Mumbling his thanks, he took the black band she held out. It was so like her. Knowing he’d probably forget the band, she’d taken it upon herself to keep him from making a gaffe of corporate etiquette. Like a good helpmate, she understood those little details that seemed so meaningless but were worth points on the corporate ladder. Loyal, attentive, ambitious for him, and not least of all, charming and pretty, she was everything a salaryman could want in a woman. He should formalize their relationship, but something inside him held back.

Hanae followed him into the bedroom to check her makeup while he finished dressing. The minor was near his computer console. Too late, he realized he had not blanked it. He could see her reading the screen as he pulled on his shoes.

“You still haven’t sent off your letter to Sate-sama?”

Not now. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“You really should,” she insisted softly.

“What’s the use? If Sato remembers me at all, he remembers our last meeting at the hospital in Tokyo. He made it abundantly clear that he resented wasting time on me, even if Aneki-sama thought it worthwhile. Sato has no love for gaijin and still less for anyone who might threaten his position by siphoning off Aneki-sama’s attention.”

She looked confused. “But you weren’t a threat to him.”

“Aneki-sama was watching my career. That’s threat enough for someone like Sato.”

“You’re exaggerating. Sato-sama is a smart man. He couldn’t be otherwise to become Aneki-sama’s special assistant. He knows that a simple researcher would never be a threat to a man of his position. You must have misinterpreted his intentions.”

“Misinterpreted? He seemed pleased enough to see me exiled to the arcology. Everybody knows that the only people who have any real future with Renraku work out of the home offices in Japan. The arcology project may be important, but it’s just a side show.”

“Of course it’s important.” She seemed offended that he could think otherwise. “That’s why you’re here. Aneki-sama probably wants you to get experience you’ll be needing later. It’s just a stepping stone, not a punishment.”

“You really don’t understand, do you?” A familiar rage made Sam snap at her. “I saw Sato’s face when he told me about what had happened to Janice. He enjoyed giving me the bad news.”

“That’s unkind.”

“He was unkind. No, cruel. Not that he cared what happened to my sister. He was pleased at what it meant for me. Whether Janice lived or died, she had shown that the Verner bloodline is what they call tainted. As if not being Japanese weren’t taint enough for someone like him. Like everything in Japan, the kawaru affects more than the one who is changed. A whole family can be destroyed. My sister’s metahuman blood is enough to bar me from rising in the corporation.”

“But they didn’t fire you,” Hanae observed as though that settled the question.

“Doesn’t make a lot of sense, does it? I’ve often wondered why. I’ve heard of enough others who’ve been sacked under similar circumstances.”

“Perhaps it was Aneki-sama’s influence. He was your patron and wouldn’t abandon you. So you see, he probably sent you here for training.”

Her optimism never failed to cheer him, perhaps even more so when it helped him to continue believing in his old life. “Maybe he didn’t abandon me. But even the head of a major multinational corporation has to bow to the immense power of social conventions in Japan. This exile to Seattle was probably the best he could do, perhaps an expression of regret for the dictates of unfortunate circumstances.”

Hanae smiled. “Aneki-sama is a good man.”

“Whatever the intention, Renraku is keeping me away from Janice when she needs me the most. They’ve blocked every attempt to see her.”

“It’s hard to believe that Aneki-sama could allow such a thing.”

Sam’s new doubts made him wonder, but another part of him still wanted to believe that Aneki was, indeed, a good man, that it was others who were corrupting Renraku.

“Someone else must be responsible,” she concluded.

“Like Sato?”

“I don’t think so,” Hanae said firmly. “Aneki-sama would never let such nastiness so close to him.”

Again, Sam wanted to believe, but he had heard the viciousness in Sato’s announcement with his own ears and who was closer to Aneki-sama than Sato? Sato might be the villain, or he might not. Sam had no evidence other than the man’s disagreeable nature. Not knowing who to blame only made Sam angrier and more frustrated. “Whoever is responsible, I am stuck here in Seattle, confined to the arcology ‘for security reasons.’ What a joke! They haven’t let me near any sensitive data since I arrived. They keep me busy on trivial researches. I’ve done my job and been a good little researcher, but I still don’t know what happened to Janice.”

“Maybe you should hire someone,” she suggested.

“With what? Arcology prices are outrageous. With my lower job rating, I haven’t got enough credit to hire a detective even if they would let me contact one.”

“Then you should work through the corporation.”

“What do you think I’ve been trying to do for the past year?” Sam snapped. “It hasn’t done any good. Janice has become a nonperson to Renraku. I know they provided her with the usual benefits of relocation and restart money, but that’s all I know. The Imperial Japanese government is scrupulous about that. They despise metahumans, but they do care about their global image as a compassionate government. Compassionate! Metahumans are the new bunrakumin in Japan; a new class of outcasts, doomed to misery, poverty, and the dirty jobs that the upper classes disdain. Even the bunrakumin look down on metahumans. That’s what Janice has now.”

Hanae quailed from his intensity, fright in her eyes. Having been raised entirely within the corporate environment, she still believed in the corporation and the great zaibatsu spirit. She was even more sheltered than Sam had been at the moment his step into the shadows showed him that all was not as it seemed. Hanae truly didn’t understand what he was trying to tell her.

There was no point in pushing the issue. His own feelings were in turmoil; he didn’t need to upset her further. Shrugging into his suitcoat, he said lamely, “We’re late.”

Hanae nodded timidly and took the hand he offered. “We can talk more later if you want.”

He reminded himself that she only wanted to help. “Sure. Later.”