The Answer to the Question

Inside Summary: Pressed for money to fix the car, the boys take a recovery job from Hevn that involves the retrieval of a mysterious red box of T.o.E.s—a sudden hot property that transporter and interceptor services alike are fighting furiously over. The contents of the box end up causing a heated shift in Ginji’s emotions and help Ban to both sort out his feelings for his partner and once and for all explain what the HELL happened to the car! And it all goes down at a secluded little love hotel called the Secret Inn.

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Chapter 1: Temple Raider

A sliver of bright crescent moon slid and peeked through cracks in the cloud-heavy night sky, causing flits of fleeting shadows to intermittently dot the dark surroundings of the temple. The figure, which was silently creeping its way through the outer gardens of the temple, kept to the shadows as best it could—using them as cover, melting into them, becoming one of them.

The figure would have rather carried out this mission under the cloak of the new moon’s total darkness, but the timing couldn’t be helped. Word about the box was out and everybody and his brother and his brother’s dog were on the move. It was now or never--and tonight, the sooner the better. The rain that had made life miserable all week was still a threat and judging by the thickening clouds racing overhead, rain was a threat that would soon be upgraded to a promise.

A cool, moisture-wrought breeze stirred the numerous trees that lined the garden. The figure stopped and listened. One by one, the quiet rustling of leaves, the chirping symphony of late summer bugs romancing the night away and the soothing distant ripple of a water pond all floated back to the figure as it tried to filter through the normal to find the abnormal: muffled footsteps, the metallic scrape of peacemakers—guns or swords (neither could be ruled out on a night like this) and hushed whispers. The figure relaxed a bit as none of the above were detected on the restless air. Not yet anyway. They were coming, the figure was sure of that. And if they were already there, it’d be nice to know about it. Surprises were one thing the figure could definitely do without tonight, though, with dreadful certainty, more than anyone’s fair share was bound to happen before it was all said and done. The figure patted a thigh-strapped gun holster for reassurance and moved on.

Continuing off the main path, the figure cautiously wound its way uphill through an assortment of statues--frozen forms and figures that by the light of day lent a serene, religious vibe to the place, but by the shadows of the night offered little solace, more than a little menace and ample cover for any late night ambush happy mugs that were sure to be out in force very soon.

*If they weren’t already,* thought the figure unhappily. Still, it pressed on.

Ignoring the front entry steps, the figure slipped around to the right side of the temple and faced one of the two actual walls of the structure. Designed as an open air place of worship, the large stone and tile building was actually open to the outside on the front and back, both sides of which were approached by a wide expanse of marble steps that led up to the broad ceremonial floor. By day the space was covered with monks administering to worshipers with offering bowls, gongs and incense, but by night it was empty and eerie and devoid of life. The angular, red-tiled, pagoda-style roof of the temple, which slanted sharply and curled upward at the corners, offered no protection or cover for the figure searching for the small hidden door that few among the living knew existed.

Counting the blocks carefully, the figure ran a hand lightly over a selection of wall, feeling the rough-hewn stones for…found it! A slight indentation on the surface was pressed and held and a section of wall slid open with a quiet “snick,” revealing a hidden staircase that wound down. The figure darted inside as the wall slid back into place on its own.

The total musty darkness after even the meager light of the moon outside was stifling and the figure fought claustrophobia and panic. Quickly pulling an industrial grade light stick from the small backpack it carried, the figure lit it and followed the sallow yellow glow down the winding, narrow staircase to the mausoleum below.

The long, circular stair emptied abruptly without ceremony into a medium-sized room. Though the room wasn’t high or overly large and was covered in a thick veil of cobwebs and dust, none of the dirt diminished the opulence that still peeked through the neglect. Sparsely but elegantly decorated, the room was dotted with fluted marble columns that were placed at even intervals. The columns supported a lavish ceiling decorated with an amazing mosaic of hand-crafted tiles and semi-precious stones that had been arranged to mimic a starry night sky. Beautifully painted murals covered the walls between the columns, each depicting a scene from Japanese historical mythology. Each painting displayed gods and winged figures captured in various poses of protection and prayer, forever staring out at the viewer—all designed for the sole purpose of easing the one actual occupant of the room’s transition into the hereafter.

In the middle of the room on a raised marble platform was the teak sarcophagus of the feudal emperor in whose honor the temple above and the room around it had been erected. Filled with the ashes of the emperor’s cremated body, his sword, shield and helmet sat atop the lid, waiting for the moment their master returned and had need of them.

On either end of the coffin stood two large Fu Dog stone lions, guardians of Dharma and those of imperial lineage. Each had its slightly open mouth curled in an eternal grimace, threatening all who dared trespass. The figure held up the light to the male lion on the right. The head was identical to its mate, the female on the left, in every way but one: its fierce snarl held an extra tooth—something easily missed by those who weren’t looking for it. The figure reached a slender hand into the lion’s mouth and pushed it. Nothing happened. The figure pulled the tooth. Still nothing. Becoming frustrated, the figure hit it with the end of the light stick. There was a hard click and the lion’s mouth slowly yawned open wide, eerily animating the silent guardian—making it seem as if it had suddenly come to life. A loud, stony grinding noise echoed through the room as the mouth smoothly slid open on unseen hinges and revealed a large cavity within. There on a pedestal situated at the back of the heavy head, was a small red wooden box.

The figure opened its pack again and took out another small box, similar in size, shape and color, and quickly swapped one for the other, hoping it was heavy enough. The figure wasn’t sure if any protective measures had been built into the room (its intelligence on booby traps wasn’t clear), so better safe than sorry. The figure waited a few seconds on baited breath. When nothing happened, it relaxed.

Opening the stolen box, pale, pinkish-purple light spilled out, brightly illuminating the figure and the dark space around it. The figure held up a small teardrop-shaped cut crystal vial that was corked with a plain but elegant gold stopper shaped like an upside down teardrop. A solid gold teardrop, the figure was sure. But that wasn’t what caught the figure’s eyes. Inside the vial, thick liquid swirled with a life of its own. The figure could see tiny glittering particles, like petite stars, falling and rising within a twirling current of phosphorescence. The effect was hypnotic.

The figure’s fingers that held the bottle suddenly felt as if a mild electrical current had begun to run through them and an instant later, tingly waves of warmth and sleepiness and happiness in just standing there and watching the contents float and whirl set in.

So soothing…so inviting…open the bottle…just…a little…

The figure blinked rapidly, shaking away the tears that’d formed. Breathing heavily with effort, the figure fought the warm wooziness that seemed to be radiating outwardly from the contents of the bottle. The books certainly hadn’t mentioned that particular hazard! Regaining some semblance of clarity, the figure quickly replaced the vial, closed the box and stashed it inside its pack. Pushing the tooth again to close the head, the figure sighed when nothing happened. Taking the light stick and whacking it again, the figure gasped as the tooth broke off with a sharp CRACK! The head clicked shut and the figure stood there with the large, curled, palm-sized tooth in its hand.

*Shit. Breaking and entering, disturbing the dead and now vandalism. My tomb-raiding career is off to a fabulous start!*

The figure slid the tooth into a pocket and after a second’s hesitation, grabbed the shield on top of the coffin lid.

*I’m sure I need it right now more than the owner does,* the figure thought ruefully.

With one last glance around at the room, the figure left, wishing it had more time to explore the murals and the contents of the room.

*I’m not here to sight see,* it reminded itself as it bound back up the stairs.

Finding the corresponding latch on the inside of the door, the figure pushed it and WHOOSH!!!

The sound of sharp metal taking chunks out of the stone door started before it was even completely finished opening.

*You grimy bastards!* the figure thought. *Let me do all the hard work and then show up when it’s all said and done!* The figure ducked and rolled in time to miss shards of broken metal and hunks of rock. Righting itself, the figure dashed around to the back entrance of the temple, hugging the shadow-laced wall as closely as possible; using the stolen shield as cover.

Streaking metallic whistles filled the air.

Thunk, thunk, thunk!

*Shit, shit, shit!*

Each projectile embedded itself into the wall behind the running figure; each just a step behind.

Thunk!

One hit the wall in front of the figure causing the figure to drop down suddenly. The figure’s hand touched something cold and sharp in the grass. Shuriken! Great, the interceptor service was old school, which, on the bright side, meant no guns, but on the dark, ugly side, meant all sorts of nasty tricks like shuriken, swords probably and…

There was a brilliant flash and a puff of smoke immediately to the right of the figure.

…flash bombs! The right hook of an interceptor clad from head to toe in black came rushing out of the smoke cover, narrowly missing the figure as it snapped to its feet and dropped back down to a crouch. The breeze from the invading fist blew across the figure’s face as the figure slashed out with the found shuriken where the knees of the interceptor should have been.

Direct hit! The razor sharp star points made contact with the coarse fabric of the ninja’s uniform, slicing through it as though it were made of thin air and sinking into the flesh beneath it.

The interceptor howled with pain and stumbled a little, which gave the figure more than enough time to leap back to a stand, twirl to the ninja’s side and run a low swipe with the star through the back of the interceptor’s knee—severing his support out from under him. The interceptor went down and the figure immediately turned and frisbeed the star at the next interceptor coming up behind his fallen brother. The star landed with a thud on the upper shoulder of the new ninja, puncturing the tender tendons there; putting his sword arm, which he was about to swing, out of commission.

The figure didn’t wait around for back up. It quickly dashed up the back steps of the temple and found four more interceptors lining the front steps. Turning around, the figure looked back to see another four approaching from the back set.

*Just how many of these fuckers are there? Whoever’s after the vial is very well financed to hire a crew like this!*

Fortunately, the figure had a few tricks of its own, having anticipated just such a turn out. It crept further toward the right temple wall, around a ceremonial table and to the side of a large brass gong suspended by ropes on a tall wooden rack.

Reaching for one of the reddish terra cotta offering bowls sitting on the table, the figure took a small ball the size of a jawbreaker from its pack and placed it inside. It did the same thing with another bowl.

Holding both of them, the figure suddenly spun out of its hiding place meeting both sets of ninja as they broached the top stair on either side, surrounding the figure. The figure whirled in a circle, hurled a bowl at each side then did a mad dash out of the line of fire. The lead ninja in the front line sliced through their bowl with a wicked looking katana while the lead back line ninja pierced theirs with a nasty looking bamboo dart at the same time.

Suckers! Upon each hit, the bowls exploded and terra cotta shrapnel pierced the balls within, releasing two sets of poisoned gas mixed with flash powder in mid air--right at face level! The inside of the temple lit up like the Fourth of July and hissed violently as the thick, sweet smelling fumes were dispersed by the explosions. The ninja went down disoriented and coughing.

The figure smiled. The balls alone wouldn’t have had the effective range needed to take down four at a time if they’d had simply exploded on the steps and the bowls, had they been ignored, would have simply sailed past each line and exploded on the ground harmlessly.

*Good thing I’m not dealing with a think tank!*

Not waiting around for regrouping or backups, the figure dashed back to the brass gong and with a quick snip of its holding ropes via the table’s offering knife, the figure slid the blade into its waistband, grabbed the stolen shield and rolled the gong down the front steps and over any ninja bodies that were unlucky enough to be in the way. The thin gong, while not heavy, was sharply edged enough so that whoever got run over would certainly look like they’d gotten run over with a sharp-edged brass temple gong in the morning!

The crouching figure ran to the right of the gong, using it for cover. The gong rang and vibrated loudly with shuriken and other deadly strikes from the left and the stolen emperor’s shield did its duty for protection from the right.

Heading straight down the middle of the main path, the figure felt the ground slope sharply toward the decorative water pond it had heard earlier. Ditching the stolen shield, the figure sped up and at the last possible minute, kicked the gong onto a flat side and jumped aboard at the back edge of it, riding it like a surfboard. Gaining speed, gong and rider met the water’s edge and effectively skipped their way across the small pond!

Snatching a modified flare gun from the holster on its thigh, the figure fired off two quick shots, one to the left and one to the right of the pond. The shots, which in actuality were small, charged, quick-time release cartridges of perfume mixed with flash powder, exploded a few seconds later with a bang and huge puffs of thick mist. Coughing, gasping and long painful scrapes of breath echoed through the air as Himiko reached the edge of the pond. Without breaking stride, she leapt off the gong leaving it to sink at the water’s edge and ran like hell for the main road.

The high screeching sound of primates screaming, howling and literally going apeshit quickly faded into the background behind her…

Sprinting for all she was worth, Himiko followed the road a short distance to the edge of the temple property and jumped into the black Lotus Elise she’d driven there. Cranking the key, she punched the starter button, threw the car into gear and jammed the gas; spitting a fan of gravel out behind her. In the rear view she instantly saw two sets of distant headlights come to life as white, non-descript delivery trucks rushed to flank her.

Kenna’s electronica ode to desperate flight, “Freetime,” blared out of the stereo speakers. *Might as well crank it,* she thought. They already know I’m here. She pushed both the volume on the Blaupunkt and the speed, enjoying the adrenaline rush in spite of the obvious dangers surrounding her. Himiko and her Lotus Elise flew down the narrow mountain road.

…I need the free time
I need to get away…

She smiled darkly. *Well, at least the music goes well with tonight’s escapade,* she thought. *Music to die by…*

…I need the free time
to get away from you…

She stomped harder on the gas. The car happily complied with a muscular, horse-powered purr.

The temple, which was located in mountain country, sat atop a broad outcropping on the side of one of the smaller mountains in a chain that overlooked a valley below. On a day when one wasn’t running for one’s life, the view was quiet and lovely and the drive through the winding, curvy mountain roads was peaceful. Tonight however, on a night when one most definitely WAS running for one’s life, the steep mountainside separated from speeding, reckless drivers by only a few inches of rusty guardrail was anything but serene.

…I need some me time
I need the me time…

Himiko checked the mirror again and saw the two trucks bearing down on her. Slowing down a bit, she straddled the car across the middle line divider and prayed to the gods that no late night drivers would suddenly appear around the bend up ahead. Letting the truck to her right catch up with her and the one on the left go flying past, she dumped the contents of her pack on the seat beside her and with a certain glance, selected one of the two remaining decoy boxes she’d brought with her.

Rolling down her driver’s window, she braked to even herself with the truck on her right. The transporter team paced her and the passenger rolled down his window. With a deft flick, she spun the box through the air. The passenger caught it securely and immediately the truck slammed the brakes and began making a tight U-turn with frivolous speed.

…I need to run away, run away…
far away tonight…

Himiko let them go and threw the car into 5th to outpace and zoom past the truck on her left. Praying again that there was no car waiting for her around the steep bend, she used the extra scoop in the road to brake hard, yank the parking brake and spin the car into a screeching, road burning about-face. Releasing both brakes, she raced back toward the second transporter truck. She let up off the gas, rolled down the passenger window and veered to the right of the oncoming truck. As she passed, she grabbed the last decoy, timed and tossed it through the air. The driver caught it and raced on ahead.

“NO BRAKES!” she yelled as they passed and from behind the wheel, Mr. Maguruma smiled and saluted. The Man With No Brakes hit the gas and peeled out and around the narrow bend, completely forgetting that he had more than one pedal at his disposal.

…I need the free time
I need to get away…

Kicking the car back into 5th, Himiko surged ahead to catch up with the first truck. Reaching over, she unlatched the last remaining box--the stolen treasure, and carefully lifted the glowing vial from its cradle. Setting the vial gently on the seat, she took the box and after a quick, longing glance at its elegant beauty and handcrafted details of gold filigree corners and ornate gold latch, she rolled the car sharply to the right and sped along next to the guardrail. Himiko tossed it out through her window and over the side of the mountain without a second glance.

…I jump in my car
and ride, ride to oblivion…

Righting herself back onto the road, Himiko gasped as she narrowly missed a car that came tearing around a curve. Fishtailing and screeching across the traffic line, she quickly regained control of the car, and breathed a sigh of relief. She hurled a curse at the recklessness of the car that had almost killed her and sped up to catch the first transporter service; hoping to blow past them on the straightaway and leave them behind until she was able to turn off and head in a third direction away from the both decoys.

Rounding a wicked bend, Himiko’s eyes went wide. She suddenly screamed and jumped the brake pedal with both feet. The car came to a bucking, skidding, lurching stop, scraping the guardrail to the right along the driver’s side, before glancing off and coming to a halt a few feet away.

The first delivery team had already been intercepted!

The halted truck, sprawled across both road lanes, was on fire and flames danced and licked at the passenger cabin. Two bodies lay on the ground face down, not moving. A third man was fighting--frantically trying to hold onto something. The dark shape in front of the third transporter danced with him nimbly, easily dodging whatever the desperate man tried to throw at him.

…Run, run, run, run to your place til you’re gone,
where do you go to be free?…

Himiko hesitated. If she left, she would alert the new arrivals to the fact that they possibly had the wrong truck. If she stayed to help, she’d put the real vial, which was sitting on the passenger seat beside her, in jeopardy. After a second’s debate, Himiko tucked the vial back into the pack and stowed it in the small space between her seat and the back of the car. She snatched a perfume vial from beneath her vest, grabbed her last remaining flash ball from the pile on the passenger’s seat and leapt out of the car.

The third transporter was lurching toward her, dragging a useless leg behind him--the box in his outstretched, bloodied hands. She ran to catch it before he fell, only to have him suddenly go rigid. His wide eyes fixed and stared into infinity as he fell face forward. The box clattered away from him on the road.

As Himiko made a dash to pick it up, the scalpel protruding from the man’s back extracted itself, seemingly on its own and whirled end over end through the air towards her. She snatched the box and rolled out of the way, feeling the knife whistle past her.

“My dear Lady Poison!” a soft, cheerful voice greeted her. “How nice to see you again.”

Himiko closed her eyes and sighed. She crouched on the ground with the box in her hands wishing fervently that the slow, even steps crunching towards her on the road gravel wasn’t who she already knew it was. She made a quick mental note. If she got out of this alive, she’d have to thank her intelligence source. For once, it’d been right on target…unfortunately…

“Wish I could say the same, Akabane,” she replied, still on the ground with her back facing him. She started a slow count down under her breath.

Dr. Jackal laughed. “Really, my Dear, that’s no way to greet an old friend.”

The transporter truck burned and crackled behind her. She could see the dull orange glow from the fire light up the road in front of her, casting a long, lean, menacing shadow that was slowly approaching her from behind.

Five…

The footsteps drew nearer.

Four…

“Won’t you be a good girl and hand over the box? Holding onto it won’t do you any good. Even as we speak the interceptor team is riding down our good friend Mr. Maguruma to retrieve the second box. My client is very anxious and would rather not leave anything to chance.” He continued forward. “I don’t suppose you’d be a dear and tell me if there are any more decoys floating around for me to track down and transport, hmmm?”

Himiko’s eyes went wide. An image of the car she’d passed just moments earlier flashed before her.

Three…

“I didn’t think so.” The man in black glided forward and sighed. “You’ve learned a few tricks since last we saw each other. Stealing the box AND defeating an entire elite interceptor service single handedly. Then TWO transporter services when we were only anticipating one. I must say, I’m impressed.” Akabane looked over at what was left of the sports car. “And I see life’s certainly been treating you well.”

Two… “It’s a rental.” She palmed the vial and loosened the stopper.

He halted a few feet behind her. “Don’t make me kill you, Himiko.” His genteel voice edged with the threat his words promised.

“I don’t plan on it.”

One!

She flicked off the top, downed half the bottle’s contents and spun on her heels spewing flames at Dr. Jackal’s lower half. In the same movement, she jumped backward, threw the rest of the bottle at his head and then leaped again to put more space between them.

Akabane danced to the side, easily dodging the perfume vial and whirled around, flaring his long, Jesuit priest frock, fanning the flames that licked along the bottom edge. The glass bottle shattered on the ground behind him erupting into a small mushroom of flame. Akabane’s lips curled into a lazy smile as he shrugged out of his coat.

“You HAVE been busy, haven’t you, my Dear?”

Without replying, Himiko threw her last flash ball at his feet and whipping out another vial, added insult to injury with a dose of regression perfume. They both hit right on target. Not waiting for results, she turned to sprint back to the car.

“Leaving so soon?” Akabane’s voice floated out from the misty fog, which was rapidly billowing away from his body.

“Not very sporting of you to think that’s all it would take to get rid of me. And after all we’ve been through together.” He actually seemed sad.

Himiko spun back around. Akabane still stood in the same exact spot.

“How?!” Himiko’s eyes widened as the answer became clear. The mist that had enveloped its target as planned, quickly dispersed--blown away by the dozens of whirring scalpels that had surrounded Dr. Jackal. Thin blades hovered in the air all around him in a protective shield, rotating in place at high RPMs, in effect acting like dozens of serrated fans. They cleared up the last of the smoke easily in seconds.

Suddenly, like hive minded beasts, the knives turned at once, all of them pointing in Himiko’s direction…blade first.

“So sorry it has to be like this, my Dear,” Akabane said smiling, his eyes hidden beneath the broad brim of his hat. “But I will say this. It has been…enjoyable…to say the least.”

The blades hurtled toward her with ferocious speed. Instinctively, she held up the box to shield her face and it recoiled with the force of several knives hitting it fiercely. There were too many of them and they were all raining down on her at once. She stumbled backwards blindly as scalpels hit her hands and embedded themselves in her arms.

Himiko screamed and dropped the box. She felt blade after blade plunge into her. Into her shoulders, into her chest, into her sides, into her belly. They hurled themselves into her legs and again into her arms, which she held up in an effort to protect her head. She backed up against the guardrail in front of the car and leaned heavily against it, breathing hard and bleeding freely.

Dr. Jackal advanced on her. “Now, I wonder what I would find if I looked through your racy little vehicle? Not many places to hide something in a tiny two-seater like that. What would I find, Himiko? Another box, perhaps? What would be in that box, I wonder?” He pondered aloud and watched Himiko straighten a little, tensing to move as much as her severely wounded body would allow. That small change in posture was all Akabane needed to see.

“I really AM impressed with you Himiko! THREE decoys!” He paused. “Or would this be the genuine article you’re about to move your dying body to protect?” he smiled. “Clever, clever girl. Send off two decoys in opposite directions with transporter services and keep the real thing to yourself.”

The tip of a blade slowly ejected itself from the palm of his outstretched hand.

“If I weren’t pressed for time, I would play with you awhile longer. I am so enjoying myself.”

Himiko saw the blade aiming for her and slumped. She couldn’t feel her body any more. She felt as if she was floating and she was growing cold. Her vision darkened all around her, while a slow fog invaded her pain-numbed mind.

She smiled through her bloody tears. “Glad…(pant, pant) I could…(cough—spit blood) be…of service…” her sentence ended with a whisper.

“Good bye, my Dear. Please don’t think badly of me—it’s just business after all.” Akabane let fly with the weapon. The instant the blade left his hand, Dr. Jackal noticed something interesting about Himiko’s body—something he hadn’t noticed before in the dark and it piqued his curiosity. As the knife whistled shrilly through the air, he urged it to fly even faster and at the last second, Akabane hurled all his strength into it, causing it to slam squarely into the middle of her chest with rocket-like force. The knife hit Himiko so hard, it cracked her sternum, shattering the quiet of the night with the loud snapping of bone and her sharp inhalation of pain.

The force of the knife striking her was so great, it picked her slight body up off the ground and hurled it over the edge of the rail.

Akabane watched her fly over the cliff’s edge for a second while he walked around to the driver’s side of the car. Confident she was gone, he turned around and contemplated the interior of the car.

As Himiko flew backwards, she smiled at his arrogance. Sucker! And though it hurt like TWO hells, with the last of her strength, she snatched her modified flare gun from its thigh holster.

In slow motion, she:

…clicked the laser sight on…

…spun the chamber…

…and aimed directly for Akabane’s back, which was to her and bent over the car as he looked inside.

Himiko pulled the trigger as she fell.

Her vision faded to black.

Then she was gone.

Dr. Jackal never saw the bright red dot target the middle of his back as he straightened with the small backpack in his hand.

Over the loud music still playing in the car, he never heard the hollow “pthunk” of a poison vial being expelled at high speed from the muzzle of a falling modified flare gun.

The only thing he heard was Kenna’s “Freetime” loudly being played on repeat and a muted hiss as his vision suddenly dissolved into a world of pale green fog. The effect was immediate.

He turned to the empty guardrail even as he crumpled to the ground--the pack falling right beside him.

“Impressive…”

Above him, the music continued to play, breaking the stillness of the bloody carnage and the flaming wreckage that lay around him.

…Run, run, run, run to your place til you’re gone,
where do you go to be free?…

*** ***

High above the scene, on another outcropped ledge, three men spaced at intervals along the ridge watched the events below unfold through digital binoculars. To the right, the leader saw the lights of yet another interceptor service moving in fast. Using hand signals, the three communicated with each other, maintaining radio silence.

They watched and they waited.

…But it’s alright, tonight, tonight, tonight,
it’s all right!…

End Chapter 1: Temple Raider

Author’s Note: The Lotus Elise Himiko drives is the European version with the steering wheel on the right. Both of Himiko’s transporter service trucks also had the driver’s wheel to the right.

The song used in this chapter was “Freetime” by Kenna. I don’t own it in any way, shape or form. It can be found on his “New Sacred Cow” album and his great video can be found on YouTube. Cool song—kinda updated 80’s cross between The Cure and U2.