Read Online Gene Mapper by Taiyo Fujii - Free Book Online

the intruder. Running across someone so capable so early in the investigation felt like a good omen.
    Then there was the chance to actually travel—what did they used to say, “take a business trip”? To physically go to a foreign country to complete a task, in an era when there was hardly anything that couldn’t be handled over TrueNet. I was looking forward to it.
    Kurokawa got back to me in record time.
    OKAY TO USE YAGODO AND TRAVEL TO VIETNAM. TAKASHI
    There was an attachment. It was an air ticket to Ho Chi Minh City. The challenge ahead was going to be tough, but maybe Kurokawa was as eager as I was to get out for a change.
    I checked the departure date. My eyes widened.
    The flight left the next morning.





4    Miss Nguyen
    I noticed the runway as I descended from the Boeing at Tan Son Nhat International. The apron was marked with green and white lines that looked like fresh paint. To my still-sleepy eyes—I was out from the takeoff roll until just before landing—they looked almost too fresh.
    These pristine markings on the flight apron were another achievement of genetic engineering: sustainable cement excreted by designed coral. They were unmarked even after being scuffed all day by shoes and vehicle tires. Mother Mekong used the same technology to get their Active Ground Cover certification. The terrestrial coral digested air pollutants and waste stuck to the concrete, keeping the apron and its markings spotless.
    I looked more closely at the unnaturally vivid markings and remembered the propaganda images I’d seen of small animals being “eaten” by “carnivorous” pavement. Nature addicts hated this kind of engineering.
    The sharply defined lettering and details expressed by the coral looked classier than the huge logos I mapped onto grass species. I’d heard that the coral could do a complete redraw overnight. The color-expression technology was probably not all that different from the techniques I used for logos, but it was a different specialty, and I couldn’t quite picture how the mapping was done. Watching the coral as it redrew might give me ideas, but I didn’t have many chances to visit an airport in the middle of the night.
    I had arrived at Narita International at five a.m. to pick up everything I thought I might need for a trip to Vietnam. I couldn’t believe that the “business trip” I lucked into would mean a six a.m. check-in. All I’d had time to do the night before was format the data for analysis and pack the gear I needed to run Gene Analytics. I understood why Kurokawa was in a hurry, but sparing a day for prep—a day, at least—would’ve been great. I was worried I’d get to Vietnam and discover I’d left something critical behind.
    I was mentally checklisting my suitcase as I turned into the corridor that led to passport control. A man in a neatly tailored suit was ahead of me, pushing a huge four-wheeled suitcase. There was no mistaking the clothes and the neatly parted hair.
    “Takashi!”
    Kurokawa swung the bag around skillfully so he could look at me and keep it moving. I felt suddenly dizzy. There seemed to be something wrong with my sense of perspective.
    The round, smooth face, the doll-like hair, and the dark irises peering steadily from behind black-framed glasses were a mirror image of the Kurokawa I knew from years of augmented reality meetings. The deft way he handled his luggage was familiar too. But his body was completely different.
    “Nice to see you in the flesh, Mamoru.”
    The voice and steady gaze were coming from somewhere below the level of my breastbone. The man was tiny: four foot six, seven at the most. His body had the proportions of a full-grown adult, with perfectly formed feet and hands. He reminded me of those artifacts you see on low-quality stages where the scaling is screwed up.
    “I’ll be joining you on this trip to Ho Chi Minh City. Thanks for having me along.”
    Kurokawa placed his arms at his sides and executed a