at the page he’d given her. And continued to do so for a long time. It
seemed like nearly ten minutes passed before she shook her head from side to side.
Once again D’s hand scrawled a few words.
Do you know what your father’s experiments involved?
Again, she shook her head.
D readied his pen once more.
Lori shook her head. Over and over she shook it. Her shoulders began to quake, too.
Bits of healing plaster fell from her like snow-flakes. Dr. Tsurugi held her shoulders
steady. Still, Lori tried to go on shaking her head.
“Kindly leave. Hurry!” the physician said to D. The door swung open and the nurse
rushed in.
Getting to his feet, D asked, “Where’s Pluto VIII staying?”
“As I recall, he’s in P9 in the special residential district. It’s right by the law
enforcement bureau,” the physician called out, but his words merely echoed off the
closed door and died away.
-
Exiting the hospital, D walked down the street. Despite the sudden madness they’d
witnessed in Lori, his eyes were as cold and clear as ever. Any human emotion would’ve
seemed like a blemish when it showed in the young man’s eyes.
Though plenty of people were coming and going on the street, the path directly ahead
of D was completely unobstructed. Every last person in his way stepped aside. They
didn’t do this out of the superstitious, ingrained distaste they had for those who
dwelled outside their society, but because of the young man’s good looks and the aura
about him. Everyone knew. They also knew that not everyone out on the street was necessarily
human.
And yet, there was a hint of intoxication in the eyes of all as they gazed at D. His
gorgeous features made them shudder with something other than fear, and not only the
women but even the men felt a sort of sexual excitement when they saw him. Most of
the people wore work clothes and carried farm implements. Working the earth wasn’t
quite the same in a sector of a moving town, but people went about the business of
living as best they could. They labored. On the far side of the park lay farms and
fields, as well as a sprawling industrial sector.
D soon found the law enforcement bureau. Despite the grandiose name, it was no different
from the sheriff’s office you’d find in any town this size. The group of blue buildings
across the street made up the special residential district. A pair of three-story
buildings that looked like hotels—that was all there was to the district. As D came
to the door, a cheerful voice shouted to him from across the street. On turning, the
Hunter found Pluto VIII trotting his way. Both his hands were covered by a riot of
colors—flowers.
“Hey, what are you doing, stud?” The biker wore a personable smile that made his hostility
back at the mayor’s house seem long forgotten. Once he’d reached D, he looked all
around them. “They’re mighty unfriendly in this town,” he groused. “I heard there
ain’t a single florist anywhere. Someone said there was a flower garden, so I went
to have a look-see, and they tell me out there they don’t sell to outsiders. Well,
that ain’t so rare in itself, but I tell ’em, ‘Dammit, I wanna take them to a sick
friend,’ and still they wouldn’t give me the okay.” He was truly indignant about this.
Foam flying from his mouth, he added, “Hell, I told ’em the flowers were for Lori.
I say, ‘She used to live here just like the rest of you, right? I don’t care if her
family decided to leave; it ain’t like she came back here because she wanted to. She
lost her mother and father, and got hurt real bad herself, and only came back to try
and save her life.’ Son of a bitch—they still told me I couldn’t have ’em. Said that
once you leave town, you’re an outsider.”
To his snarling companion, D said softly, “So, how did you get those flowers then?”
“Well, er—you know. Anyway, I was pretty