactly as if they'd never moved. Once Isu had seen Hasegawa settled, she prepared to go home. What a day! The poor boy looked like he was going to need weeks of recovery time. She could only hope that W&E realised how close to the edge he still was, and that he was valuable enough to them that they cared about his condition. They'd already insisted she turn her notes over to them, and their computers monitored the daily test results. May they never know how much I commit to memory alone! She simply left out little details, or personal observations, she didn't feel to be vital; it was possible they'd get the information from another source, but she operated on a, `need to know', basis. By the time Okio arrived Isu had been long gone. The receptionist on the front desk smiled up at her. "Good afternoon, officer Junuchi, back again?" Okio returned the smile winningly "Did doctor Isu say if I could see Dekacho Hasegawa yet? I've brought him some things from home." The man's face fell, "oh, dear. I forgot to ask her, and now she's left for the day." Okio's lower lip trembled, she showed every indication that she was going to cry, spectacularly. The man made a swift decision, he looked about, "orderly! Could you escort this young lady up to the Dekacho Hasegawa-sama's room? She's a police officer come to bring him some things." He remembered something else, "officer, do you know a Kotonoi-san? It appears she's the head archivist of dead languages at the study centre." Okio nodded, "yes! Yes! She was working with the Dekacho. I've got a pile of messages from her, for Hasegawa-san, back at the office." "Well, she's left some here as well. It's been all over the news that the Dekacho's here. Maybe you could take them up to him as well. She only seems to be asking how he is; nothing too taxing - like work - so I'm sure doctor Isu won't mind." "So, I can go up now? Thank you. Thank you both!" The orderly smiled, and nodded, and motioned for her to follow. Okio beamed at both of them, with all the ingenuousness of youth. She winked at the receptionist. "I promise I'll be quick, and don't worry - I won't tell a soul!" The golem at the door didn't present as big a problem as Okio'd feared. She was known to be Hasegawa's personal assistant after all. They gave the small bundle she carried a perfunctory check, and only glanced at the messages from the Oedo study centre, they'd seen plenty of those in the last few days! The little pouch carried Hasegawa's non-lethal lighter, a packet of cigarettes, a bottle of his personal bodyscent, and some clean underwear. Gogul had gotten permission from W&E for her to take the stuff from Hasegawa's apartment, only Okio didn't find that strange. At last the guards let her pass, she didn't smile at them, or pay any attention to the desirous look she got from the larger woman. Hasegawa lay asleep in front of her, his arms flung back above his head, one hand curled around a bar of the bed-frame. Okio unconsciously hushed her breathing, and tip-toed closer to the sleeping man. Someone had plaited his hair securely, and it lay in a thick twist across the pillow, his face was turned towards her, and he breathed softly through his mouth. Okio stood quietly - just looking at him. Part of her wanted to rouse him, talk to him, but he looked so peaceful - happy, even - the she hadn't the heart to disturb him. Okio crept a little closer to the 8. bed, and lay the small bag of belongings on the unit next to it. She sat on the chair beside him and prepared to be a good girl, she'd wait a while and see if he woke up naturally. Her gaze travelled down his inert form, and she saw how the hospital gown had ridden up, and bunched about his waist. The blankets had slipped - or been pushed - off, and they sat enticingly low over his hips. Why, you could just see the beginnings of his pubic hair! Officer Junuchi quickly looked away, a hot flush spreading over her cheeks, then she resolutely looked back. One, long, leg protruded from the covers, and hung, precariously, over the edge of the frame. The muscles in the thigh twitched, she watched the rise and fall of his honey-coloured stomach, as he in- and ex-haled. She was fascinated, trapped by the desire to look, without being seen in return. Automatically she inched her way closer, almost near enough to feel the heat radiating from his bared skin. A sudden shock of morality hit her, like a lightning bolt from the gods. Junuchi! What are you doing? Chief Hasegawa must be cold lying there all uncovered, like that! And all you can do is think terrible thoughts! No-one could scold Okio the way Okio could, not even her parents. And the overabundance of guilt in her life owed absolutely nothing to a religious up-bringing, she was just designed that way. With a vague sense of disappoint- ment Okio bent carefully forward, and reached out a little hand to pull the blankets up over the semi-naked form. Unfortunately, she was so busy staring at the expanse of haunch on display she failed to notice the change in Hasegawa's breathing pattern. Someone was close, very close. He could feel the presence hovering over him, waiting. Rousing himself, why was I asleep? he peered out from beneath his half-closed lashes. Okio? The woman leant over him, arm angled down towards his midriff. Okio began to tuck him in. No! Sachiko! With a wail, Hasegawa lashed out at the shadowy figure above him. He scrambled backwards, and fell off of the edge of the bed - but he continued moving - legs frantically scooting him away across the floor. Officer Junuchi reeled back towards the door, and stumbled blindly out of it; the heel of her shoe caught on something, and she fell into the arms of the smaller of the two caryatid. One hand was clasped over her bleeding nose, only her police training - and reflexes - had saved her from a more serious injury. The larger woman slapped the emergency doctor summons, hard - whilst her companion sat Okio down on her own, suddenly vacated, chair. They stared anxiously through the opened door, neither could see Hasegawa. "Oh, shit!" said the smaller woman, with feeling, "think we should call head-quarters? I don't want to go in there without back-up. Tanaka Otei's his W&E contact isn't she? Get her down here!" "Nah... She can probably already tell how pissed off he is, and she's staying well out of it! At least until someone's been stupid enough to go in there first!" "Guess that's us then! Oh, Kwannon!" As they dithered the duty doctor came up the corridor at a run, trailing nurse Mitsubishi in his wake. He spared a glance for the sobbing Okio. "Someone get some needle-wool on that eye of hers, and get her away from here." He stood irresolutely at the threshold, "I don't suppose either of you two ladies would like to go in first? No, I didn't think so..." Cautiously he eased himself into the room. "Dekacho Hasegawa? It's Doctor Ueda here, are you all right?" His eyes darted about the enclosed space, just where was the bastard? "Is there something we can get for you Hasegawa-sama?" Doctor Ueda had read all of Isu's notes and, in theory, he knew he had absolutely nothing to worry about. That was fine - in theory. The specials had followed him closely, and were scanning the room, at least they haven't produced guns yet. I could do without being caught in a crossfire, friendly - or not! The bigger female indicated the area under the window, with a subtle eye movement, and Ueda raised himself on his toes to see where she was looking. "Ah, Dekacho! There you are!" The patient was blinking in confusion, so Ueda gathered his mettle in both hands, and walked around the bed to crouch before the Inspector. He extended his arms, "here, shall I help you back into bed now?" he 9. asked softly. I suppose it's just fortunate that window wasn't open, or we'd have found you out on the ledge with the pigeons... if we were lucky! A little while later Doctor Ueda was sternly lecturing a very contrite Okio. Did she know how very ill Dekacho Hasegawa still was? Had she any idea of the amount of medication he was still taking? She had just given him a very bad fright, why - she could have set his recovery back weeks! He demanded to know just who had let her in. Not that he was really interested in knowing, they weren't the ones that had scared the living daylights out of the Inspector, she was. Poor Okio was caught in the backwash of the Doctor's own delayed fear. The two W&E women shuffled their feet awkwardly, and tried to pretend that they were just part of the door-frame. Yup. Yessiree. That's us. Just a pair door-posts, nothing more. Okio was as good as her word. She never told Ueda that she'd been brought up to this room. In fact she insisted that she'd found her own way there. The golem were saying nothing either. Finally Doctor Ueda gave up, Okio was still weeping quietly, and he'd quite run out of vitriol. Nurse Mitsubishi held the needle-wool to her eye, watching it slowly drain the blood from the bruise; he pulled sympathetic faces at Okio. `Miserable sod', he mouthed at her, `nag ,nag, nag, nag, nag!' Ueda finally stalked off to write up the afternoon's sequence of events, and Hawa turned to pull a face at his retreating back. "Are you feeling better now, bishojo?" She snuffled, and nodded. The larger woman, of the security twosome, held out a handkerchief. Eyes front, no expression, just the offer of a square of cotton. Mitsubishi took it, and held it up to Okio's face. She took it, and dabbed at her tears, "you're very kind", she quavered at them both. She even tried a watery, wavering, smile. Mitsubishi surveyed the damage: her eye was looking a lot better, the little nanites in the `wool' had done their job well - and her nose had stopped bleeding. Mitsubishi ran a quick scan on his personal hand-held to make sure nothing was broken. "It's all right, you know? He hit you, not the other way around." "But it was all my fault..." "Bollocks! You were doing him a favour, and he's still too groggy to appreciate it, that's all. Would you like a coffee, or something? Or a lift home?" The larger golem narrowed her eyes, her mouth puckering imperceptibly. "No, thank you. You're really too kind, really. I'm just being silly. After all, I'm a police officer. I can't carry on like a little school-girl." She straightened her back, and gave a last mournful sniff. "I am ashamed to have behaved so disgracefully in front of you. I beg your forgiveness." She left after a series of formal bows, to just about anyone who got in the way. Wending her way to the local shinkansen station to avoid having to ring her father, or Syensuke, for a lift; she just didn't think she could face company tonight. Or - at least - not until she had herself under better control. And in an apartment, not so very far away, someone else paced fretfully. There is a limit to the number of times you can ring, and leave messages at, a hospital. She wasn't a relative, or a friend, or a colleague. Or the press. Any more of this, and someone would start to get suspicious. Well, she could always get `Maru-chan to pump Okio for information. He'd told her that the Junuchi-puppy was going over there tonight. Ah, shit! I never thought I'd hurt you that badly! She breathed raggedly through her teeth. How could I have been so stupid, not to see the danger. The ice in her drink rattled against the sides of the glass, and she rested the cold surface against her forehead. Some rapist! Pah! What can I do to start making it up to you? She turned to a pile of records on the coffee, scratch that. Clutter! table. No one realised she took this kind of work home with her. Who are your enemies? Who is your John the Baptist, that I might hand you their head on a plate? Mitsushiba - now... There's a name to conjure with. Your ex-uncle-in-law, sort of, ish. I don't think you like him very much, do you? Ergo, neither do I. The week progressed, and Hasegawa announced his intention to discharge himself from the hospital, to a concerned Doctor Isu. He felt he was not unwell enough to justify using up 10. precious resources any longer. And, yes, he did realise that his medical insurance was good for years yet. The department took very good care of its own, that wasn't the problem. He had to face internal affairs, sooner or later. The quicker he got this over with, the better - and the sooner he'd be back on duty. Doctor Isu shook her head, sadly, but there was no help for it - the dear boy was set on his own course, and she suspected he could prove to be a very stubborn individual, if pushed. The best she could do for him now was to give him a list of do's, and don'ts. She had prepared a list of the medication he was to continue taking, on his departure. All the little packets had lovingly hand-written labels, detailing dosage and timing. At least the `visions' had almost gone, but - just in case they came back - here was a prescription he could get made up at the station pharmacy. Now, his sytem had been completely de-toxified, so he was to take it easy with the alcohol; she'd been told he liked a drink. And, she'd like him to give up smoking. Yes yes, yes - she did know they were only sim-cigs, but... Lastly, sex. Although his injuries had healed, he might still experience a little discomfort and - if you were raped - lad, you'll be feeling emotional after effects as well. Generally he was to take things easy: not to be too rough on himself, or let anyone else be. Unless he was giving head. Hasegawa maintained a stony, but polite, silence - let her assume he had a partner, if it kept her happy. Sex was the last thing he wanted to think about, right now. He had more than enough to worry about, as it was. Internally, Isu fretted; if it was a sexual assault, it was quite likely to be someone he knew, and who knew him well enough to plan and carry out something like this. And whoever it was hadn't been caught yet. Maybe everything would come out in the `psychic' investigation; but, even if he genuinely remebered nothing, wouldn't the intrusive harranging be just another rape? And if he was concealing information... Isu didn't want to think about the consequences. She shuddered, do you have any idea what they could do to you? "All right then, if you're sure? Just sign this release form for me, would you, Dekacho?" Hasegawa scrawled his signature, and handed the e-pad back to her; he extended his hand towards her, and she shook it. A brief flash: little hands, fragile as bird bones, small and soft - he jerked. Luckily the doctor hadn't seemed to notice, she smiled encouragingly at him, as he rose to leave. "Take care now, young man. Feel free to come and see me, or talk to me, any time." He pulled on his overcoat, bowed, and walked out of the office door. Two new heavies materialised out of nowhere. They flanked him in a way that implied too many things, Juzo wasn't impressed, I could take you both without breaking sweat, he thought; then she stepped into the light, Tanaka-san. "Dekacho Hasegawa-san. I'm delighted that you're finally feeling better. Now, could we possibly trouble you for some of your valuable time?" He nodded once, curtly, and walked with them out of the building. (i) The grunts had gone, his office was his own, once more. The seige had broken at about two in the morning, with the Imperial Officers cocking up well, no suprise there then, eh? In their efforts to bring Prince Riuchi out, unharmed.