23rdMarch 2086, 3 am.
“My brother wasa guitarist. I don’t know why he would show up years later with an oboe thatonly museum curators know how to play.” Suwan shrugged after he finished tellingthe brief story of their childhood.
“Your brotherreally was in the ’63 airport attack.” Walee pulled up some files on hertablet. “I’m really sorry.”
“Why are yousorry? It’s not like you’re involved.”
“Do you thinkyour brother was abducted and brainwashed by the you-know-who behind theattack?”
“Could be.”Suwan shrugged. “I thought of that. Either that or he’s been blown to bits thathis body couldn’t be pieced back together. I thought of that as well.”
The two sat inSuwan’s parlor with cans of beer and a plate of chips. The partygoers left along while ago, and the penthouse was dead quiet.
“You shouldspend the night here. It’s too late to go anywhere.” Suwan stared at thenow-empty plate of chips.
“I should.” Shereplied, then shut her tablet’s screen and leaned on the sofa with her eyesclosed. “I wonder if your brother secretly made it to Neo-Tokyo.”
“He’d havecontacted me. I trust him. There are a lot of things I can’t trust, but I knowthat if he’s safe, he’d at least leave some kind of message before going AWOLfor twenty-two damn years.” He stood up and grabbed the empty cans of beer,then threw it into the trash tube. “Either he’s not himself anymore, orsomething’s keeping him.”
“You don’t knowit with sons. Once they spread their wings, they disappear your life forgood. All my male cousins were like that.”
“Hey, at leastI’m pretty sure my brother isn’t that type.” Suwan pouted.
“Boss,” Waleestretched on the sofa, “there are things about the airport case that the higherups are hiding us.”
“Why do youthink so?”
“It may be oneof the smaller airports, but it was an airport with international flights.Maybe, there is some kind of inner politics at work here.”
“Just like theMemorial Hospital bombing?”
“Yes.”
“Huh. How doyou plan to extract that information, then?”
“I have ways.But I need your help as well.”
Suwan stared atWalee. She had permanent circles around her eyes that she never botheredhiding. He admired her dedication to her job.
“Oh, Walee,what would I do without you?”
“You’recapable, but with me around, you just don’t muster the energy.”
“How do youknow?”
Walee did notanswer. She got up and went inside his pleasure room (or guest room, as hecalled it) to grab a change of clothes and a shower. She heard a knock as shesoaped.
“The hairdryeris broken. I’m leaving mine outside the door. Dry your hair before going tobed. I changed the sheets. You know how to close the see-through screen,right?”
“Yeah.”
“Good night,then. Or should I say, good morning.”
“Whichever oneworks, boss. It’s just a greeting.”
Suwan left witha laugh.
23rdMarch, 2086. Morning.
“I didn’t knowyou were acquainted with someone the special force!”
Suwan’s voiceechoed in the room. Walee gave him a good jab to the side.
“I moveddepartments frequently before coming to you.”
Suwan saidnothing in response, probably afraid of getting another jab. He watched as theperson in front of them plugged some cords into their temples and neck, thenstared blankly at the screen in front.
“I can’timagine myself doing something like .” Suwan watched as the screen changed.Multiple instances of ‘Access Granted’ appeared, but the exact content was notshown. “What’re they doing?”
“Accessing thedatabase.” The person spoke up. “It’s going to be difficult here on out,but you two came to the right person. I’ll pull some stuff I found onto thescreen.”
“Thanks abunch.” Suwan had hands on his hips. “…What the heck? The names are censored.”
“That’s why Isaid it’s going to be difficult. I won’t be talking for a while, but restassured that I’m still alive. If I start getting seizures, please yank thecords out.”
“What the heck?Aren’t you some kind of top class…? And…they’re out. Huh.”
The two watchedas the agent pulled multiple tabs onto the large screen in front of them.
“ looksworse than the number of tabs on my browser.” Suwan scanned the contents. “Theairport bombing is connected to an underground group…with connections to thecurrent regime.”
“Makes sense,considering the attack happened during the transitory period. We just weren’tgiven any evidence.” Walee touched her chin. “Look. name comes up a lot,boss. Though it’s not connected to the airport bombing.”
“Madame Butterfly?”
“It’s an opera.I think you’d be more familiar with Miss Saigon, or maybe Sao Krua Fah.”
“Oh, right,Madame Butterfly is the original one. If I’m not mistaken, one of the agentsbelonging to Langka also goes by the codename Madame Butterfly.”
“Langka is notthe group behind bombing, though, at least according to these documents.”
“The groupresponsible for the attack, the very same people behind the current regime,used to be Langka’s rival. I’m not too sure what’s going on here, but we havesome leads.” Suwan sighed. “One problem, though. If I dig too deep into , Irisk putting myself up for arrest.”
“I will try tobail you out.”
“Enemies of thecurrent regime cannot be bailed out. Don’t you know how many of them starved todeath in prison? Ugh, makes me shudder.”
“Then we shouldbe investigating in secret. Good.”
“Yeah, good.”Suwan sighed. “If you want to bail out, now’s your chance.”
“Why would I?”
The man thoughtfor a while, then shrugged.
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