//File 1.1 - Better Than Life//

The limousine came for Clint at 9am sharp. Siouxie was already at the lobby, dressed in the traditional manner of her First Nations people. Baron was noticeably absent. They had been housed in a luxurious hotel in the heart of the Roppongi district; Clint's room was twice the size of his entire apartment back home. The trideo display itself was larger than his bed, and his armored leather jacket and hat never looked so new after its dry cleaning.

The Hisato-Turner Broadcasting complex was even more impressive. Its central corporate office building alone was a hundred story revolving skyscraper with satellite towers like needles piercing the static sky, and peripheral buildings surrounded it like constellations. The virtual studio premises occupied one of those constellations, massive enough to recreate entire streets and even mini-towns within its studios.

Clint was brought to a simsense reality centre, enthusiastically greeted by a host of Takeshi's assistants. Both Siouxie and he were briefed as to what was required of them. Essentially they would be filmed in a virtual deck, a holo-projection room, with trodes attached to them to record their thoughts and emotions as they 'acted' for the virtual sim cameras. Clint's scenario was a wild wild western, where he was a cyber sheriff defending his town from robo bandits. The director and producers saw and felt what he saw via their image links, and the net result recreated as a simsense experience. A viewer or user would be able to put themself into Clint's shoes and go through not just the story but Clint's own sensations as he personally felt them.

It was hard work, as Clint would find out. Acting as a street samurai was quite different from actually being one. Lunch time came round, and they had barely gotten through their first scene.

If he has a chance, Clint will communicate with Takeshi to see if he has someone that can make sure he gets all the same licenses he had for his equipment with his new SIN. Otherwise, he will be giving all his attention to the current work, doing his best to do what his required of him.

It wasn't all non-stop work throughout the way. Ever so often, there was stops and starts. If it were a real trideo, there'd be multiple takes, shooting from different scenes and angles, pausing to touch up makeup, the director or producer briefing the crew on how to set up the next scene. It was somewhat similar. Ever so often Clint was required to redo a scene, using different weapons, or even thinking different thoughts. In one he'd be asked to stay focused and grim, in another he have to move and act more coolly and flamboyantly. Also not every take was focused on him. They had to film Siouxie as well. Notable in his absence though, was Baron, who did not come at all ...

In his breaks Clint was given free rein of the facilities. An attendant took care of his needs. A comfortable lounge, a full in-studio restaurant-cum-canteen catered to whatever he wanted. The attendant promised to register his weapons, saving his particulars into his own database, and scurrying off to process the registrations. At one point he met Sakita, who was with a posse of ultra glamourous music trideo dancers, on their way to film their next release. She had introduced Clint to them, and they tittered and curtesied to meet, in their words, a real cowboy!

Takeshi called a wrap on the day's work for Clint around 3pm, to resume the next day.

Remembering Negumi's message, Clint uses Mr. Ozaka's comm to send a text message...
[in japanese] Negumi jō wa, anata ga watashi to sarani hanashi o shitai to itta. Anata no eranda basho de anata ni sanka suru koto wa watashi no yorokobidesu. Yoroshikereba, watashi ni aitai zahyō to jikan o okutte kudasai. Watashi wa jikandōrini soko ni iru koto o kakunin shimasu. Clint Westwood

It was the ever reliable Negumi, Ozaka's aide, who replied to Clint's message. Come to his office. I will get an assistant to show you the way. Within minutes, a pleasant man in a grey suit appeared where Clint's studio was, to show him the way. Ozaka's office was in south satellite tower of the main complex. The complex was so huge that it took them fully half an hour just to get from the studios to the offices. The 35th to 40th floors were dedicated to Acquisitions, and the skylift sped them up to the 40th. The lift doors opened directly into a massive office, with wall to wall far windows overlooking the Roppongi district skyline. The interior was furnished in the style of what could only be accurately described as futuro zen. Clean lines of white and bamboo intersecting with edgeless metal furniture polished to a sheen, relfecting and yet diffusing the strong light coming in from the outside into an even, all-round diffused glow that seemed to permeate every object in the room.

Negumi met Clint at the entryway. "Mr Westwood." He greeted simply, and showed him in. In the far centre of the room, a long table made from a impossibly broad curved piece of bamboo, was Ozaka's desk, where he sat.

Clint enters and follows Ms. negumi to Mr. Ozaka's desk. He then bows deeply, It is my pleasure to meet you Mr. Ozaka. He then waits in silence for Mr. Ozaka to speaks, only sitting if he is asked to....

"A gaijin with an understanding of our ways. You continue to impress me Mr Jericho, or should I call you Mr Westwood from now onwards. In this country we place great emphasis on one's true name and one's given name." He waved Clint towards a plush leather chair. Almost out of nowhere, a bottle of aged single malt appeared, and two glasses were filled by Ozaka himself. "You have done me a service Mr Westwood, in your heroic effort to prevent our transport from being overtaken. While the loss of some valuable corp assets was an unfortunate result, you have saved face on my behalf by regaining control of the plane. And you have respectfully refrained from inquiring what might be so valuable to have caused this commotion. For this, I thank you, and would like to present you a small gift as a token of my gratitude."

Negumi appeared with a long black lacquered box, placed it in front of Clint, and opened it.

"As you will find it inappropriate to carry most of your firearm gear in public neo-Tokyo, these will provide you some measure of use." Inside the box were a katana and a wakizashi, a long and short sword, de rigueur for any Japanese samurai even today. They were sheathed in scabbards of black and gold, and bore a circular crest containing three curved blades connected at the centre.

"I do not blame you if you are curious about this matter. If you would like to know more, I shall answer your questions. It is the least I can do for someone who was prepared to put his life on the line."

First of all, thank you very much for the gift, I will accept it and take great care of it. Clint bows respectfully, As for the reasons all this happened, we all have our demons to deal with. I take pride in my work and only did what had to be done. If you insist, I will be satisfied with what you feel comfortable to tell me, and if there is anything else I can do for you, I will be happy to negotiate a new contract with you.

Ozaka laughed at the mention of the contract. "That's merely business, the mundane work of media and entertainment. That will make you a star in Japan. I'm talking about something else altogether." Ozaka leaned in towards Clint. "I mentioned in the plane that a person in my position makes enemies. Furthermore, there are rival corps wishing ill of Hisato-Turner. This is no secret. You yourself have witnessed a direct attempt at sabotage. This will not do. I want my property recovered, and I want to know who's behind it. It is not something I wish to leave only to the authorities."

"The rest of what I wish is inappropriate for me to mention. This is a media office after all, and all walls have ears. If you wish to help, bring these new gifts with you when you visit the Shinoya establishment in Ginza tonight. All will be clearer then."

I have already advised mr. Takeshi that I did not aim to be a star. I normally prefer working without any spotlights on me. I feel we both understand each other very well so it will be my pleasure to visit the Shinoya establishment tonight. I assume mr. Negumi will provide the transport, if not I will make sure to be there on time anyway. Clint gets up, takes the box respectfully and turns back to mr. Ozaka and bows again, [japanese] Kono kichōna okurimono o arigatō, watashi wa sore o kōei ni omoimasu. Shōrai-teki ni anata to issho ni hataraku koto o tanoshiminishiteimasu. Anata ga watashi o kyoka surunara, watashi wa ima watashi no kyūkawotoru... Clint ends his bow and waits in silence for mr. Ozaka to permit him to leave...

"I will send you the directions." The stolid but efficient Negumi immediately pinned the geolocation tag into Clint's commlink. "It might be best if you arrange for your own travel this time." It was unspoken, but the implication was that there ought to be no associations between Ozaka and whatever business was going to go down next in the shadows.

With that, the meeting had come to a close. Clint was free of responsibilities until his meeting at night.

After getting back to his room, Clint takes the time to change into his regular cowboy clothes and duster (Lined coat). After that he sits down to examine his new gift carefully, checking the quality of the blades.When he's ready, he takes his stun baton, his knives and his new swords and takes a walk. Fifteen minutes later, he calls himself a taxi and makes them drop him off at the Shinoya establishment.

The bar and club stretch of the Ginza district was fairly buzzing at this time of night. Revelers and party goers thronged the streets in all manner of accoutrement and activity. Street-side interaction was colourful and vibrant, teenage boppers, cokeheads, weary salarymen all rubbed shoulders to find their establishment of choice to get drunk, get high, and maybe get lucky.

The street with the Shinoya address was a more sedate affair. These seemed to be both more classy and more private establishments. Fewer people stood along the streets. Entrances were more discreetly inset. There were more walls than windows. The neon and LED displays were more muted. Shinoya was no exception. A wide building framing a heavy double-door entrance, no lights nor embellishments indicated the nature of the place within. A solitary man stood at the doors, evidently a bouncer of some sort.

"Yes?' The heavy-set man in the stiff black suit spoke as Clint approached him.

Name's Westwood. I'm expected.

The man eyed the cowboy before him. "No one expected tonight. You have the wrong place." It was definitely the correct address that Negumi gave him. It made no sense that he was being turned away.

Smilling, "Of course nobody is expected tonight, but still, if you value your job, I'll give you time to verify with the higher ups before I make a phone call...

The bouncer was used to all manner of threats, and remained unmoved...... he did however, eye Clint more closely, and scrutinise the cowboy from head to toe. Clint could almost hear the cyberware whirring in the man's head as he did so. The bouncer spotted something, his face hardened, as if in annoyance, but his next reply was surprisingly polite.

"Please come with me. " His tap on the door swung it open, and as he led Clint in he was immediately replaced by another bouncer who looked almost identical to him, who took his place outside the door.

Inside, the establishment looked very much like a richly appointed speakeasy. Deep mahogany walls and furniture, recessed lighting, private alcoves with tables, a long bar down one side of the main hall. There were patrons, but it wasn't crowded at all. Serious looking men and women in suits. No one turned to look at Clint, even though his appearance could've been considered outlandish in this place.

The bouncer led him to the last alcove at the end of the room where a white haired elven woman was seated, flanked by a man and a troll. He turned to Clint, hand outstretched, and indicated at the samurai swords Clint was carrying.

Clint hands his swords to the bouncer. He then turns to the group and removes his hat with a small bow facing the elven lady, [in sperethiel] Honored to meet you mylady, before taking a seat. He then waits and studies the others, waiting to see if any of them were going to start a conversation...