by Samantha Lau
“Who’re ya?” The lowly piece of trash dared demand.
Worse yet, what bothered him most was that he had no leverage on this man. Unlike in Taizhou, those below did not really keep a good record of their population. All he knew of this man, thanks to Wei, was his name. He could assume this was the man Lee had tasked with protecting their son, and that the fact they had both made it back alive meant he had skills that could not be ignored.
“I’m the one making the questions here.” Gui stated.
That rénzhā snorted. Such insolence.
“The men who were after Wei-”
“Where’s Wei?” the other asked at once.
“You’re not getting it, are you?” Gui glared. “The men who were after Wei, do you know where they hide?”
“I ain’t sayin’ shit ‘till I kno’ Wei’s safe.” The rénzhā had the gall to insist.
Gui clicked his tongue. He eyed the camera briefly, noticing well that the other followed his gaze. Well, it didn’t matter if he knew where the camera was.
“I’m Zhao Gui.” He said. His wife would have quoted an ancient saying to him: You caught more flies with honey. He could pretend to have a show of good faith, even if he had no interest in this dog. He wanted him on their side, after all. It couldn’t be hard to accomplish, all those rénzhā wanted the same thing: money.
“Zhao?” that rénzhā tilted his head, frowning. “Like Wei.”
“Yes, like Wei. We’re the ones who hired you – well, your contact – and, of course, we’ll make sure you’re paid as you should for your job... once you go back.” Gui stated. “But before that, we need to know about the people who were after Wei.”
That orange head shook side to side, gaze firmly on his. “I ain’t know shit ‘bout that.”
“No? I’m sure you’re familiar with that terrorist group... West Tower?”
The rénzhā stood, but he didn’t approach. “I told you, I ain’t know shit ‘bout that.”
“Why are you protecting them? They’re the ones who kidnapped-”
“No,” that lowly dog said, then paused. “Well... yeah, but they ain’t the ones to cause the crash.”
Gui frowned this time. “What do you mean?”
“When I got to Wei,” the rénzhā said, “There was ‘nother pod comin’ after him, with two guys. They ain’t lookin’ or speakin’ like none of us, they was all yours.”
Gui looked back to the camera briefly, then back at the man in front of him. “We’ll take you to Wei soon, but we need to know all you saw of those men. And we need to know all you know about West Tower.”
“I’ll help ya, for Wei, but I’m telling ya... I don’t really know anythin’ much.”
Biyu listened to the audio feed that corresponded with the cell, as the rénzhā recounted the crash and what had transpired after. The way he evaded saying much about West Tower made her think perhaps he was more involved with them than he let on; that he knew more... but she didn’t think there was much point pressuring him.
However, if what this lowly dog said was true... if West Tower really didn’t have the power to do this, that meant someone in Taizhou was responsible. Who could be doing this? Someone coming after their posts in the council? Someone seeking leverage...?
The door to the security room slid open, and Gui came back through.
“It’s a relief to hear those disgusting fèirénzhā can’t pull something like this, but...” she stated.
“I know,” he said.
“Maybe he’ll tell Wei something else.”
“Maybe,” Gui said.
“He’ll have to wait a little longer... we can’t send him over until we’re certain no one will see him. Can you imagine what people would say if they saw a rénzhā running around?” She turned back to the deputy. “Make sure he’s given something to cover that... thing he calls hair.” She waved a hand. “Make sure no one sees him when you escort him to Wei’s apartments. Leave someone guarding the place, he can’t leave without permission, understood?”
The deputy nodded. “Yes, madam.”
***
Oren watched Wei’s father leave the cell and the door lock again. Could he trust this guy? He’d seemed honestly surprised when Oren had said it hadn’t been West Tower who had originally caused Wei’s pod to crash, but he wasn’t sure he could fully trust these people. Not yet.
With a sigh, he sat back down on that hard bench. Man, these people really didn’t like them, did they? That guy’s face of disgust... who did he think he was? Dimian was what it was because of these bastards always skirting around sending the help they needed. Things would be a lot different if they shared even a tenth of the wealth they had.
With a sigh, he laid back down on the bench. Another pang of pain caused his gold eye to contract into a squint for a split second. He grumbled under his breath. All these little twitches and spasms were starting to get on his nerves. The constant, unexpected surges of pain did not help matters. But all that he cared about right now, was Wei.
He couldn’t go back home without making sure Wei was safe, and that guy, that... Gui; he’d promised he would get to see him... he’d also implied he’d be sent back after. Well, he supposed right now he couldn’t have gone home even if he’d wanted to.
He closed his eyes, but like before, he could find no real rest. His mind was reeling, going back and forth between worrying about Wei and the pangs of pain in his arm. He wasn’t sure how long after Zhao Gui had left it was – he’d certainly not been told the time, or even given food or water so as to know if a mealtime had passed – but the door opened again and he once more sat up. Before he could see who had entered, a white and cream piece of clothes was tossed right over his head.
“Put this on.” Came the order.
Oren pulled the garment off his face and held it out in front of him to see what it was, but didn’t question the order, knowing it was best to comply for now. He got to his feet, unzipped the jacket, and slipped it on over his overalls.
“Zip it. Hood up and follow me. Don’t take it off.” The man warned.
Oren watched the guy – one of the guards from earlier, if he wasn’t mistaken, though he was dressed in different clothes – and did as he was told, pulling the hood on and following out.
Two men escorted him down the same type of boring corridors, and back outside. Oren preemptively cringed. His eyes had grown accustomed to the light in the cell, but he wasn’t sure he could deal with daylight yet. However, he was spared as it was nighttime. He tried to look around now that he could, but one of the guards roughly grasped the back of his head and pushed it down.
“Gaze down.”
Oren grumbled, but watched the ground the entire way to the pod, and however long they were driving as well, their guards refusing to let him look up until they were back out of the pod, indoors, and in front of a nondescript white door that had no visible signs. One of the guards reached to ring the doorbell.
The door slid open after a couple rings. All Oren had time to see was a familiar slender hand reach out to grasp his jacket and pull him into the apartment. Oren looked up, eyes wide. It really was Wei...
“Oren, are you alright?”
The Wei he knew, but... clean, and smelling of something deliciously sweet. He fidgeted, and looked around at the pristine white apartment, suddenly feeling way out of place there.
“Did a doctor see you? Did they do something to you? Come,” Wei gently pulled him to a chair, and though Oren was afraid his mere presence would contaminate the clean beauty of the place, he followed.
“Sit, tell me.”
Chapter 12
Slowly, Oren pushed off his hood and looked around once more. So, this was what Wei’s place looked like. It was nice. Nicer than anything he’d ever seen. A large open space with clean, clearly delineated areas. The room was marked by the bed and dresser, separate from the rest by a frosted glass screen that gave some privacy. On the other side of the frosted screen was the office noo
k, a desktop with nothing but a glass tablet. The kitchen – just counters and cabinets extending over a wall – was to a side, along with the dining room, which had a small island and the table and chairs they now sat on. Everything had light, airy colors: whites, greys, pastel greens. It made him feel like he might dirty anything by just breathing on it. His eyes stopped on the large windows and then he couldn’t help himself. Though he’d only just sat, he stood again automatically and walked to them, looking out at the clear night sky, past the lights of those many white buildings, at the myriad of stars sparkling against the dark canopy. He’d never seen anything so beautiful.
He could feel Wei’s gaze burning at the back of his head, but he couldn’t look away from the sights.
“Oren?”
“Yeah...?” he said again.
There was silence for a while. At length Wei asked, “Are you hungry?”
His hand contracted in a spasm, his fingers twitched, needles of pain traveled up to his elbow. Oren’s gaze lowered from those hypnotizing stars and found the reflection of Wei on the glass, a frown creasing his brow, green eyes sad. He turned, forcing a little smile. “Shit, yeah- I mean... sorry, ’s just been one loooong day.”
Though Wei’s smile didn’t reach his eyes, Oren felt happy for it. It was the first one he’d seen on him, and it was as pretty as he’d thought it would be.
He walked back to the chair and sat, watching as Wei went to the kitchen area and pulled out some food to cook with from scratch. Real food, and not those rations they had in the slums of Dimian. He rested his arms on the table, crossing them, and leaned his head on them in turn.
His back still to him, Wei said, “Can I ask you something?”
“Since when ya need to ask?”
“Were you paid to help me?”
Oren licked his lips, but didn’t change positions, tired. “Not yet,” he half joked, as he’d heard of no money going into his account at the time. “I helped ya first ‘cause ya needed help.”
Wei turned briefly to watch him. “But my parents said...”
“I got hired after.” Oren wasn’t one to lie to friends, and he wasn’t about to start now. “Figured I was already helpin’ ya, didn’t hurt to make a return in the process. Life ain’t easy, as you saw, n’ a man’s gotta eat. But I told ya I’d protect ya, woulda still done it if no one’d offered pay.”
He watched Wei turn his back on him again, resuming his food preparation. The display on his eye crackled and frizzled again, briefly. It smelled nice. Of aromatic things he’d never smelled before, and real meat, and who knew what else. Oren closed his eyes and let out a long sigh.
“ ...ren.”
Oren opened his eyes again, reaching up to rub them, and ending up nearly poking his own eye as his fingers twitched. “Ow.” He plopped his head back on his arms in frustration.
“God, Oren, are you okay?”
Worry emanated in waves from Wei, so Oren lifted his head again and straightened. “Yeah.”
“Here,” Wei put a plate of food and something to drink before him, “Try to eat something, then we’ll get you to bed.”
Oren did not wonder about what was in front of him, nor did he linger watching how nice it looked, or how good it smelled. He had a first bite, and then a second, and then gobbled up the whole thing, completely forgetting his manners as he got lost in the taste of that... whatever it was he was eating. He wasn’t about to question it, questioning your cook about your meal sometimes brought answers you were better off not knowing. He downed his drink once he was done with the food. It was tasteless but most refreshing. Wei poured him another glass, and he downed it as well.
“Come,” Wei pulled at his arm gently, and Oren let him help him up and to the bed. When the man insisted, he took off his shoes, the jacket the guards had given him, and the overall. He took off the pants he’d kept on under them, staying only in his underwear, but stopped before getting on the bed.
“Where are ya gonna sleep?”
“I slept already, I’m not tired right now. Come on,” Wei insisted.
Oren didn’t fight it; now that they had stopped running, now that the adrenaline had stopped pumping and the danger was no longer imminent, he felt absolutely exhausted. He laid down, the bed seeming to mold perfectly to his body. He ran his fingers over the soft duvet to bring it over his waist, rolled to his side, took a deep breath of the unknown sweet scent coming from the pillow, and closed his eyes. He knew no more of the world.
***
Wei watched Oren close his eyes and all but pass out. He sighed. Oren had given him quite a scare. He’d been cooking and talking to him, and then all of a sudden, he’d stopped getting answers. When he’d turned, food at the ready, Oren had been asleep. He’d had to shake him and call his name five times before the man had lifted his head again. And now there he was, passed out again as soon as his head had touched the pillow, lights still on and all.
Just how tired was this guy? Maybe he’d hit his head too hard? Though irrational, Wei had to reach out and feel his pulse, fearing he might have just up and died; but Oren was breathing normally, as shown by the steady rise and fall of his chest, and his heartbeat seemed steady. He was just asleep. Relief washed over him.
Wei pulled one of the kitchen chairs over and sat by the bed, watching Oren’s sleeping form and the damage to his body. It didn’t look like they had called a doctor for him after all; they had certainly not fed him, if the way he’d eaten was any indication. What had they done with him all day? He reached across and pulled the duvet up.
Oren’s hand underwent another spasm just as he was letting go, His fingers shook and moved in all opposite directions for a split second, as if he’d been electrocuted. Wei frowned again, reaching for that arm instead and pulling it towards himself, careful not to hurt or wake him. Oren slept on, quite deeply so, making him feel confident about exploring things to his heart’s content. The arm felt normal. The skin felt like real skin to the touch, and there seemed to be muscles underneath. Wei had half expected to feel the hardness of metal implants.
Whatever mod he had was either quite advanced or quite well done. Possibly both. He ran a finger over the raw mark left behind by the cuffs, just over his wrist. That screen he’d seen before came to life on his skin. It flickered and fizzled and blinked on and off a few times. It turned itself off a few moments later, when Wei provided no further input. Wei got up to find some disinfectant and, armed with this, resumed his exploration for wounds, cleaning each cut and scrape as he found them, but keeping his attentions from the waist up.
Oren didn’t even flinch, even when Wei pressed the disinfectant to the worst wounds, he slept on soundly; Wei supposed it was good that he hadn’t woken him, but it was also ever so slightly worrying. He had to have been quite exhausted indeed. When done, Wei again covered the man with the duvet.
Leaning back on his seat, he watched Oren’s chest raise and fall with each steady breath. The man’s features had never been too hard, but they still softened considerably when he was sleeping. Though he was still rather dirty, Wei repaired once again on the imperfections of his skin – a barely noticeable scar on his neck, the hairs of one eyebrow that seemed to thin slightly towards the end, likely due to another, older scar. Oren’s jaw was darkened by a bruise, but also by some orange stubble. Interesting, he’d thought the hair was some sort of dye. Following another impulse, Wei found himself running his fingers over the short hairs. It tickled. Had the hair color been genetically modified? Surely neon orange wasn’t his natural color. Professional curiosity briefly mixed with personal one. He leaned in as if a closer look would give him the answer only testing could. Oren turned his head and lazily opened his eyes, bumping nose with Wei’s.
Wei froze.
“... whatcha doin’?” came the sleepy drawl.
He pulled back quickly, cheeks burning. “Nothing.”
Wei got to his feet and replaced the chair back by the table, he put the empty plate and glass away to
wash, ran a cloth over the counter and table, though they were already quite clean, and finally peered back over his shoulder. Oren was lying on his side, awake, watching him through half lidded eyes.
Cheeks burning, Wei scrubbed the table unnecessarily hard. He heard the rustle of sheets and a soft grunt. He sighed and left the scrub aside.
“T’bed’s big. Come sleep.”
Wei looked back. Oren’s back was to him now. His gaze fell on some old scars there, on the bruises, on the lion’s head coming around his side and digging its nails on his shoulder blade. He came closer. The tattoo was so well done, the shadows and highlights carefully created to resemble real life. It almost seemed like the claws were truly ripping on skin.
He sat uneasily on the bed, fidgeted, laid down on his back by Oren. When the other said nothing, he turned to face the man’s back. His fingers traced the lion’s claws and in response Oren shivered, but as he remained quiet, Wei assumed he was once more asleep.
“Lights,” he called, and in the darkness of the room closed his eyes. Sleep took him once again with ease.
He was running. He was chased. They were going to kill him if they caught him. They were going to torture him and kill him. Where was Oren? He was running and slipping on the grime covered street. The scent of decay made his eyes water. He was running against the crowd, everyone seemed to be going the wrong way. The further he ran the more people he bumped against. He tried to push his way past.
Gunshots. Everyone kept heading towards the gunshots instead of away. Were they insane? They’d be killed! And where was Oren?
“Oren!” he cried.
The crowd thinned. He ran faster, slipped, stumbled, recovered his footing and ran again. Where to go? He knew nothing and no one there. He knew only Oren.
“Oren!”
The street ended abruptly, falling to a dark, endless cliff. He tried to stop, too late and too slow. He skidded on the grime, fell right out of the cliff. His fingers found purchase on the slippery ledge. He fought to keep hold but just kept on slipping.
