12:00pm, Thursday the 9th October, 2132.

Naka-Sura Multinational was headquartered in a gargantuan structure in western Kanto known as the Hexagon. The Hexagon consisted of six towers arranged at the six points of a hexagon, with the first tower sitting neatly at 550 metres tall and each tower after it increasing in height by a further 100 metres until the final reached over a kilometre. Each tower ended in a sharp tip, and from the distance they looked like black thorns trying to pierce the sky.

“Do you know how many people they employ?” Asked Kato.

“Naka-Sura? I don’t know. A mil? Maybe two?” Greaves replied, her fingers swiping idly at a tablet showing her social media.

“10.3 million people… And that’s just in Japan.”

“Wooooooow,” Greaves replied, her faked interest being betrayed by her sarcasm.

“A hundred years ago that was more people than some countries had. Back when Kanto was still just Greater Tokyo, the entire population was only 40 million… Give or take. Hell, back then it was more people than New York had, or London.”

“Kato, I’m bored. Get to the point,” said Greaves.

“My point is that it’s a lot of people. An unimaginable number of people. Can you picture 10 million people stood in one area?” Asked Kato. “Can you imagine the chaos that could erupt if even a fraction of 10 million employees were told to go out and kill their competitors?”

“Well they’d outnumber us, that’s for sure. But then again, we do have tanks.”

“I’m pretty sure they do too.”

The Hexagon was growing closer now, and they left the forest of buildings and holographic commercials behind them to drive along a completely levelled and flattened ground that surrounded it for nearly a kilometre in every direction. It was a security measure, a demilitarized zone that ensured nothing could get close to them without them seeing. It was a cold concrete floor made warm in the mid-day sun.

Two checkpoints with armed security were set up in each of the four cardinal directions around the Hexagon; one checkpoint at the entrance to the flattened area, and another by the Hexagon itself. Kato’s car had automatically been flagged as a police vehicle and allowed to pass the first checkpoint without manual interaction, but both detectives knew that they had no authority to get past the second. All they could hope for was that Naka-Sura was willing to cooperate.

Kato’s car slowed to a halt in front of a concrete barrier with flashing lights and a ‘no entry’ holosign in deep neon blue. Several fully-armoured security guards stood around wielding rifles, which Kato noted in irritation were a newer model of the Katana assault rifle than the police had, and large auto-turrets scanned the area carefully. One guard wearing a black helmet approached the car, and Kato’s window slid down with an electronic whir.

“Clearance?” The man asked, his accent heavy and German.

Kato took out his police identification card, as did Greaves, and the guard looked at them and scanned. After a few seconds of silence, the guard spoke again: “how can we help you, detectives?”

“We’re here to speak to your security department about Naka-Sura Multinational security contractors who may have witnessed a murder,” Kato replied, quick and to the point. “If possible, we would like to speak to those contractors.”

The guard went silent again, his visor reflecting Kato’s car – a warped, elongated impression in the sunlight. No words were spoken for several seconds, but it was obvious someone was speaking to the guard inside his helmet. Most people those days had earpieces or buds which sat comfortably in the ear, but the wealthy and powerful could afford implants that stimulated the inner ear bones and were completely silent to eavesdroppers. Kato wondered which the guard had.

“I apologize, detectives, but such a thing will be impossible at this time,” the guard told them.

“That’s bullshit,” Greaves suddenly said from the other side of Kato. “We’re detectives with the KMPD Serious Crimes division. You can’t just get in the way of us doing our jobs by claiming something is ‘impossible’.”

“Actually, I can,” the guard said. “Right now, we’re not allowing anyone to enter the Hexagon – even the police. As owners of this private property, Naka-Sura Multinational has the right to extend or deny an invitation of entry to whoever it pleases. Without a warrant, I’m afraid I must ask you to turn back the way you came.”

Greaves looked pissed. “You’re a ballsy fucker,” she swore, knowing as well as the guard did that a warrant in that circumstance would be impossible to get. She was about to throw a string of crude insults at him, but Kato raised his hand and stopped her.

“It’s true we can’t enter without a warrant, but we have the ID numbers of the men we wish to speak to. Naka-Sura Multinational, their employers and representatives, have exactly 24 hours to deliver these witnesses to the investigators, which are us, from the moment a request has been given, which was at 2.30am this morning. If Naka-Sura fails to comply with a witness request presented by Serious Crimes, then the company executives who made that decision could have charges brought against them for perverting the course of justice, amongst others. And that… Well that will get us a warrant,” explained Kato, with Greaves looking increasingly smug the more he spoke.

The guard almost shrugged at them. “A warrant to arrest those individuals, yes. Which Naka-Sura would hand over, leaving no legal standing to enter our property.”

“I’m not going to sit here and argue law all afternoon. All we want is to ask some questions – that’s it! Your guys aren’t even suspects,” Kato tried to plead.

“We will have them contact you, Detective Sergeant. Until then, please turn your vehicle around drive away.”

Kato wanted to argue again, but the guard simply turned and walked back to his post and completely ignored them.

“Un-fucking-believable,” muttered Greaves. “We’re being turned away at the door like plebs.”

Kato’s window rolled back up, and he selected an option on the dashboard to have the car to take them back to the station. “We are plebs,” he told her. “And plebs aren’t allowed in the castle.”

As the car reversed, turned around and headed back through the first checkpoint, Greaves pulled up a small, clear device that resembled a smart-phone. “Positive ID came back on the other body,” she said, showing Kato the screen. “That old man was telling the truth – Fukase Keizo.”

Kato glanced at it but didn’t acknowledge, a non-reaction he often had when something was proven that he already knew. “On second thought, I’m heading home for some sleep,” he told her as the car slipped back into the forest of concrete, glass and steel. “Do you want dropping off at your place?

“I guess so,” she replied. “Aren’t you heading back to the precinct?”

“What for?” He asked. “Nothing for us to do there now until we get lab results or can speak to those witnesses.”

“The reports can wait ‘til later, eh?”

“I mean, I can do them at home. I have a PC you know. Also, Greaves, did you notice back there that they really didn’t want anyone going in?”

Greaves looked at him strangely. “Did I notice? Yeah, I think I might have,” she said.

“No, I mean they really didn’t want anyone going in. They couldn’t wait to get rid of us - they didn’t even take the IDs of the guys we want to speak to.”

“I guess they already knew who they were,” she replied. “Unless you’re trying to say… You think they might have had something to do with it beyond having witnesses there?”

Kato looked across at her, his silent face saying everything.

“Shit.”

7:42pm, Thursday the 9th October, 2132.

The darkness behind Aiden King’s eyes grew brighter with artificial light, but it was the feeling of being unable to move that finally woke him. Thick straps held his arms and legs down against an uncomfortable bed, and they pressed against his chest just enough to make his breathing restricted. His eyes opened to a harsh light above him, and for a moment he thought how the cream ceiling reminded him of a hospital room.

Ow!

The stabbing pain was not enough for him to make an audible noise, but it brought him to attention. He couldn’t move his head to see the source of the pain, but it felt like a needle – and he swore he could feel a liquid going into his arm.

“He’s awake,” a woman said to his side. He could see the white coat she wore, and her dark hair, but not her face.

“We should let them know,” said another voice belonging to a man. He could not see the man at all, as though he was purposefully standing off out of view.

“Not yet,” the woman said. “I want a real blood sample. Somehow I can’t get one… It’s almost like he doesn’t bleed.”

“The doctors took blood samples earlier, didn’t they?”

“That wasn’t his. It belonged to the victim.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“I’m a professional. I don’t kid.”

Aiden felt another sharp pain and wanted to open his mouth and tell her to stop, but he realized something was stopping him from speaking. “Shit, still nothing,” the woman said.

“We have exactly five minutes,” explained the male.

The woman leaned over him then and looked down into his eyes. She was in her mid-thirties and slim, and she was so close that Aiden could make out the screens of her purple contact lenses. “Then we’ll just have to skip to a… Different sample.”

Aiden suddenly struggled against his binds, and the woman leaned back from him and laughed. “His strength is returning quickly. It won’t be long until he’s able to get escape,” she explained. “Do you think he’s like the others?”

“It seems that way. I had always heard there were twelve. Are you done?”

“I’m done.”

“Good. Let’s go,” the male voice said, followed by the sound of footsteps moving towards the door.

“Hang on, I at least want to give this one a chance,” said the woman.

“Do what you want. I’ll wait outside.”

A door opened then closed, and suddenly the woman was leaning over him again.

“They don’t know your name, or who you are, but they have your face now. Avoid public places, avoid cameras and identity checkpoints,” she told him quickly, looking down into his eyes. “You are in Fukaya General Hospital. Outside and down the hall, a police escort from the KMPD guard the entrance to this room because you were caught passed out on a near-deceased woman with grievous neck wounds and little remaining blood. Why you didn’t wake until we woke you, I don’t know. In a moment, I am going to leave this room and you will most likely never see me again. Several minutes after I leave, this hospital will be invaded by mercenaries under the guise of performing a terrorist attack. Their real goal, however, is to kidnap you. It is my professional opinion that you do not want either of those things to happen, and you should do absolutely everything in your power to stop it.”

Aiden’s mind was racing now, and equal parts fear and adrenaline were filling his veins. He opened his mouth again but no words came out, and the woman looked at him curiously until a thought suddenly came back to her. She pressed her finger gently against his lips to shush him, then with her other hand she quickly pulled a tiny chip from his throat. “Speech blocker. Didn’t want you alerting anyone,” she explained.

“Help me!” Aiden hissed in fear, his voice barely more than a whisper despite his effort to shout as he struggled against his straps. “Let me out!”

The woman stepped back away from him, ignoring his request. “I don’t know what you are, kid, but you definitely drew the short straw. Maybe you’ll at least take some of them out with you before you go.”

“Wait, don’t leave!” Aiden begged, but it was too late. The woman had already left his view, had already opened and shut the door and left him alone in that bright hospital room.

Thoughts and questions began to fill him. He was going to be attacked? How would he get out? Did he kill Nami? Why did he kill her? Why couldn’t he remember anything after going to sleep? What was happening to him? Everything was so confusing, and going so quickly, and he had no idea who anyone was or what anyone wanted with him – or what he was supposed to do.

He needed to stop. He needed to cease panicking, control his breathing, and think of a way out of his situation just like his mother used to tell him. He had always been smart, she used to say, but what good was that if he wasn’t using it? Be began to breathe in and out, slowly, and examine his situation.

His first and most immediate problem was the hospital bed. He couldn’t run, couldn’t defend himself, while his movement was so restricted by the straps that held him. He couldn’t move his head to see them, but by shifting himself he could begin to feel what they were; thick, heavy… And possibly leather? But leather was old and hard to get, so more than likely it was an advanced polymer made to resemble it. That was bad – leather was tough to break anyway, and even if that were ever an option the polymer would be even tougher.

The buckles then? Could he undo them somehow? The only way he could feasibly get his arm free was to somehow dislocate his shoulder, and even if he could do that it was doubtful.

Shit. If the woman was right, he was fast running out of time.

He tried the bed next, tried to shift his entire weight the little he could to move the bed in its entirety. If he could get it to hit something, get something sharp to fall, perhaps he could cut his way free. But that didn’t work either; the bed was too large, too heavy. If it was a wheeled bed then the breaks were down, and it left him stranded there in the centre of the room.

There was nothing he could do. No proactive action he could take to escape his situation – he was, quite literally, forced to await his fate. They were coming… He could feel it in his flesh, feel an ache of danger in his bones. Every second they were getting closer to him, and he was coming gift-wrapped for their convenience.

There was nothing proactive he could do. Only reactive.

He took a final, deep breath to calm himself… And a second later the ceiling light cut out and left him in darkness. He couldn’t control his situation, so his only option was to take advantage of it.

He closed his eyes like he had never woken.