Ninja Girl
Chapter Thirty

“What the hell is this?”

Nick found himself in a cavernous room. It was clearly some sort of laboratory, lined wall to wall with monitors, devices, computers, equipment, and various other pieces of technology. The most remarkable thing about all of this, though, was the fact that there was almost not a single piece of technology in the entire room that looked in any way familiar to Nick.

One piece of technology was a long, wedge-shaped metal piece that literally floated a couple feet above a glowing platform. It slowly revolved in a circle, yet despite this gave no indication as to its function. Another piece was a screen and keyboard that seemed to simply be light projected from an unknown source and hung in the air like that was obviously where light would form into the shape of a screen and keyboard. Another device looked like a futuristic cross between a gun and a canon.

The most striking piece of all, though, was literally center stage. In the center of the room stood a small, circular stage, and in the center of that stage was a monolithic metal structure. It looked to Nick like a massive door frame, minus the door, except for the fact that there were various electronic devices and wires attached to it. It also seemed to… hum… like it was itself a computer.

“This… this is…” Nick gasped as he walked through the room, “this is… What the hell is this?”

“This is the future,” explained Valentin. “This is the technology, the inevitability that you have been fighting against.”

“You’ve created all of this?”

“We have created almost none of it.” Nick tore his gaze from a small, shiny black ball that seemed to decide of its own accord when it was a good time to start bouncing around and stared at his tour guide. “It’s true,” Valentin continued. “This technology was… brought to us, and we have been working for over thirty years just to understand. Not just understand it, to be able to fight it.”

“Brought to you?” Nick’s eyes narrowed in confusion. “What the hell does that mean? Who brought it to you?”

They came to a scientist at a workstation and stopped. “This is Greely,” Valentine said, motioning to the scientist. “Greely, show our guest the videos.”

The scientist – a small, mousy man with slicked back brown hair and close set eyes – considered Nick with suspicion and disdain. “Are you sure?”

“He will join us, or he will die,” answered Valentin simply.

Greely frowned, but obeyed. He turned to his screen and began tapping away on it. The lights around them dimmed, and a nearby wall lit up like a television. A man’s face appeared on the screen.

The man was young, with sandy blonde hair, light stubble, and a light, healthy tan. He had piercing blue eyes under bushy, sandy eyebrows and a youthful glow. His clothing was clean and pressed, his lab coat about the whitest white Nick had ever seen.

“Geoffrey Holmes,” the man on the screen said, his voice buoyant, even eager, “video log one. It is a pleasure to begin work here. The technology that Ryerson has shown me… it is unlike anything else on the planet. It is all so complex and different. Most people can’t even begin to imagine equipment like this, and I am going to get to work with it every day for the foreseeable future. Look at me, ma, I’m here saving the world.”

The image on the screen went away, and then was replaced by another picture of Geoffrey Holmes. He looked about the same age, but now his hair was disheveled, his clothing messy, crumpled, and dirty. He looked tired, but determined.

“Geoffrey Holmes, video log four. The lab is… chaos. It is a disaster. The experiment went wrong in so many ways I can’t even begin to count. We weren’t ready for this level of exploration with the technology. We had no idea what we were getting ourselves into. I’m recommending we keep the frame closed. Permanently, if possible. That thing will never pose anything but a danger to us.

“If there was ever any doubt about what we are doing here, that doubt is gone now. If there was any question about the necessity of our work, those questions have been put to rest. This technology… this technology is most certainly our salvation. Without it, there is no hope for the future. Attacks like this will happen again. It’s not a question of ‘if.’ It’s a question of ‘when.’ We must do everything we can to be prepared.”

The image changed a second time. Geoffrey was cleaned up now, back to looking mostly as he had in the first video. There was an expression of annoyance on his face, but the youthful exuberance and determination were clearly still there.

“Video log seven. We have shown the U.N. the evidence, but they have starkly refused to authorize our planned experimentation. I am almost not surprised. Only politicians could be so foolish and shortsighted. What we see as an immediate threat, they label an ‘uncertain potential,’ and they aren’t willing to risk their political careers on something that’s not a clear and present danger. They actually see our experiments as the bigger threat. It’s absurd, but not unexpected. The project will continue, we will just have to be more cautious with what information gets out.”

Once again, the image changed. Geoffrey was mostly the same, but he looked just a little older and little more tired. Yet time had not removed the determination from behind his eyes.

“Video log thirteen. The discovery of the Ryuhoshi ninja clan was a happy accident. They are a relic of the past, true, but that might be just what we need. In this day and age, everyone is too used to the conveniences of technology, but those conveniences will provide no aid in the coming war. The ninja are trained from birth in the art of war - in physical, melee combat. If we can take that skill, hone it, and combine it with the modern and the technological, we may just develop our best chance at winning this war.

“One of their number, a… ‘Kokatsu,’ has come forth as a volunteer. He has agreed to help us if we can promise protection from the retribution of his tribe. We can promise this, but what he doesn’t realize is the experiments have already begun.”

Another change, another show of time and age on the man’s features.

“Video log seventeen. The Ryuhoshi have discovered our connection with Kokatsu. We may be forced to pull him earlier than originally anticipated. No matter, we can continue our experiments on him, and keep watching the village from afar for other potential candidates.”

“Video log thirty-nine. We will be sending Kokatsu back to his village soon to collect further specimen. There are a number of interesting individuals who may fit our needs. There is one of particular note. A girl of maybe fifteen or sixteen. She is the daughter of Hitomi, and her age would put her conception right around the time of… the incident. If… if she is Kokatsu’s daughter, her physiology may make her uniquely suited for special experiments with the technology. We will need to keep an eye on her.”

“Video log forty-one. The culling was not entirely a success. While we did get some promising candidates, we failed to get both Ryoichi and Anya, our two most wanted. What’s worse, is we attracted far too much attention to ourselves. The tribe is angry. They are demanding blood. We may need to sacrifice Kokatsu and the remaining specimens to satisfy their wrath and continue our experiments. Even if Kokatsu is killed, we should be able to continue to make use of him. In fact, it might make things more interesting. The others will serve our needs simply by undergoing the transformations. A real world battle also presents a unique opportunity to collect data on them. If they do not die, it will give us a chance to get our hands on our real candidates. Honestly, I can see no real reason to not offer this sacrifice.”

This time when Geoffrey’s face reappeared, all traces of the youthful exuberance and determination were gone. In its place was only the face of a tired old man. His beard had grown out, his hair was shaggy, his skin pasty and creased.

“Video log forty-five. The ryuhoshi persist in their anger towards Ryerson. It seems that their thirst for blood was not quenched by the sacrifice of Kokatsu and the others. Again, I fail to see this as a problem. Anya has joined the group attempting to learn about us. In doing so, she has left herself greatly exposed. During a battle, one of our agents will be able to inject her with samples of the technology. This will grant us control over her we never expected to have. Then once we have her, we will also have Ryoichi. The project is reaching an important juncture. We will – we must – be ready in time for whatever comes next. Kokatsu, Ryoichi, and even Anya will help pave the way for that.”

This time when the screen went blank, nothing appeared to replace it. The wall returned to looking like just another grey, empty wall and the lights came back up. Nick blinked and looked around the room, dumbfounded.

“Um, that’s it?” He asked.

“Yes,” said Valentin.

“Uh… that didn’t explain anything! If anything, it left me more confused! Where the hell did this technology come from? Does anyone even know? What the hell was that attack about? Who attacked? Who destroyed the lab? What the hell is so frightening that it made this guy so obsessed? For that matter, who the hell was that guy?”

“That was Geoffrey Holmes,” Greely explained. “He has been the head researcher behind this project since it began. At this point, he practically is Ryerson.”

“Oh, yes, thank you, that was the question I really needed an answer to. Everything is all so clear now that I know about Fartface McGee and his power trip.”

“There are more videos, and more information we can give you,” Valentin explained, “but that would come in time. We would need you to join us, to help us in our quest. Will you not join us? Do you not now see the necessity behind our experiments?” Valentin asked.

“Necessity? Wait, was that supposed to convince me of something? Because the only thing your bizarre – and pointless – little slide show presentation there convinced me of is that you people really are a bunch of crazy nutbags with some serious delusions of grandeur.”

“Very well,” Valentin said. He waved one hand in the air, a signal to his men. “Kill him.”