People are trapped in history, and history is trapped in them.
-James Baldwin
" . . . and besides that, the wrap-up for this case will be handled by Section 1, so there's just a few things left for us to do." Aramaki addressed the gathered members of Section 9, "We need to take down the Historical Immersion System right away in preparation for its disposal this afternoon -- Ishikawa, please take care of it." Ishikawa nodded, and the Chief continued, "Borma, don't forget to shut down any monitoring searches still running on the researchers' activity -- we have no business peering into their personal lives now that they have been rescued."
"Yes, Chief."
Aramaki paused, and then looked over to where Batou and Motoko were sitting on the couch. Batou was trying to look casual, but a tenseness about his jaw belied his stress. Motoko was as unreadable as ever. Aramaki continued, "Lastly, I strongly suggest that you both take some time off . . . and Ishikawa, too. I can see that your experiences within the System have been stressful, and we don't have any other pressing cases right now."
They looked at him as if he had suggested they dance the polka. Finally, Motoko asked politely, "Is that all?"
"Yes, the debriefing is over."
As if directed by an invisible conductor, Section 9 stood up and started to leave. But then, Ishikawa stopped and asked,
"Major, I had a question for you. After you logged Batou out, his Ghost stayed in the system. How did you know that killing Batou's avatar would bring his Ghost back?" Everyone stopped their exit, lingering to overhear the answer.
"Yeah, that was pretty rough treatment for a delicate guy like myself," Batou added, grinning and rubbing his neck.
She shrugged, "His Ghost had too strong of a hold on the System -- I thought that, with his Ghost fully decoupled, I would be able to guide him out of the System. He followed me, as usual."
"Wow, according to some of the Ghost Theory research I've been reading about, I would have expected the shock of losing a shell -- even a virtual one -- while conscious would have been quite a trauma to the psyche. How did you know it would work?," Ishikawa persisted.
"I didn't," she answered simply, crimson eyes unblinking, and she walked away. Batou's grin faded as he watched the Major leave. Soon the others followed, but Togusa stayed.
"What I don't get," Togusa began, moving away from the Major's uncomfortable remark, "is why the Professor wasn't affected like the others -- he knew he was in the System the whole time." Batou looked at him blankly for a moment, then shrugged.
"Being in the System . . . it was like someone else was in control, but I was that other person. Like I, as Batou, didn't even exist anymore . . . I don't know, it's too hard to explain." He looked off into the distance, thinking. "What I wonder is where that other person, that other . . . Ghost, came from. The System was supposed to just give experiences, right?"
Togusa nodded. "That's what all the notes talked about." He frowned, and then asked, "So, do you think the Professor just had a stronger sense of self? Or maybe his knowledge of history allowed him to more easily separate the experience from his own consciousness?"
Batou frowned angrily and shook his head. "Who knows?! Why should I care-- I just want to forget about the whole damn thing!" Togusa took a step back at the sudden outburst.
"Whoa, maybe you really should take some time off, like the Chief said." Togusa tried to soften his comments with a smile, but Batou just looked at him with disgust and stormed off, feeling betrayed on all sides. He started feeling a little remorseful even before he got to the hallway, though, and called back,
"Sorry, Togusa. I -- " He paused, but words and thoughts were too muddled for a response. "Just forget about it." He headed for the locker room to get his jacket, still thinking about the Major's words. He appreciated that she came and rescued him, but he was ashamed she had to, that it had taken so much effort. It wasn't that difficult to get anyone else out of the System . . . Weak. Somehow he was weak when he should have been strong.
Slamming his locker door shut, he began to remember something . . . He had tried to forget most of his experience in the System; it was too painful to think of hating Motoko, of trying to kill her, of losing himself. "Follow me," she had said.
She trusted me to follow her, he thought, and I guess that's enough.
The stables smelled of wet hay and muck, but to the horses it smelled like home. A steady rain pattered against the roof, the only sound other than the horses' breathing and the occasional stomp of a hoof. One mare tossed her head impatiently, and then nudged the bolt holding her stall closed with her lip until it slid unlocked. She pushed the stall door open, and trotted out into the night. With a whinny of glee she galloped up the hill, leaping over a small stream and prancing wildly in the starlight night. Then, like thunder with no lightning to give warning, all the other horses galloped out of the stables, hooves pounding the ground in a beautiful percussion of movement, and joined the frolicking.
"Ohhh, so this is what it feels like to be alive!"
"I thought it would be more exciting."
"Does anyone have any apples? I really really really want one! I guess it's kind of like natural oil for horses . . . "
"I didn't think being alive would be so painful . . . my hooves hurt, and flies keep biting me!"
"Pain? Oh, I thought it was a sensory malfunction . . . "
"I want to gallop away into a sunset!"
"Do you think we're missing something, being horses instead of humans?
"Hmmm, maybe so. I wonder why the System put us in as horses, anyway?"
Suddenly, the scene disappeared from view, and there was only the maintenance bay, with the Tachikoma looking around in dismay.
"Is that it?"
"Why did it kick us out? Was there a buffer overflow?"
"Ishikawa just disconnected the System -- I heard they're going to take it apart. Good thing I was keeping watch and logged you out before he found you!" The Tachikoma shook its mechanical arm at the rest for emphasis. "Now, let me synchronize with you! I want to know what it feels like to be a human!"
"Actually, in the System, we were all horses."
"Horses? The equine animals anciently used for war, work, and transportation?"
"Yeah, but it was actually pretty neat! Here, I'll show you . . . "
"Ohhh! Wow! I see! Amazing!"
At a rear table in the Moti Indian Restaurant in New Tokyo, Aramaki sat down to meet with Professor Ogawa, his assistant Shimura Yumeko, and his old friend Yamashita. After ordering, Professor Ogawa began,
"Aramaki-san, I am deeply grateful for the tremendous effort your team has expended into rescuing all of us in this project. I should have suspected Akimoto's motives in funding the project were not as altruistic as they seemed, but to tell you the truth, we were just happy to find the funding."
"Not at all, Ogawa-san. We were happy to be of assistance. My only regret is that your assistant Fujiwara has not yet recovered consciousness."
Ogawa sighed worriedly. "Yes, that is still a problem . . . but no fault of yours, I can assure you."
Aramaki nodded gravely. Their orders arrived, and everyone took a moment to sample each dish. Mouths full of intricate spices savored each bite in thoughtful reflection, until Aramaki broke the silence by remarking, "Professor, I expect that the evidence we sent over to Section 1 has completely cleared you of any involvement in the illegal activities surrounding the Historical Immersion System." Ogawa nodded and swallowed.
"Yes, thank you for that as well! I still must testify in court, but Section 1 seems assured of my innocence -- and the rest of my team as well." He looked at Shimura and smiled. She nodded calmly.
"Well, what are your plans now, Professor?," Yamashita asked.
"The truth is, we have actually received some funding from a different source to do related research into the field of historical data extraction. We hope to be able to use the same databases to create a more passive experience that should also be quite educational." Aramaki raised an eyebrow, and Ogawa hurriedly assured them, "Of course, with greater Ghost separation and much more stringent oversight."
Shimura added, "In fact, next week we are travelling to Kyoto University to meet with some researchers there who are working on the same project. This project would be open to the public, as a much more accessible and accurate way to learn about history than poring through books or watching old movies."
"But what about the System itself?," Yamashita asked, curious, "Surely all that hard work wasn't for nothing? Can you use it in your new project." Ogawa shook his head, and Aramaki explained,
"The order from the Department of Internal Affairs is to dispose of the system. Research on Ghost Immersion, like that used in the Historical Immersion System, is temporarily prohibited until further investigation can be made."
"Disposed of? Are you overseeing this effort, then?," Yamashita asked curiously.
"No, I have been ordered to give it to a third party for disposal. The National Diet Library's Special Collections Department will be executing and logging its disposition and archival." Aramaki's eyes glinted and he smiled faintly, but Yamashita didn't seem to notice.
"I see . . . well, that's unfortunate, then."
But the Major's voice soon came over his comlink, "The Special Collections Department, huh? You must have pulled a lot of strings to get it sent there."
Aramaki sent his thoughts back through the comlink. "A lot of people work in the Special Collections Department. I'm sure Aoi has better things to do than interfere with the System's proper disposal."
"Of course." The Major smiled, knowing the Historical Immersion System would be in good hands.
"You need a hand with that?," Borma asked, gesturing to the pile of disconnected cables Ishikawa was fishing through.
"Sure, you can help me put these away," Ishikawa replied, looping a cable in a neat bundle and twisting a metal tie around it. Borma moved to join him.
"Hey, you know what's weird?," Borma asked, after a few quiet moments of work.
"What?"
"There's this historical message board the researchers were using -- I guess they were discussing some of the reference materials, you know, networking with other researchers. There was even some historical reenactment section, like role-playing or something. Well, when I was shutting down some of the bots I had collecting net data on the researchers, I noticed that there was some new activity on this board."
"What's so strange about that?," Ishikawa replied, picking up a new cable. Borma continued,
"So, for all the researchers, activity on the board stopped about 5 days ago, when they fell into comas. And so, now that they're conscious, it's not surprising that the posts have started again -- but there's been 153 posts in the last 24 hours in the roleplaying section, by somebody using Fujiwara's login."
"Fujiwara? The one who never woke up?"
"Exactly. I guess it could be his roommate or something . . . but maybe you should take a look at it." Borma moved over to the terminal and brought up the message board:
Forum Topic: Siege of Osaka
Moderators: TokugawaHideyori, SenHime, TendoJuuichiro
Thread Title: Briefing at the Gate
Last Post By: FujiwaraKenji
Thread Title: The Barracks
Last Post By: m4sterN1nj4
Thread Title: Midnight Patrol
Last Post By: FujiwaraKenji
Thread Title: Reflections By a Pond
Last Post By: FujiwaraKenji
Thread Title: A Ninja Investigates
Last Post By: FujiwaraKenji
Thread Title: Dream of a Disembodied Soul
Last Post By: UnnoRokuro
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Thread Title: A Question of Honor
Last Post By: FujiwaraKenji
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Author's Note: Thanks to my hubby & co-author, and my family (my sister better read this!). Also, thanks to everyone who read and reviewed, especially Zurizip and Byrnstar, whose early reviews really encouraged me. I hope you enjoyed it -- I really tried to stay IC and be historically plausible. No sequel is planned (I'm having a baby in six weeks!), but I suppose you never know . . . :-)