A Modern Nemo 35

Ruyichi Hayashi, or rather, Drake Forest, returned to his hotel room at the end of the day. As he opened the door, he found a small envelope on the floor. "Mr. Drake Forest" was written on it. Below the English name, he found "Ryuichi-kun" written below in Japanese.

So he wants to talk. thought Hayashi. Or maybe, he wants me to do the talking.

He pulled out his smartphone and called Onodera.

Carlos Bosque was standing on top of a low, rocky, cliff by the sea. From it, the harbor could be seen not very far away. He was carrying a bottle of wine in his right hand. The other hand was in the pocket of his blazer.

Drake Forest arrived. Bosque smiled and waved then put his hand back in his pocket. Forest waved back.

"Where is Onodera-senpai, Ryuichi-kun?" asked Mori as Hayashi approached him. "I thought I invited the both of you."

"Same reason why you didn't bring the big wrecker zombie with you."

"Now why would I do that, Ryuichi-kun?" asked Mori. "I've got nothing to hide."

"I'm sure you don't," said Hayashi, noting that the bell tower of the same church that Mori pointed at the other day was clearly visible over the latter's right shoulder. There was a reason why Mori barely moved from the spot he was standing. Hayashi knew it well.

Far off at the bell tower of the church, the giant Dutchman had Hayashi in the crosshairs of the scope of his sniper's rifle.

Mori grinned, sensing Hayashi had already determined where Joop was. But that was not a surprise.

"Now you know where Joop is," he remarked, "it's not a surprise that I know where Onodera-senpai is hiding."

He leaned sideways slightly, looking over Hayahsi's left shoulder towards the hill in the distance. There was a small, ancient stone hut.

Hayashi smirked. Mori was in the crosshairs of Onodera's own weapon, and he knew it.

"How about a drink?" asked Mori, lifting up the bottle of wine.

A Modern Nemo 34

Mancini walked swiftly toward the Embark. Entering the bridge, he found Konstantiniadis speaking with the captain. Konstantiniadis noticed him and bade the captain to take his leave. As the captain exited through the door opposite, Mancini walked towards his boss. "We have a problem, Tony," he said.

"What is it, Tom?" asked Konstantiniadis.

"Somebody seems to have gotten wind of our operations. We may have to speed things up a notch."

"What do you mean?"

"Four of our men were killed after trailing two suspicious-looking characters who were asking around about why so many of our ships are moving  together as a group," Mancini explained. "I have a hunch the EOGC's indirectly involved."

Konstantiniadis' face darkened. "What makes you say that?" he asked.

"Bosque says the weapon used to kill two of our guys was standard-issue EOGC equipment."

"Bosque, eh? Isn't he an ex-EOGC soldier?"

"He is."

"But why would Eric Ong suddenly get interested in my operations? Are you sure it's really Eric Ong or somebody with EOGC connections?"

"It may well be the latter," replied Mancini. "I'll have Bosque get to the bottom of it. Meanwhile, we need to move fast."

A Modern Nemo 33

Tom Mancini returned to his office and was taken aback when he saw Carlos Bosque sitting on his chair. Concealing his mild surprise he looked at the Asian man, who had his legs crossed and on the desk and smoking a cigar that he had taken from the cigar box.

"Did you find out anything, Bosque?" he asked coldly.

Bosque grinned, put his feet on the floor and stood up. "I don't know the identities of our quarry yet, Mr. Mancini," he replied as he walked toward the Green Oceans officer, "but I do know that a major organization has gotten wind of our activities and is actually trying to second-guess our objectives."

"Who?" demanded Mancini. "The US federal government? The European Union?"

"Whoever hired those people and killed our security men in the process apparently wants to keep his hands clean and his people's mouths shut. I suggest we should speed up with our operations before they overtake us."

"What do you mean? We have to move now?"

Bosque nodded.

"But it'll take days to get the entire fleet through the Suez Canal, not to mention, that many ships belonging to one company concentrated at one tiny spot will attract world attention."

"Not if we say our plan to move this many ships is part of our overall program of reshuffling the assignments of the various ships in he fleet."

Mancini looked at Bosque. "You're not coming, are you?" he asked.

"Oh, no," replied Bosque. "I'll be staying here to take care of our guests. Plus, I'll be doing some travelling to gather information. I think I'll start by going home and asking around."

"The EOGC, huh?" This, he knew about Carlos Bosque, a former member of the EOGC security forces. "You suspect the EOGC is behind this?"

"No," replied Bosque. "But there are many powerful entities doing business there. And besides, I suspect that our assassins were ex-EOGC servicemen. Those scissors recovered were standard-issue EOGC technical forces utilities."

"So we're dealing with hired guns at the moment, are we? Very well then. See to it that you give our guests a warm welcome."

"See to it that Mr. Konstantiniadis takes action," said Carlos Bosque as he walked out the door.

Mancini walked over to his desk and looked at the open cigar box. It was a gift from Konstantiniadis. Bosque had taken several cigars, in addition to the one he was smoking. Mancini clenched his teeth and fists and slammed to box shut.

Carlos Bosque, now Taro Mori, walked into at church later that day. He knelt at the rearmost pew with his back to the entrance of the bell tower. He took his hat off and made the sign of the cross in the Greek Orthodox style and bowed his head.

Presently heavy footsteps were heard behind him. A huge man with blond hair and a large, zigzag, scar on his chin loomed behind him. This man was bigger than Konstantiniadis, almost seven feet tall, and was almost completely draped in a black trench coat. The only other color came from a red turtle neck shirt that was barely visible  over the trench coat's collar. A deep, rumbling sound came from his throat.

Mori looked up. "Now, now, Joop." he said with a smile. "We should start by being hospitable." 

A Modern Nemo 32

Shoji Kawamura sat in the sauna. It was a long time since he last took a bath this way. But this time, it was also rather awkward; after the birth of Saya Shoji went along with Konstantiniadis, listening to the businessman's rants, with the North Korean following them. Now, the three of them ended up in a sauna. The businessman had invited them to come along and Shoji, eager to listen to more of his ideas, accepted his invitation; the North Korean followed automatically.

So now he was in a room, wearing only a towel. The steam was rising and Konstantiniadis was talking endlessly about building an artificial nation that moved across the sea, protecting the ocean's environment and controlling seaborne commerce.

He sat on a wooden bench, only a few feet away from Konstantiniadis, who was sitting on another bench. The North Korean sat far from them on another bench near the door. As he sat and listened, he became curious about one thing: Konstantiniadis wasn't talking about the people he met or relationships he had.

"Mr. Konstantiniadis," he began, mustering enough courage to bring the topic forth, "have you ever had any relationships outside business?"

Konstantiniadis paused. He toned down somewhat. It was silent in the room. "You know Shoji," he said, moving a little closer to the latter, "I've been blessed with a lot of success. I'm practically married to my job."

"But isn't that lonely?"

Konstantiniadis put an arm on Shoji's shoulder. "I'll be honest with you," he said, "I know you're an honest person so I can trust you. I've never had a girlfriend."

That was a shocking revelation.

"Why?" Shoji asked. "You're one of the richest men in the world. You have the money, the resources" -he glanced at the businessman's large, muscular, frame- "you have the assets. What girl wouldn't fall for you?"

"You see, that's the problem," mumbled Konstantiniadis in a rather embarrassed tone.. "The only thing girls see in me is my money. Never met a great girl in my life. Never had any lasting relationships. Had to turn to hookers because no normal woman would take me for what I am."

"Hookers? Why?"

"Because they're the only ones who can say the right thing at the right time and make you feel like you're on top of the world, even if it's just for a short time."

"You never had any lasting relationships?" Shoji became more intrigued.

Konstnantiniadis nodded. "If you can't please your girl, she'll leave you," he said.

Shoji looked at Konstantinidis from head to foot. What was wrong with a strong, good-looking, man with a herculean build? He wondered.

"But you're better than I am," he said to Konstantiniadis. "You have the wealth, the looks-"

"Wealth, looks, yeah," said Konstantiniadis as he leaned back and put his hands on his lap. "But when you go down there" -he nodded to indicate his lower regions- "that's when you see that nothing's alright."

"What?" exclaimed Shoji, bewildered.

Konstantiniadis looked at Shoji. "What kind of woman would fall for this?" he asked, standing up. He removed his towel to reveal what was underneath.

That was very tiny.

Shoji gaped.

Konstantiniadis put his towel back on and sat down. "Well, I bet you give Chidori the time of her life whenever the two of you feel like it."

"Well," murmured Shoji, "I-"

"Don't just sit there, show me what you got." said Konstantiniadis, gesturing at him.

Shoji sighed, rolled his eyes and stood up. He undid his towel.

"Damn!" Konstantiniadis swore, "that's even bigger than mine!"

Shoji quickly put his towel back on and sat down.

"That's huge!" Konstantiniadis continued.

"Huge?" repeated Shoji. He had been to bathhouses before back in Japan. There wasn't anything unusual about seeing other men naked. "It's normal," he said.

"Normal?" said Konstantiniadis. He began wondering if Shoji was just trying to be modest. He looked around and saw the North Korean gaping at the two of them in shock.

Konstantiniadis was already feeling very insecure. But when he saw the North Korean, some thoughts came to his mind. It was hard living there with famine a common occurrence. The result was too many unhealthy people in very bad shape.

"How about you?" he asked, pointing at the North Korean. "Is that thing you have under there normal?"

Kim Nam-ha swallowed nervously. He stood up and removed his towel.

The next scene comes as we see the three of them outside the sauna. What was revealed was truly frightening.

"Gad, that was huge," said Konstantiniadis in a low voice.

"Yeah," agreed Shoji, "huge."

Kim Nam-ha stood behind them, looking at them nervously.

A Modern Nemo 31

"Saya," said the mother as Chidori handed the baby over to her, "we decided to give that name if it was a girl."

"Saya-chan," said the mother ash she cradled the baby with her right arm. The father sat down beside her and held the baby as well.

"What was that song?" asked an awed Shoji.

"Suo Gan," replied Chidori, "I learned it in England."

"And she is our first citizen!" proclaimed Konstantiniadis with a raised thumb. He put his hands on Chidori 's and Shoji's shoulders. "I'd like to thank you all!" he continued, "for now, let's celebrate!"

A cheer went up.

The next day a man in white entered a bookstore after breakfast. Ruyichi Hayashi wanted to see some of the books for sale and a shelf caught his attention.

He had been reading for several minutes when he heard a familiar voice behind him speak in Japanese with a playful tone, "It's been a while, Ryuichi-kun. I didn't think you'd be here in Heraklion."

Hayashi responded in an equally playful tone, "I didn't expect you to show up either, Taro-kun. Are you on vacation?"

Both men  had their backs to each other, each one minding the books of the shelf he was facing.

"No, I'm not on vacation, Ryuichi-kun. I have a job."

"Let me guess, Taro-kun. You're working for Konstantiniadis this time?"

"Of course, Ryuichi-kun. And you're on official business as well, aren't you?"

"Surprised?"

"Initially. When those amateurs put the pair of  scissors on my boss' desk, I knew my good friend Ryuichi Hayashi was in town."

"And what is my good friend Taro Mori going to do? Turn me in?"

"Oh no, no, Ryuichi-kun," replied Mori. "You know I'm not like that."

"Knowing you, you haven't told your boss everything when you applied, haven't you?"

"Quite correct, Ryuich-kun," replied Mori. "To him, I go by the name of Carlos Bosque."

"That is so like you, Taro-kun: Carlos Bosque, Karel Bos, Karl Wald, Sen Tailang, Woody Charleston, Charles Laforet , Sup Tae-rang-"

"Whatever. I just wanted to catch up with my good friend Ryuichi-kun."

"You're quite the mercenary. Is there anything else?"

"Onodera-senpai  is here as well, yes? It would be excellent if the three of us got together again."

"And how are you going to do that, the usual way?"

"I'll extend an invitation, Ryuichi-kun. I hope you'll come," replied Mori. He set the book down and headed for the door, Hayashi following him.

Onodera approached the bookstore entrance when out came another Asian man around Hayashi's height and dresssed completely in black: fedora, v-necked t-shirt, blazer with rolled-up sleeves and slacks. His hands were in his pockets. This man tipped his hat while passing by Onodera. "Nice to see you again, Onodera-senpai," he said.

Onodera didn't move but followed the man from the corner of his eye. Hayashi came out from behind and stopped next to him.

"So he's here as well, isn't he?" remarked Onodera.

"He is," replied Hayashi, "and he's working for them."

"If he's here, then that means he is here as well," said Onodera, turning and looking at Mori.

As Mori continued walking, he lifted a hand and waved at them without turning around. Then he pointed to the tower of a nearby church. Onodera and Hayashi could see someone at the tower's balcony looking straight at them.

"That Dutch zombie," Onodera concluded.

Suo Gan

Lorenzo: The title of the song Chidori sang is "Suo Gan." It's a traditional Welsh lullaby. Here's a version of it being sung in church. King's College, I believe. And here's another one with the lyrics and translation:

Anselmo: I like the second version, but I don't understand why the y's and u's pronunciations got mixed up.

Lorenzo: It's another language; do the math.

A Modern Nemo 30

The four agents hadn't returned with their respective quarries, making Mancini, who was sitting at his desk, somewhat on edge.

Tom Mancini was Konstantiniadis' head of security. He was a former FBI officer and fully committed to the latter's cause, being frustrated with corruption in law enforcement that he left his job. He had succeeded in loading weapons onto the company's ships, creating hidden armories for each vessel. Konstantiniadis had a new job for him -that, we will take up later!

It started when Kim Nam-ha returned to the port after he had gotten lost but was saved by a stranger. the young north Korean had excitedly spoken about his rescuer in a way that made Mancini suspicious. It was part of his job to make sure that none of the people the business tycoon had taken under his wing spill any of the secrets. He knew the north Korean was honest. So there must have been something else that was afoot. People were already wondering what happened when many youngsters were joining Green Oceans and Mancini was not above using threats and intimidation to keep nosy figures at bay; there were even some who ended up sleeping with the fish.

Presently, there was a knock on the door. "Come in," said Mancini.

In came four other security men with disturbed looks. These were the men he had sent out to find the others who had trailed the north Korean's rescuer and his mysterious acquaintance.

"What happened?" Mancini asked.

"We found them sir," said one of them unnervedly. "But they're all dead."

Dead. So someone powerful was taking active notice. Back in the United States, Mancini had bribed operatives of the federal government into not conducting investigations. This time, it obviously wasn't someone from back home.

"Did you find out anything else?"

"Hauser and Romano were killed by these scissors," said the leader of the group, producing the scissors in a ziploc bag. "Reynolds and Cartman were strangled to death."

"No," said another man. "More like their necks were broken."

There was another man in the room an Asian; he was seated on a sofa next to the door with his legs crossed, arms folded, head lowered and eyes deep in thought. Upon mention of the word "scissors," he opened his eyes as the scissors were placed on Mancini's desk. Mancini noticed this.

"Clean up everything," said Mancini, looking at the scissors, "and make sure the the local police don't ask any questions."

"Yes sir," said the men.

After the door was closed, Mancini turned to the man sitting right next to it. "You know anything about this?" he asked him.

"I already have suspicions," came the reply.

"Look into it."

The Asian man stood up, bowed to Mancini and walked out the door.

The baby was delivered before the doctor arrived. It was a girl. She was crying a lot; even when placed next to her mother, she didn't calm down. While everybody was overjoyed, they were also wondering how to calm her down. When given to her father, she didn't stop crying. When given to Konstantiniadis, she didn't stop crying. When given to Shoji, she, well, didn't stop crying.

Finally, Chidori took her, rocked her gently and sang a song in a language that was neither english nor japanese:

Huna blentyn ar fy mynwes

Clyd a chynnes ydyw hon;

Breichiau mam sy'n dynn amdanat,

Cariad mam sy dan fy mron;

Ni chaiff dim amharu'th gyntun,

Ni wna undyn â thi gam;

Huna'n dawel, annwyl blentyn,

Huna'n fwyn ar fron dy fam.

Huna'n dawel, heno, huna,

Huna'n fwyn, y tlws ei lun;

Pam yr wyt yn awr yn gwenu,

Gwenu'n dirion yn dy hun?

Ai angylion fry sy'n gwenu,

Arnat ti yn gwenu'n llon,

Tithau'n gwenu'n ôl dan huno,

Huno'n dawel ar fy mron?

Paid ag ofni, dim ond deilen

Gura, gura ar y ddôr;

Paid ag ofni, ton fach unig

Sua, sua ar lan y môr;

Huna blentyn, nid oes yma

Ddim i roddi iti fraw;

Gwena'n dawel yn fy mynwes

Ar yr engyl gwynion draw.

When she finished singing the child went into a deep, peaceful sleep.