Page 28 of Pandion

Chapter 11

Ayoung woman in EA’s customary blue-and-white work uniform retrieved Harumine from the entrance and led him through the quiet office building.

The woman reminded him of a stewardess or a lift attendant, but something hinted this was not going to be an enjoyable ride. She escorted him to a security gate and instructed him to take a seat back towards an examination desk. Once he’d sat down, she adjusted a tool tray into place behind Harumine’s head.

“This is standard procedure,” she said and, by the irksome sounds of it, donned a pair of disposable gloves right byHarumine’s ear. “It may cause slight mental discomfort, but it shouldn’t hurt.” She attached something to Harumine’s port. A disconcerting squeaky hiss startled him as it slotted into place.

“Oh, almost forgot, you’ll need to sign this.” She handed him a tablet, seemingly unconcerned that he had neither the time or the frame of mind to read it through carefully. “If you could please sign it quickly as we are running slightly behind schedule.”

Harumine was tempted to take a few minutes extra to read the damn thing but refrained because he’d arrived on the dot instead of the expected polite minimum of ten minutes early.

“The device will cut your communication with your organism for the duration of the review,” she explained. “It can momentarily feel distressing, but it’s temporary.”

Harumine flicked out his seal, pressed the e-sign button to sign the document and handed the tablet back to the woman in one smooth motion. She seemed to do a final check that everything was in order before she flipped a switch.

Any trace of Kagesawa within Harumine’s consciousness vanished in an instant. He could tell the tendrils of his organism were still there, alive and well, but none of them activated when he tried to project. It was indeed a supremely unwelcome feeling. The lack of response made the organism feel more distinctly like a separate entity.

“This way, please.” The woman guided him through a corridor and to a set of lifts. Harumine entered a lift, and she sent him up to the third floor by swiping a keycard.

The doors opened up to another corridor. Harumine stepped out and waited. There were no seats here, only doors with numbers on them. The silence was worse with no access to his link. It had been years since he’d felt this alone inside his head.

The click of a lock and a door opened somewhere down the hall. Harumine waited.

Two men in suits exited the room, one of them leaving in the opposite direction, the other turning towards Harumine.

“Harumine-san. This way, please.” The man held the door open for him. Harumine hurried to slink through into what was a small office with some obscure medical equipment in it. “Take a seat.”

It was another seat with a suspiciously neck-height adjustable tray behind it. The other man returned with a set of instruments and arranged them on the tray behind the seat they’d so kindly prepared for Harumine.

Harumine cringed but sat down. The lighting in this room had that slightly irritating, almost undetectable flicker to it. It made Harumine feel ill. Was it coincidental or an intentional tactic to make him uncomfortable? If the latter, they’d for sure succeeded. In fact, a little less would have been enough.

“My colleague here will perform a few checks on your port. Nothing to worry about.” The first man took a seat behind a desk and pulled out a stack of forms from one of the drawers.

Were they also going to torture him by making him fill out forms? He’d sensed something unpleasant was about to happen, but bureaucracy? He felt chills.

Revert to initial settings. Code seven dash five, project ID: Pandion.

Harumine jumped in his seat. “What was that?”

“That’s where it cuts off,” the man behind him said. The man at the desk frowned and looked at his screen.

“Strange,” he mumbled.

“Excuse me, but what the hell was that?!” Harumine had just heard a projection coming from somewhere and it wasn’t himself or Kagesawa. He wasn’t even supposed to be connected to anything.

“Ah.” The man at the desk seemed to be looking at the person behind Harumine. That they hadn’t even bothered to introducethemselves made the corner of Harumine’s eye twitch from squinting so hard. “It’s just feedback from the plugin.”

“What plugin?” Harumine gripped the handles of his chair, resisting the urge to turn around and question the man meddling with his port behind his head. The two of them seemed to be communicating something back and forth—empaths likely linked.

The man at the desk sighed.

“It’s of no consequence now. My colleague will remove it from your port.”

“Why is there a plugin in my port? What is it for?” Harumine hadn’t noticed anything during his last diagnostic check. The SEU had a strict policy of not installing any extra files into the port because it was shameful to rely on enhancements when you’d been provided the best training in the country. How the hell had some random plugin ended up in Harumine’s port?

“The head supervisor will explain this to you once we are done here.” The man at the desk seemed to resume something on his BCI. An occasional glance at his colleague hinted at a conversation Harumine wasn’t privy to. The silence was really getting on his nerves.

The man behind him moved the tray away and left the room. The man at the desk glanced at Harumine, but he, too, walked out of the room without another word.

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