Enemies of the Batsu: Miraibanashi, #2

By James Litherland

An unusual revolution has begun…

Roshike and friends must work from within the beating heart of Batsu society while enforcers edge ever closer to discovering—and eliminating—at least one of their number. When it comes down to a decision between their own safety and everyone's future, what will they choose to do?

This thrilling tale of espionage in a dystopian future Japan concludes with Book 3: Endurance of the Free.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Outpost Stories
• Release date: Apr 3, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386004332

James Litherland

James Litherland is a graduate of the University of South Florida who currently resides as a Virtual Hermit in the wilds of West Tennessee. He’s lived various places and done a number of jobs – he’s been an office worker and done hard manual labor, worked (briefly) in the retail and service sectors, and he’s been an instructor. But through all that, he’s always been a writer. And after over thirty years of studying and practicing his craft, he took the plunge and published independently. He is a Christian who tries to walk the walk (and not talk much.)

Book preview

Chapter 1

Black and Blue

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In the guard training hall

ROSHIKE STOOD STRIPPED to the waist, his arms and torso a mass of bruises, and looked down at his fellow trainees lying on the ground all around him. Some were unconscious, but most moaned in pain as they clutched parts of themselves. The vast room, a thousand meters square, had a thin carpet covering the cement floor, but it wasn’t sufficient to soften the impact when someone collided with it at speed in an awkward tangle of limbs.

Of course he knew how to take a fall. He could seem to take quite a lot of punishment while actually absorbing a lot less damage than he appeared to from various thumps thanks to Tetsuba’s training, but these others weren’t so fortunate. So he’d done what little he could to avoid hurting them any more than necessary.

Roshike truly regretted what he’d had to do, but he’d had no choice if he were going to advance in the Batsu’s security system. And he needed to do that if he were going to be of any use to Mark and Seiko in ending the regime. So he’d thrashed the other students until none could continue to stand.

His legs bore the marks of many blows as well, but those were hidden by the light blue trousers he wore. And none of the bruises he sported had been courtesy of the other trainees. No, they’d all resulted from the surly senior guards who served as their instructors ‘demonstrating’ how to hit an enemy.

If they’d been too enthusiastic about it, it went together with the lesson they seemed most interested in teaching, how to take a beating without being knocked down and out. And when those kicks and punches had rained down on Roshike with particular frequency and severity, he wondered whether it was because of his history or for some other reason he wasn’t aware of.

He had managed to keep his face free from being marked in any way, for what it had been worth. They still hadn’t allowed him out.

The Batsu didn’t want other citizens to witness the cut cheeks, swollen jaws, and black eyes usually exhibited by trainee guards. It might prompt someone to start asking questions. Unlikely, but the possibility had produced the policy of keeping the students confined here for the duration. Even if, as in his case, there were no injuries that couldn’t be covered up.

Lifting his head to glare at the three large men who stood with their arms folded at the front of the room, Roshike realized they were waiting to discover whether any of the other trainees would rise and attack him again. If they didn’t, that meant he had passed their final test and couldn’t be held here as a mere recruit anymore. Supposedly.

From their stony expressions it was obvious the instructors hoped he would fail, and they were giving the others plenty of opportunity to continue the fight. They would have to wait a long time.

Almost a week had gone by since the Gaku-net had transferred Roshike to the guard division, tagging him as a potential enforcer. And that might account for all the hostility directed his way. Because there was little love lost between the guards in their blue uniforms and the enforcers in their black suits. As Roshike had been marked out to join those elite ranks, it would make sense for the guards to resent that, including the instructors. It had set him apart from and kept him ostracized by the other trainees as well. He didn’t care.

He was only playing a part, after all, as he waited for his friends to finish their preparations to take down, or more accurately transform, the Gaku-net system that controlled every aspect of Batsu society with subtle oppression. And even affected those on the outside all the way to the fringes, usually for the worse and almost never for the better.

All that would hopefully change once Mark and Seiko had found out how to rip the reins of the system out of the hands of the nameless committee of elites who currently had control. Roshike had chosen to stay in the Gaku compound so he could help them when the time came. Since there were no other members of the Yes network here to do that.

That was why he had to finish training and become a fully fledged guard as soon as possible. He would likely be assigned to the lowliest job, patrolling the administration building, but since that was where the server room and most of their other probable targets were located, that post would work out well from Roshike’s point-of-view. Especially as he would also be able to come and go from here freely when he was off duty.

The food in the guard cafeteria was awful, so it would be nice to get out and eat better meals, but it was also important for him to check to see if either of his friends had left him a message. More personally, he hoped to get a glimpse of them.

It wasn’t strictly necessary, it might even be potentially dangerous, but he wanted some assurance that they were both still safe and sound and able to fight the good fight. At least Shin had somehow escaped the compound with copies of the files he had gotten off the Gaku-net servers. And however she’d managed that, he doubted she could get back in. It seemed unlikely she would want to, even if she had a way.

So he needn’t worry about Shin, but he was still concerned about Mark and Seiko, who remained in the Gaku and vulnerable to exposure. Of course he wanted to see they were well with his own eyes. Especially Seiko.

But he hadn’t dared slip out to check during the past week, because it wasn’t worth taking the risk of exposing himself. So he’d been stuck down here all this time with little to do in his off hours other than study the data he’d downloaded, and while that had been enlightening, it hadn’t been terribly useful.

Unable to use the processing power of the network to search the forbidden files, he’d had to skim manually through the trove of information, hoping to come across something of practical value in those moments of stolen privacy he made for himself. But while he’d found out more about Batsu history, the real record, discovering the things they would need to know in order to defeat them demanded the ability to craft specific searches, and he didn’t think he could code such subroutines from scratch. Presuming he could find the time to try.

Seiko certainly could though, and he hoped she was learning what they would need to know—while he worked on what he could do. And that meant he had to get promoted. If only so he would be free to nose around the building some more.

Glancing around at his fallen fellow trainees, it was clear a few were still struggling to stand under the compelling glares of the instructors, but none of them had managed yet. There were only a dozen of them altogether—Roshike and the eight other novices and the three teachers. Hardly enough for the enormous space to seem anything but almost empty. And this training hall only occupied one corner of the basement floor.

He had already thoroughly explored every corner of the nearly million square meters given to the guards for their headquarters, which contained not only cramped, communal accommodations for the trainees but also small, private apartments for any guards who couldn’t afford lodgings on the outside. Or who didn’t want to spend what few bits they had on such a luxury.

Roshike would’ve appreciated the extra privacy of his own place, but it would be more important to stay near the probable targets and close to the enemy. Instead he would use his bits to bypass the so-called cafeteria down here, located right next to the infirmary in what he assumed was only a fortunate coincidence, and eat out. Since even the cog cafeterias boasted better food. And going to one of those meant getting away from the administration building.

Above this basement level, that five-story behemoth which was the beating heart of Batsu authority sat heavy and oppressive in the very center of the compound. Though Roshike had seen some of the fifth floor and the roof, not to mention more of the crawlspaces and air ducts than he would have cared to, that still left lots of ground to cover and plenty of places to investigate. But while it wasn’t an attractive building, inside or out, it would make a refreshing change from his current surroundings.

Nothing here was pleasant. The stark, gray cement walls oozed a musty dampness, and the harsh artificial lights didn’t prevent the place from feeling dark and dank. It depressed his spirit.

Then there was the way they were treated. Not only Roshike but all the students were forced to endure painful beatings. He just got more.

The training was obviously meant to be brutal, to desensitize the Batsu security forces to violence, not only to being on the receiving end but presumably to numb them to delivering it as well. The Batsu living up to, or rather down to, that meaning of their name. Punishment.

While Roshike knew he could handle the physical pain—and was glad he healed fast—he was concerned about the effect on his personality, the psychological consequences of what was being done to him and what he was doing, what he might have to do acting as an actual guard. For a higher purpose, but he had to be careful it didn’t corrupt his soul. It meant fighting against the very atmosphere of this place constantly, always aware of its effect. Always vigilant.

One of the other students managed to rise to a knee, but Roshike gave the man a hard look and he faltered back to the floor. It didn’t matter how talented Roshike showed himself to be. Since the system had tagged him as a potential enforcer it would be expected and shouldn’t seem suspicious. But he had to be careful not to demonstrate specific skills, the ones they might associate with the Kyoushi. So he’d been cautious when he’d started this training, taking the time to figure out how he could hide the techniques Tetsuba had taught him inside the maneuvers the guards practiced. Incorporating them made those crude moves much more effective than they would’ve been on their own. Especially for Roshike, who was smaller than most of the rest of the trainees. And now he was seeing the result.

It wasn’t as powerful as the pure Kyoushi style and couldn’t be used against the enforcers when the time came. But then he probably wouldn’t be worried about keeping his cover intact anymore. Until that day though, he couldn’t show his disdain for a fighting style based on brute force.

If he’d caused these other trainees a great deal of pain, at least he hadn’t actually caused them any real injury in incapacitating them. The instructors showed no such restraint, so they’d all still suffer—and have to visit the infirmary on a regular basis—regardless of how easy Roshike had gone on them. And he hadn’t been too soft.

It hurt his heart that he’d had to treat them so, but he couldn’t allow anyone to see him feel it, had to squash every expression of sympathy. That was the best he could do, but he strongly suspected the others lacked any such fellow feeling to begin with, that they’d been selected in the first place for a distinct lack of empathy.

He would just have to fake that as best he could. He’d tried to tailor his answers to the Batsu’s questions during the orientation test to fit the profile he presumed they were looking for in security. And if Mark hadn’t tricked the Gaku-net into tagging him as a potential engineer instead, Roshike would have had to begin this brutal training even earlier. That less stressful period—though it hadn’t seemed so at the time—had given him plenty of practice concealing his true self. Which was good, since he couldn’t allow anyone around him here to guess who he was or why he was here.

One of the three teachers finally nodded. Todo Wheaton with his broad, muscular frame and craggy face was the lead instructor, and he stepped forward. Walking around the trainees on the ground, and giving one of the moaning men a harsh kick in the ribs as he passed, he came and stood before Roshike, staring down at him with narrowed eyes.

Impressive. Though he made it sound like an insult. But before they’ll let you become an enforcer, you’ll have to prove yourself as a guard.

I will. Roshike would have to, to preserve his cover, even if he hoped he wouldn’t be around long enough to become an enforcer.

Todo snorted. Still, I suppose congratulations are in order, cog, you’ve been promoted up to level zero. The Gaku-net will determine what your regular duty is to be, but you won’t find out what that is until morning, when your screen gives you your directions. As always. Taking his own screen out of his shirt pocket, the man started tapping away, presumably to log Roshike’s new status, so he could be added to the work schedule.

Of course the Gaku-net would garnish the bulk of his wages then, but at least large sums of money owed wouldn’t continue accruing to his account for the privilege of this training. They claimed he’d be able to pay off his debt eventually, but it didn’t matter. He expected to escape this place soon. That or end up dead.

Yes, sir. Hopefully he was on his own for the rest of the evening then, as now that Roshike was a cog he’d be officially allowed out of the basement—and his first thought was of a proper supper.

In a grudging tone, Todo continued. Also, I’m required to inform you that you qualify to get extra work—if you want it—as an assistant instructor.

Roshike didn’t, particularly, but it would seem strange if he turned down what would certainly be a lot more lucrative than mowing grass for extra bits to pay down his debt. And he had to keep pretending he intended to do that. I’ll put in a request for that work right away, sir. And for one of the rooms down here for my new quarters. So if you could approve that too, I’d appreciate it. Sir. The obvious inference should be that he was attempting to keep his expenses down everywhere he could.

Todo gave a contemplative grunt. Roshike had no idea how much access the instructors had to the information in the trainees’ files, but they knew his history as a thief and a thorn in the enforcers’ side, and could guess what kind of fines the Batsu would have added to his account.

Frowning, the man tapped at his screen again. "Well, you’ll get your fill of real work I suppose, before they decide to take you. If they do."

Too much time spent working with the guards, it could contaminate Roshike in the eyes of the enforcers, or so he presumed. But he wouldn’t worry about that either.

While they’d been talking, the other two teachers had been pulling the other trainees to their feet and pushing them out of the hall. And presumably over to the infirmary to be scanned. Roshike gave a nod to his now former instructor and left off saying what he would’ve liked to say to the man, considering Todo still far outranked him, then turned to follow the straggling students. At least into the corridor. But after a couple steps, he stopped as he saw a pair of enforcers entering—dragging a young boy between them into the room.

In the harsh light it was impossible to miss the bruising on the boy’s face or the cut lip. And it was no wonder the kid wore a sullen expression. However Roshike was surprised to see him wearing the loose blue tunic of a trainee guard. What the—?

The two thugs in black suits strode straight toward Todo, each keeping a strong hand on one arm of the boy who couldn’t have been more than eleven or twelve years old. Even if the kid had fought back, there was no excuse for treating a child so roughly, and the sight made Roshike’s blood burn. The impulse to thrash those two enforcers was strong, and he had to force it down. With a promise to himself that they would pay, eventually.

After all, he could take out the pair of enforcers and Todo too, and probably fight his way out of the building, taking this kid with him—but then what? The Gaku was certainly large enough to hide in for quite a long time for someone with Roshike’s skills. But he’d blow his cover and end any chance of helping stop the Batsu.

Since that was the way to keep them from abusing anyone anymore, he had to take a deep breath, release his anger, and check his impulse to act. Roshike realized he was more committed than ever to ending their tyranny, but that didn’t make it easier to look at the boy before him or think of what must be coming next.

As the heat ebbed from his blood, he shook his head. Is this runt supposed to be a new student? Ignoring the enforcers, he turned to Todo. I didn’t know a batch of new candidates had come in, much less that they came so young. And this kid certainly doesn’t look like guard material.

But it was one of the enforcers who answered—in a cold voice as he squinted suspiciously at Roshike. "Not