Ruse

by Cindy Pon

  The man, Jany thought, was not subtle.

  A gorgeous woman dressed in a deep purple qipao greeted her at the top of the stairs leading into the jet. Her black hair was coiled expertly at the nape of her neck. “Ms. Tsai”—she extended a hand to offer Jany a flute of sparkling champagne—“welcome! Mr. Jin is eager to meet you in Beijing.”

  The short flight was smooth and uneventful. The attendant asked twice if Jany needed anything, but she said no both times. When she deplaned, an airlimo that appeared to be an exact replica of the one that had transported her in Shanghai was ready to whisk her directly to Jin Corp Beijing.

  They cruised over the capital, and Jany gazed down with a mixture of awe and horror. She’d never ridden in an airlimo before today, had never imagined she’d get a bird’s-eye view of this ancient city. It stretched endlessly beneath her, gray concrete built upon more gray concrete, smothered in a blanket of brown haze. If she had thought Shanghai’s air quality was bad, Beijing’s was many times worse. Studies had shown that ten years had already been shaved off the life expectancies for those living in northern China. How soon before that was a reality for the entire country?

  Her airlimo veered, flying along the edge of the Forbidden City. Jany had never visited Beijing—the trip was far and too expensive for her family, who lived in a small town in the Yunnan province. But she recognized the sprawling imperial grounds immediately, like recalling some deep, ancestral memory. The majestic buildings were set in neatly lined squares. It was clear that the Forbidden City was a no-fly zone, as the airlimo stayed outside its limits. Jany pressed her nose against the window, peering down at golden curved rooflines and all the white stone steps, so clean they seemed to gleam in the hazy light.

  The extravagant trip did not impress her, as she was certain was Jin’s intent. Instead, she felt overwhelmed by his blatant wealth and wary of his intentions. She had suspicions about why Jin wanted to meet, but they seemed improbable. Jany had no idea what to expect, and she didn’t like it.

  Not long after, her car glided onto the rooftop of a high-rise, its opaque golden windows reflecting the skyline surrounding them. A tall man in a black suit opened the airlimo door for her. “Welcome to Jin Corp Beijing, Ms. Tsai,” he said in a gruff voice.

  Jany nodded, gripping the worn straps of her backpack as she slid out of the car. The rooftop held at least a dozen airlimos and airpeds. She followed the taciturn man into an elevator with gold doors, etched with chrysanthemums. “Twenty-ninth floor,” he said aloud.

  In mere seconds, it seemed, the elevator dinged and the doors opened onto an opulent foyer tiled in white marble. A dark circular mahogany console was set in the middle. Another beautiful woman who was dressed in the same deep purple qipao as the attendant on the plane beamed at Jany as they approached. “Ms. Tsai, welcome to Jin Corp Beijing. Please step forward for your scan.”

  Jany blanched. Government institutions used retina scans for identification purposes, but why would Jin, whom she had no connection with? The suited man had disappeared behind a discreet side door. “I’d rather not. I have my student ID.”

  The woman smiled, flashing perfect white teeth. “ID cards are so easily replicated. For your safety as well as the company’s, we must insist on verifying your identity.”

  “How would you even have a record of my retina scan?” Jany asked.

  “I assure you that Jin Corp has it on record.” She inclined her head in what should have been a gesture of acquiescence, but instead, Jany could feel the hairs on her arms rise. Jin was a private business, which meant it had paid someone for access to retina scans it wasn’t supposed to have. This only magnified her unease.

  “Jin was the one who wanted to meet with me,” Jany replied. “Does he want to or not?” She spoke with more bravado than she felt. “I can leave now.” She forced herself not to search wildly around the foyer for an exit. She probably couldn’t even access the elevator.

  The woman pressed two fingers to her ear and dipped her chin. “Yes, sir. I’ll send her in.” Jin had been watching the entire exchange. Jany knew Jin’s reputation as a ruthless businessman, but she suddenly realized how out of her depth she was—she hadn’t even told anyone about this meeting.

  “Please make your way through the double doors.” The woman stood, revealing the intricate embroidering details on her qipao, and swept a hand toward the opposite side of the foyer, where opaque glass doors had slid open. “Mr. Jin is waiting for you.”

  Jany turned and drew a long breath; there was no going back now. Her sneakers squeaked loudly against the marble floor, and she tried not to cringe. The glass doors opened into a wide hallway aglow with warm ambient lighting. Another woman, this one petite and curvaceous, waited for her. She was dressed in a deep blue suit. “Good afternoon, Ms. Tsai.” The woman gave her a slight nod. “Please follow me.”

  They walked along the endless corridor across plush carpeting. Jany took in as much as she could, but other than walls adorned with exquisite scrolls of Chinese brush paintings, and a few closed doors, the journey offered little. Finally, the woman stopped at double doors inlaid with jade carvings—scenes of mountains, clouds, and pine trees—and stood beneath a domed contraption—a brain wave scanner. Her features were illuminated in blue neon as the scanner confirmed her identity. It stopped with a short whirling noise, and the double doors unlocked. The woman pushed one door back and nodded. Jany entered, gathering courage in knowing Jin was the one who’d asked her to come. She had the upper hand.

  She stepped into a corner office with two banks of floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Beijing. A long wooden table dominated the room, flanked by curve-backed chairs. But Jin himself was sitting on a leather sofa by the windows. He didn’t bother to stand, or even to greet her. Jin simply raised an elegant hand and beckoned her over, like she was some obedient lapdog. Not knowing what else to do, Jany approached him.

  “Ms. Tsai,” he said, scrutinizing her face, then letting his dark eyes take in her worn sweatshirt and faded jeans. There was a hole in the toe of her right sneaker, and she wished more than anything she had worn her other pair of shoes instead, even if these were more comfortable. Jany was certain those sharp eyes missed nothing.

  Then anger flared in her chest, because she had felt shame under his gaze. Shame that she was too poor to afford better clothes for this meeting. Jin treated her as lesser than him; like he was used to seeing everyone as his inferior.

  “Mr. Jin,” she replied, and stared at him unabashedly in turn. The man was trim and well dressed; his suit, shoes, and accessories probably cost more money than she’d ever seen. His thick black hair was perfectly coiffed, and his features were youthful, unlined. She knew Jin was in his midforties, but he glowed with a healthiness and assurance that only wealth could afford.

  “Sit.” He indicated a leather chair across from him. “I hope you had a smooth journey?” He smiled a smile that did not reach his eyes.

  “Yes.” Jany did not relax into the chair, but instead sat straight-backed, with her backpack still on.

  Jin lifted an eyebrow, then waved a hand. The same woman who had led her here approached with a tray of tea. She poured in silence, then set plates of walnuts, dried dates, and candied pineapples on the table between them before disappearing again.

  Jin took a sip of tea. “I’m familiar with your background, Ms. Tsai.” His lips curved. “A student with excellent grades and test scores gaining entry into the prestigious Shanghai University’s competitive graduate engineering program, continuing to receive top scores and grades”—he steepled his long fingers together—“but what interests me is what you have been doing outside the university, on your own.”

  Jany’s scalp crawled. She had suspected Jin had called this meeting about her invention—but how had he known? Fewer than a handful of people were aware of this project she had been working on. “Oh?” she said, keeping her expression blank.

  Jin leaned forward. “I understand your air filter is
more effective, compact, and energy efficient than what is currently on the market. And likely much cheaper to build. An incredible achievement, Ms. Tsai.”

  Jany saw no point in denying the fact, but it was clear he didn’t know the specifics. Her invention was no ordinary filter. “Why am I here?” she asked.

  He refilled his teacup, and even though she was thirsty and hungry, she had nothing. Somehow, she felt if she partook in what was offered, he would gain even more of an upper hand in their meeting.

  “You are spare with words and cut to the point.” He laughed, and it sounded genuine. “I admire your intelligence and drive, your obviously strong work ethic. I’m always looking to support young inventors and entrepreneurs. . . .” He trailed off.

  Jany’s heart picked up speed. She had just filed a patent for her design and was ready to research the best way to fund-raise and gain investors, so she could bring her catalyst onto the market. If she could get help from Jin, with his money and reach, anything was possible. “I’m looking for the right investors.”

  Jin grinned, and it made him appear younger, but wolfish at the same time. He sat back and threw an arm casually across the top of the sofa, then cocked his head. “I’d like to buy your invention from you outright, Ms. Tsai. You do need the money.” He uttered the last sentence as a statement. “I can offer you eight million yuan for your air filter. I take it off your hands, you pocket the money and finish your doctoral program.” He paused. “Take care of your family.”

  She felt the blood drain from her face. What did Jin know about her family?

  As if he were looking inside her head, Jin continued, “I know your mother has emphysema and your younger brother struggles with asthma—illnesses that can both turn serious without the right medical attention. Your family would benefit so much from this deal. Wouldn’t it set your mind at ease?” Jin smiled that fake smile again.

  Jany’s shoulders tensed. Although Jin’s words and tone were kind, she detected an underlying current, and it belied his apparent concern. “I’m not looking to sell.”

  “Ah.” Jin drummed his fingers against the sofa top. “I think you’re being rash. To get something like this off the ground might take years—never mind the funding necessary.”

  “What do you want to do with my invention?” she asked.

  “Show us Jin Tower,” he voice-commanded.

  The wall of windows beside them darkened, went opaque, and then Shanghai’s famous skyline came into view. Jany recognized Jin Tower immediately. At 188 floors, it was now the tallest building in the world, a silver shard jutting into the brown skyline.

  “My vertical city.” Jin tilted his chin toward the Shanghai views. “This is the first, and I plan to build many more throughout China, Taiwan, and the rest of the world. Clean air is a luxury your filters can provide for my vertical cities.”

  Of course. The filters Jin was using now were huge and cumbersome, requiring special cranes to lift them into his tower. Jany had observed them with interest during the building’s construction. They were also massive energy sinks. “I wanted my invention to be used in hospitals, clinics, orphanages”—Jany gripped the armrests to keep her voice even—“for those who need them most.”

  Jin nodded understandingly. “Of course. I don’t see why not.”

  She barely contained her snort, making a strange choking noise instead. She knew what Jin meant. He’d sell her invention to anyone who wanted it—at the right price. “No.”

  He leaned forward, capturing her with his sharp gaze. “I’m impressed by your negotiating skills. I’ll double my offer: sixteen million yuan.”

  Jany swallowed hard. She couldn’t help thinking of everything she could do with that amount of money—do for her family. She closed her eyes a moment and knew in her gut that Jin would not take no for an answer. She was trying to outsmart a man under criminal investigation for coercion and blackmail in Taiwan, trying to negotiate with someone who believed everyone could be bought for a price. She’d use that belief in her favor. “I . . . I don’t know. That’s a lot of money.” There was no need to act shocked, because she was. “I need to think about it.”

  Jin smiled, and this one seemed genuine. He was pleased. “Of course. It’s a big decision. But I think after a good night’s rest, you’ll realize it’s the right one. You have a suite at the Four Seasons tonight, and everything’s on me. Enjoy Beijing. We can talk again tomorrow.”

  He rose, and she stood awkwardly. The windows became translucent once more. She could see the Forbidden City from here. “I’m sure we’ll come to an agreement, Ms. Tsai. My driver will take you to the hotel.”

  Jin lifted his palm in a gesture of dismissal. The jade doors had slid open noiselessly, and Jany exited the room, relieved that he didn’t want a handshake.

  Jany rode to the Four Seasons Hotel in Jin’s airlimo in a daze. The driver parked expertly at the front entrance, and she somehow stumbled out and found her way into the hotel’s glittering lobby. Dazzling chandeliers cast a dreamlike glow over the rich patrons staying at the hotel, wearing jade and diamond jewelry and clutching designer purses worth more than her family had seen in a lifetime. The purified air smelled slightly perfumed with gardenia. She checked in with a man dressed in a black jacket at the marble reception desk; a massive landscape brush painting served as the reception area’s backdrop.

  The young man glanced behind her, as if looking for luggage, and smiled graciously. “Will you need help up to your suite, Ms. Tsai?”

  Embarrassed, she shook her head. “I’ll find my way.”

  She wandered down a wide corridor flanked by marble columns, then spotted what she was looking for. Slipping into the bathroom, she went into a private toilet more opulent than she’d ever seen and locked the wooden door securely behind her. Quickly, she scrolled through her Palm and booked a ticket for the first available high-speed train from Beijing to Shanghai. There was no way she’d stay to see Jin again the next day. It wasn’t until she was settled on the crowded train, the air thick with everyone’s breath and sweat, that Jany finally allowed herself to lean back in the seat and let out a long sigh. She’d be back at her dorm in five hours.

  Jany kept glancing over her shoulder on her way home from the train station. The crowds were thinner this late in the evening, and she felt exposed. Unable to decide if she should walk in the well-lit areas or slink through shadowed streets, she finally chose darkness. Having studied at Shanghai University for three years, Jany knew the area well and usually felt safe walking alone, even late at night.

  But tonight felt different. She had stayed vigilant during the long train ride home and had not seen anything unusual in the crowded car. Yet ever since she’d exited the train station, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was being watched, being followed. As she slinked down a dark alleyway, she heard someone behind her. Fear settled in her stomach, and she walked faster, glancing over her shoulder. A tall figure strolled a short distance behind, taking brisk steps. He wore a dark cap, and the shadows clung to him. Jany thought she saw a flash of white teeth. Was he smiling at her? Or grimacing in anticipation?

  The long, narrow street felt abandoned. No city noises reached them. She began running, and her shoe slipped through a shallow puddle. Jany slammed the heel of her hand against a wall so she wouldn’t fall, and she heard a noise from the stranger. A low chuckle. She sprinted full speed now toward the end of the alleyway, which opened onto a main street with more foot traffic. She no longer heard the stranger behind her, but it seemed every thud of her foot was magnified—was he matching her step for step?

  Finally, she burst from the side street, nearly slamming into a woman wheeling a wire basket stuffed full of vegetables. Without apologizing, Jany pushed past her and kept running, plowing through a group of men in business suits. One cursed at her, but she didn’t pause until she skidded into a brightly lit McDonald’s and ran down the stairs to the lower level. There was a back exit by the restroom, she knew, and she pushed
through, emerging into another alleyway, this one reeking of rotten cabbage and urine. She kept running, looking back only once. No one was behind her.

  When she reached her graduate housing fifteen minutes later, she was out of breath, her heart thumping hard against her rib cage. The tightness in her chest didn’t ease even as the main building’s door clicked shut behind her. She secured the flimsy lock to her dorm once inside and took stock of the cramped room. Her MacFold, probably her most prized possession, was sitting on the narrow wooden desk where she had left it. All her work on the catalyst existed only there and on a backup drive. She needed to secure her design.

  Jany sat on her narrow bed, rubbing her temples. She knew one person who could help her. She reached for her Palm and typed out a message with trembling fingers, remembering the vivacious fourteen-year-old girl she had befriended so many summers ago. Jany and Lingyi had spent two summers together, when her father had let her stay at Lingyi’s home in Taipei while she took courses at National Taiwan University. Despite the five-year age gap, they had so much fun exploring the city, and Lingyi’s parents had trusted her as a chaperone. Jany felt too paranoid to even dictate the words.

  Lingyi, I know it’s been years since we’ve seen each other. I’m in trouble and need your help. Could you meet me in Shanghai as soon as possible? Tell no one.