Chương 11: Untouchable Terms

"Very well," the Director said, in a tone meant to close the subject.

"I will present the proposal to you, Mr. Vonesdar." Next to her chair, she pulled a plastic sleeve containing two documents from her bag, this time on real, old paper, a sort of form that had been printed some 30 years ago and was still used to seal agreements with unclassified entities. An original and a copy, which already bore a signature at the bottom, suggesting it could be either a mere formality or outright paranoia.

"One of the WID's purposes is to integrate awakened individuals into society. We handle everything, from licensing to interventions. When something falls outside normal parameters, all those matters end up in my hands, Mr. Vonesdar."

"Right, I see. So, I am outside normal parameters."

"You are not just outside normal parameters; you are outside all parameters." The Director placed the plastic sleeve between them.

"I will not try to contain you. That is what my experience tells me, and I am not naive enough to think that would be possible for an entity like you. But I need to fit you into our reality somehow," the Director said with conviction.

"The System is in a panic, and that is not a good sign for our society. And when the System panics, certain people start asking questions I would rather not answer. Well, I think I have made myself clear."

"But what are you proposing, Director?"

"I am proposing an informal consultancy, off the usual records." The Director tapped her finger firmly on the plastic sleeve.

"It goes like this. You keep your job, your apartment, and your precious anonymity that you value so much. In exchange, you occasionally answer a few questions for the WID. You give us your perspective; you help us understand things that the System cannot classify."

"Hmm, I see. And what if I refuse the proposal?"

"If you refuse, then I will have to submit a report stating that an unknown entity, with unprecedented powers, is working the night shift in Shibuya and could be a danger to our society. That report will be sent to people who are less diplomatic than I am, and considerably less cordial, can you imagine? People who prefer to contain first and ask questions later—if they ever ask them at all, of course."

"That sounds like a threat to me, Director."

"It ends up being an observation of reality, but as you can see, I am offering a good alternative." Soren took the plastic sleeve, pulled out a document, and began to read it. The document was surprisingly simple; it seemed to have no traps. A mere agreement for someone who had already read documents written in various characters and with various intentions, across different centuries. A basic consulting agreement with no binding commitments, revocable at any time by either party.

It even seemed fair, and the legal jargon was almost friendly.

"Director, have you done this before?"

"Excuse me? What do you mean? Done what?"

"Negotiated with things the System doesn't understand?" At that moment, Tanaka's expression faltered, just for a brief moment, which was uncharacteristic of her.

"You know, the world is more complicated than the public imagines. And sometimes, certain complications need to be managed, they need to be quickly identified. It is necessary to protect society; to do so, we must be ready for it."

"And how many more like me are there, Director? Can you tell me?"

"You know that information is classified, Mr. Vonesdar. It cannot be given out in a simple specialty coffee shop."

"Very well." Soren moved his lip into a sort of smile.

"I will interpret that as more than zero, surely." Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon. Tanaka remained impassive. She didn't deny it either, and Soren returned the documents to the center of the table, then took another sip of his tea. The infusion remained as excellent as it had been at the start of the conversation.

"I have conditions, Director."

"Right, right, of course you do," the Director said in an ironic tone.

"Here is the first. I keep my job. That is untouchable to me; think of it this way: I am contributing to Japan's economy. And that way, I won't become an unemployed citizen. No transfers, no protective custody, and no attempts to relocate me to some facility." The Director noted this.

"Acceptable, Mr. Vonesdar. Please proceed."

"Here is the second condition: no surveillance at my building. My neighbors are reserved and elderly people, and privacy is privacy, Director." The Director hesitated for a moment, leaned back in her chair, and tilted her head up to think about the matter.

"That, we weren't planning on."

"Right, but you were considering the possibility. And I would like you to stop considering it."

"Fine," the Director said, with some resignation.

"And now the third, Director. This is strictly advisory; I do not take orders from you, I do not follow protocols. Do not consider me an adventurer in the slightest, and if I help with something, it is because I choose to do so, not because you ordered me to, much less any of your other analysts."

"Hmm, that might be difficult, Mr. Vonesdar." Soren leaned forward over the table.

"Strictly advisory." She fixed her gaze on Soren, and he returned it, fixing his on her eyes. Café Lunem continued with its discreet murmur around them, as to some, it could even look like a romantic date between an older, perhaps divorced woman and a young man in his early thirties.

"Hold on there, Mr. Vonesdar, you are not exactly in a position to negotiate." At that moment, the air froze between the two of them. Keep calm, drink coffee. Soren still hesitated. Would a coffee cocktail have been a better idea for this meeting, instead of the infusion? More silence passed between them, and only then did the Director almost smile. It was a minimal but costly gesture from the most bureaucratic figure in Japan. It was a slight movement at the corner of her mouth, but it was there.

"Very well, Mr. Vonesdar, strictly advisory, but for now." The Director rose from her chair and extended her hand to him.

"Do we have an agreement?" Soren looked at her hand, then into the Director's eyes—unerring eyes—at the woman who didn't sleep, at the woman who sent him incessant messages, who was always on top of things, practical, cautious, and probably more dangerous than her rigid appearance suggested. Then he finally looked at the document which, at first glance, could represent security, or could also seem like a trap, depending on how the following months would unfold.

It was then that he shook her hand, and then finally remembered that modern-day etiquette required him to stand up as well, and so he did.

"We have an agreement."

"Excellent," the Director pronounced with a brief look of satisfaction. Then she let go of his hand and finally picked up her coffee; it was already colder than an ice cube, but she drank it anyway, all in one go.

"I should warn you right now: this job comes with an unofficial perk. This perk, let's say, is like a bonus for you. Later on, you will understand why."

"What is this perk, Director?"

"I'll give you a hint: there are irritating analysts who will probably want to study you, to analyze you. However, some might even come to admire you." Soren grimaced, as if he had chewed on a bitter fruit.

"I will make an effort to try and keep Hayashi under control, as he is extremely enthusiastic."

"Prepare yourself, Mr. Vonesdar."

"Do not worry, Director. I will survive."

"Right, but I have my doubts." The Director began to pack away her tablet, then tucked the official document into her bag. With a brief glance at him, she murmured quietly, "Welcome to the World Integration Division, Mr. Vonesdar," and then walked toward the exit. Before leaving, Tanaka looked back and said, "In a partial capacity, of course."

"Of course, Director." And she left without another word. Soren remained seated with his tea, with a copy of the document and the damn uncomfortable chair that was already making his buttocks ache. Then he looked at the document's title: Advisory. That word probably meant one thing to Tanaka and something completely different to him, depending on the interpretation, since agreements had a tendency to evolve, to create certain expectations.

However, they could turn an occasional consulting service into an essential resource and, later on, into a government-controlled asset. Soren had quite a creative imagination; actually, it was called experience, because he had seen this happen before. But for now, it was enough. He sighed. He finished his tea in one last gulp and left the money on the table. For the Director had only paid for her own coffee and didn't even have the courtesy to treat him to the damn seasonal infusion.

Nowadays, despite so much evolution, there were still few polite manners in society, since she was the one who had invited him to this meeting. It was then that he left Café Lunem to take in the Shibuya morning. It was too bright for someone who lived through the night, too noisy for someone who kept company with refrigeration units, but always the same as all the other mornings. It was exactly 1, 094 days, and they had now turned into a round number.

The countdown restarted, now with different terms, different risks, and new entities getting involved, but always with the same goal: surviving long enough to choose his own destiny.