A Merry Life

“Details, Takai.” I grin. “Even if you don’t have them, I have other sources.” I have my extraction garb on: all black, including gloves and a hair covering, and I’ve smudged my face with black to prevent lights from reflecting off my pale skin. Even my machete blade, which has yet to return to its place in my trusty sling bag, is black. I like being able to get in, get done, and get out having never been seen. I check my watch. “Guard will be by in five, then we can push on.”

I begin to clear-cut a section of hedge on this side of the fence. Once at the fence, I reach through and cut about halfway through to the other side, my hands and arms feeling sharp pricks even through my sleeves and gloves. “Fucking thorns!” That is my mantra for this part of the mission. I look up at the two-and-a-half-meter fence, and Takai leans down to give me a boost up. Adorable. I smile at him, squat, jump, and pull myself up and over the top with the spikes just grazing my belly, landing on my feet in the small, cleared space on the opposite side. “You’re next,” I whisper, grinning wickedly through the fence. I wonder if this counts as flirting?

He surveys the fence and clambers over, not nearly as elegantly as I had, and his landing contains a stumble.

I smile. “Points off for style, but you made it. Now, quick review: What’s the most important rule?”

He sighs since I have made him repeat this rule at least a dozen times since he boarded. “Don’t get you killed.”

“Good man.”

I cut a very low and small passage through the rest of the hedge, hoping the hole won’t be very visible from the grounds, and then skirt the hedge and run to an out-building’s shadow as I make my way to the brightly lit country house with dozens of windows and a fair amount of balconies. Takai follows and I’m impressed he can keep up.

We stand, staring up at the enormous house. “He could be anywhere in there,” Takai ventures, sounding discouraged.

“Or they could be right there.” I point at a window on the third floor where a young, clearly Edoan man holds a young woman with long, dark hair in his arms protectively as they seem to be speaking quietly with each other. “Either he’s a bit of a rake or that’s the daughter. Are Edoans known for their rakishness? Why are they together if he is awaiting execution?” My first question was meant as a dig; my second one was rhetorical. I know Takai has no idea why they are still together either.

I leave Takai to consider the questions as I spy a trellis of vines on the side of the house that will take me almost to the second floor. When I am about six meters above the ground, I reach into my vest and pull out a handful of small rocks.

I look down to see Takai looking up at me with confusion. He may get to sail to exotic places, but I don’t think he knows how to have fun. This is fun. I take aim at the window where we had seen the couple and start lobbing pebbles at it.

“Seriously?” Takai loudly whispers. I look down at him, grin, shrug, and toss another. Sometimes the simplest ways work best.

My faith in simplicity is rewarded as the window lock rattles, and the young black-haired man peers out at me. “Howdy!” I loud-whisper in standard Fed’s language. “I brought a countryman for you to hobnob with,” and I gesture to Takai. Takai and the young man, who apparently is named Taro Konya, converse in Edonese for a brief moment. I hear my name and the word “Bosch” and see Takai gesture to me. I figure this is my cue to wave. The two Edoans speak a bit longer, and then I see Takai close his eyes.

We need to get a move-on if we are getting out of here clean, so I tell Taro, “I’m tossing a rope to you. You can tie it off and shimmy down to me.”

Takai breaks in with a sigh. “He won’t leave without . . .” Here he pauses, and I look down at him. “. . . without Juelle, who he says is his lawful bride and wishes to return with him to Edo.”

Are you fucking kidding me? is the only thought I have. But as I can’t say it without shouting, I elect for silence. I believe the message is conveyed. I take two deep breaths and hiss from my vantage point on the trellis. “Well, now, this is a detail, isn’t it?” I am disgusted. “Okay, so now we have to get fucking Romeo and Juliet out of fucking Verona.”

Takai shrugs. “Nice reference. I like Shakespeare as well.”

I stare down at him. “Great. We’ll have lots of time to discuss the plays when we are awaiting our executions after getting caught here.” My volume is starting to climb, so I focus back on my task but not before mouthing to Takai “One rule” while holding my index finger up. He nods and puts an index finger up in response. “Tie the rope off,” I tell Taro, “and I’ll come up and help all y’all down.”

He does as I instruct, and I climb hand over hand to the third-story window, then I hop to the floor in a squat and begin straightening up. When halfway to standing, my eyes are level with an extremely large, extremely pregnant belly. I look up into the gentle face of a young woman with straight, dark hair who smiles at me. “I’m just guessing you are Juelle.” I look back down at her burgeoning belly. “Details. Fucking details.” I stand up fully, sigh, and rub my eyelids.

I turn to the Edoan man. “Well, we have had quite a busy and productive ‘diplomatic’ mission, haven’t we?” Taro shrugs and turns his hands over in a what-are-you-going-to-do move. Somehow, he manages to look both abashed and proud. The course of true love never did run smooth. Nope, wrong play.

Bet the Capulets are pissed about this.