Dragon's Ark

by D Scott Johnson

  “What do you mean she’s gone?” He would wait until they were walking through the lobby to update her.

  He was so damned casual about it. “She’s vanished. Spencer’s got two packs of rovers out, and they haven’t come up with anything yet.”

  Rovers were the finest hunting construct they had access to behind the Great Firewall. Kim could hide from them; maybe Spencer could too, but they should’ve picked up an unduplicate’s trail in a matter of seconds.

  Tonya asked, “Do you think the Chinese have her?”

  “I’m not sure,” Mike replied. “I still can’t get into Chinese realmspace, but Spencer hasn’t found anything. I haven’t seen any traffic on my side that would indicate a problem.”

  All they needed was for Mike to spark an international incident because of his…okay, she had to stop thinking of Zoe as a dog.

  Dogs obeyed.

  It was too early in the morning to put up with all this. “Mike, damn it. Find her.”

  “I didn’t do this on purpose.”

  “Oh, right, she just mailed herself out here.”

  “This isn’t a package; she’s a person, and sometimes people do dumb things.”

  “I don’t care. Find her before she gets us arrested. I don’t need to spend the next three weeks trying to figure out how to bail us out of a Chinese prison.”

  Mike’s first business meeting was in the evening in a nearby city, Leshan. It meant their day was completely free. Hooking up with a local was one of her goals, but she had no idea how to make it happen. Ozzie didn’t count. He was from Beijing, which was more than a thousand miles from here. That left one other choice.

  “Spencer, where’s this friend of yours, anyway?” He’d told her about the guy, Shan, over breakfast. Discreet searches didn’t turn up anything about him, and he was from the area. Clean and local seemed like a pretty good match. At least they wouldn’t have to rent a car.

  Spencer pointed him out right after they walked through the main doors of the lobby. “He’s over there, on the right. He volunteered to drive us.”

  “I don’t need a driver, Spencer,” Kim replied. “I just need a car.”

  It was hot enough outside to make her sweat. It reminded her a lot of Fairfax in August, but with the added smell of fried food from the vendors parked along the street.

  “You’re serious about driving on Chinese roads?” Tonya asked.

  It wasn’t that scary. “I’m not letting my international permit go to waste.”

  The only reliable way to avoid being touched in a car was to be the driver. People didn’t slide into the driver. Just the thought of an accidental touch made the madness under her skin bubble, especially after that nightmare. “I had to spend hours in simulated Chinese traffic to get it.”

  “Kim,” Mike said, “most of these drivers have only been on the road a few years. I’m not sure they all know how to steer.”

  “They know how to steer, Mike. This isn’t Russia.”

  Unlike Russia, Chinese highway carnage was mostly scooters and pedestrians playing chicken with multi-ton vehicles and losing. They were hard to dodge at first, but it boiled down to remembering they were there, and that the car’s AI wouldn’t rescue her. Self-driving vehicles were years away from coping with China’s chaos.

  Kim was bringing the car back with its side mirrors still attached when she was done with the simulations. At least Shan had good taste in vehicles. No Dongfeng or Kia here; it was a proper Ford minivan with more than enough room for everyone.

  Kim switched to Beijing-standard Mandarin. “Nice car.”

  He switched to English and asked Spencer, “This Kim?”

  They all glared at her. Of course everyone thought she'd said something rude. Kim switched to English. “God, guys, all I said was nice car.”

  Switching back to Mandarin, she stared at a spot three inches in front of his shoes. This wouldn’t be easy. She bowed deeply. “Li-Jang Shan, sir, I wish to make a request of you.”

  “Spencer,” Shan said, “you say she angry lady?”

  Kim filed that one away for another time. She needed Shan’s keys but couldn’t simply ask for them. She’d spent a lot of time hanging out with Chinese hackers in her previous life, most of them male, and had learned a thing or two about what made them tick.

  He wouldn’t give his keys to a woman just because she asked. Paying wouldn’t make any difference either. It’d be easier to pry them out of concrete. She had to do some ego stroking first. “Li-Jang, sir, I have had many dreams about coming to your country, many dreams, but the one I cherish most of all is one only you can fulfill.”

  “It is?” He sounded more scared than intrigued. It probably wasn’t every day that an American asked him for his car keys.

  She needed to reassure him, but it was really hard. “Yes, Li-Jang, sir. I…”

  Maybe sitting in the back would work. Except a pothole might knock someone against her. Full body contact. Kim fought what her stomach kicked up.

  “I wish only to drive a vehicle in your country.”

  “Spencer,” he said. “This Kim, she okay?”

  “Dude, I don’t know what she asked you.”

  “He wants to drive car.”

  Good. She had him rattled enough he screwed up his pronouns.

  “Kim crazy?”

  “All I can tell you is that when she asks you for something, you’re better off giving it to her.”

  Shan switched back to Mandarin. “You’re serious? Your biggest wish visiting China is to drive a car here?”

  “Li-jang, sir, it has been one of my deepest wishes. I am unworthy, but would be desperately honored if you were to grant me this boon.” It was worse than apologizing to Mike that time she'd eaten all the yogurt. If Shan didn’t cough those keys up soon her head would explode.

  “Do you have a permit to drive in China?”

  “Yes, Li-jang, sir.” She gave it to him. “Mr. Sellars has agreed to a generous payment for you if you were to grant me this wish.” Kim finally lifted her head high enough to see Mike and everyone else. They all stared at her like she was a dancing frog.

  In English, she asked, “Mr. Sellars, the bonus?”

  His mouth went up and down a few times. So typical.

  “Mr. Sellars?”

  “Oh, um, right. This is the bonus?”

  It was enough of her cash to pay the kid’s rent for the next six months.

  Even bowed over she could make Mike blanch with a look. He nodded after the transfer finished.

  Shan gasped. “I would be quite happy to grant you this honor.”

  Her stomach jumped at a metallic jingle. They were real keys. “You don’t have a token for it?”

  He scrunched his face up and shook his head. “My…” he cleared his throat. “My dad doesn’t trust them.”

  Shan held the keys in his hands. Normal people would just reach up and grab them. It was no good to come this close and then fail at the finish line. She needed the protection the driver’s seat would provide.

  At least the keys were hanging from his hand. “Thank you, Li-jang, sir,” she said, trying to hold her voice steady. Just a few more inches and it would be over. The metal of the keys hit her hand.

  And then the tips of Shan’s fingers grazed hers.

  Her hand shriveled in a fire nobody else could see, and then her fingers felt like they dislocated and curled backward. Kim dropped the keys but somehow managed to stay on her feet.

  “Kim,” Tonya asked, “are you all right?”

  She concentrated on spreading the pain, taking it in and through her. Within moments it was just thick acid in her blood. “I’ll be fine,” she said as she bent and picked up the keys.

  Shan stared at her. Well, the kid deserved an explanation.

  Kim shrugged. “Cramps.”

  He cocked his head.

  So much for appealing to feminine problems. This was China. He probably didn’t have a sister. “It’s okay. I’m fine.”
r />   The hotel was only a few blocks away from the Ring Road Expressway on the map. Unfortunately, construction took them away from the neat ramps and detoured them through a piece of the older city. She spent half an hour dodging scooters, motorcycles, pedaled rickshaws, and random pedestrians crossing wherever they felt like it. Kim retracted the outside mirrors to squeeze past a panel van traveling against one-way traffic.

  Her passengers shouted so loudly it her made her ears ring.

  “Oh, would you all be quiet back there?” she scolded into the rear view mirror. “It’s not that bad.”

  Tonya grabbed the handle over her door. “Kim! Eyes on the road!”

  She leaned on the horn and cursed a blue streak out the window at a truck trying to cut her off. The driver’s expression was priceless when a white girl suggested he do rude things to his ancestors. Shocking Chinese drivers was easily the best part of driving in China.

  She forced yet another flea speck Tata microcar up on a curb, scattering people waiting at a bus stop.

  Shan turned to Spencer behind him. “She pretty good.”

  Damned right she was pretty good. Those lessons were expensive.

  “Dude, really, not the right time.”

  The highway was easier, until an eighteen-wheeler backed up to catch a missed off-ramp. DC-area traffic might not be the gold standard for highway chaos after all. The truck was easy enough to avoid. The little microcars were a lot harder to spot.

  A dull silence had settled over the back seats. “See?” she said, lightly fishtailing around a Kia stacked with hay bales. “It’s not so bad, is it?”

  A glance in the mirror told a different story. Tonya had her head on her knees with her hands steepled in front of them. Spencer wouldn’t look anywhere but at his shoes. Mike just stared at her with a great big grin.

  On the one hand she was a little annoyed. Everyone should’ve been terrified. On the other, at least someone had faith in her.

  She dodged an entire family skittering across the interstate pushing carts full of produce in front of them. Shan laughed and lit a cigarette. Kim hadn’t smoked in years, but it would be rude to refuse his offer.

  So that’s how they spent the next two hours: an American girl with a cigarette mostly made of ash hanging out of her mouth driving a minivan full of terrorized passengers down an interstate in China. Maybe this vacation thing would work out after all.

  *

  “Guys, really,” she leaned on the horn again and gently nudged yet another microcar aside. “I got this.”

  “Kim,” Tonya said, “are we there yet?”

  “Yeah,” Spencer said with only a slightly hysterical chuckle, “I think I’ve soiled my armor.”

  She parked the car and gave herself an internal high five. Not a single person ran to puke in the woods. Achievement unlocked!

  Mike bounded out the side door of the van, full of that infectious wonder he brought wherever he went. “I can’t believe I’m really here.”

  The Leshan Buddha was famous in Asia but nearly unknown back home. Carved out of the living rock more than a thousand years ago, it had been the largest free-standing sculpture in the world until well into the twentieth century, standing—well, sitting—more than three times taller than the Egyptian sculptures of Abu Simbel.

  Tours weren’t free, of course, and they hadn’t put ticket purchasing online. Kim moved well to the side of the chaos around the booths as the rest of them paid the entrance fees.

  There was no way she could ever stand in line for tickets in China. Everyone crowded in, shouting and pushing. She kept her distance and pretended to be invisible.

  Her floppy hat gave her some breathing space in the tropical heat, but only a little. Spencer, in his black T-shirt and jeans, had to be frying, but he was too excited to slow down much. Everyone else fanned themselves with guidebooks while the lines moved.

  Walking out of the tunnel through the air lock lifted a sweaty weight off her shoulders. Air conditioning at last. Kim leaned against a guardrail.

  The face of the statue was at least twenty feet long, with hypnotically serene eyes that stared out across where three rivers merged together. The windows that enclosed the entire cliff face made the statue more peaceful, recreating a silence that the nearby city had destroyed more than a century ago. The brick-red cheeks contrasted strongly with the black of its carved stone hair, and the green of its moss-covered clothes lent the air an earthy smell. Songbirds flitted and whistled faint alarms far below. It was calming and humbling at the same time. Kim usually only felt this kind of peace around Mike.

  “Shan, check out that stairway,” Spencer said. A series of steep steps were carved into the cliff face on the opposite side of the statue.

  “Yes, it very steep, hard to get down quickly.”

  “You ready to try?”

  “Go!”

  They raced across the platform, jostling other tourists as they passed. Tonya rolled her eyes and followed at a more sedate pace.

  There might have been space for two friends going opposite directions if they slid sideways and knew each other really well. People were routinely nudging to get by. “Mike,” she said, gripping the rail tightly. “I can’t go down there. You should go on ahead.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “I’m not a Buddhist. This is your place. Please. I’ll be fine.” She had to remind herself what a jerk he could be, but his smile made it tough. By the time she wiped her cheeks dry he was gone.

  Kim found a far corner of the outcrop, well out of the crowds, as everyone else threaded their way down the narrow stairway. Shan beat Spencer in the race, and they hooted and high-fived each other in front of the guardrails that separated the site from the riverbank.

  She lost sight of Mike, but it was easy to pick Tonya out. They waved to each other as Tonya stood in front of the statue’s feet far below. The crowd swirled briefly again, and then cleared around bright yellow kneeling pillows in front of the altar. That’s when she spotted him.

  Among Mike Sellars’s many miraculous traits, strangely enough, it was his faith that impressed her the most. He was open about it but never pushy or preachy. His morning chants at sunrise were one of the highlights of her day. She’d never cried harder in her life than when she saw that empty prayer mat on their balcony after their last big blowup.

  Kim reached out through realmspace to talk to him but hit a wall. He still hadn’t managed to connect. He prayed without her, hundreds of feet out of reach.

  Chapter 12: Zoe

  There was probably some sort of monitor on her translator. She saw those posters in that last realm they’d taken her to and bam! Chinese po po shut her down. And not just any cop shut her down, either. Some sort of scary Mike-thing that could crush a realm and made horror-movie sounds of metal and rage. Mike was a big fuzzy teddy bear, nothing like that monster.

  And then there was Fee’s contact. Jesus, what a stiff.

  “Has the package been delivered?” His voice was masked to pitch it deep and scary.

  No hello or how’s it going. The hyper-literal interfaces unduplicates used would naturally manifest exhaustion as a stink. She really needed a download after that encounter. “Soon. Regina Mills is on her way.” Zoe had gotten Mike to haul her crystal ass across the ocean. She had no idea how Fee was managing it.

  “Excellent. Tell Regina when she arrives events will move quickly. Daughters are disobedient.” Then the bastard hung up without another word.

  Ten hours passed. Ten hours stuck in the realm equivalent of a sack. If her core pump didn’t have a GPS clock, she wouldn’t even know that much. Zoe played with the edges of the hatch, counting the encryption sigils that were all that stood between her and Miss Monstrosity. Then she counted them again.

  She’d give anything to have a book, or maybe an old TV series. Scandal, Game of Thrones, anything from the golden age would do. Mike had used them for cognitive therapy when she woke up; she hadn’t gotten around to finishing any of them.
All she had now was the voice-only connection that was part of the hideout, and that went dead as soon as Fee’s contact hung up.

  There wasn’t enough space in here to properly run her garbage collector. It itched. One of the security sigils flicked open almost by itself. Okay, she was playing with it, but it wasn’t like there was anything else to do in here. Zoe looked at the one on the opposite side. If this one let go that way, then that other one…

  The sigil snapped open with a clack, and the hatch loosened enough to let the clean dataspace outside leak in. It reminded her of the pavilion, cool and fresh. Her hands more or less worked on their own, and soon there were just two sigils holding the hatch down. Light from the passage realm streamed in. She really needed to get out of here.

  Everyone outside was, naturally, speaking Chinese, and Zoe now knew she couldn’t trust any translators on this side of the Firewall. A few quick peeks confirmed another thing she suspected: Fee’s hidey-hole not only held off the attack, it moved around. She was lost, but at least there wouldn’t be anyone nearby looking for her.

  Then she noticed the data traces. Mike really did, somehow, inhabit all of realmspace, at least outside the Great Firewall. He’d given her a plug-in that could spot his presence. This was similar—very faint lines that traced along the borders of the realm. The plug-in hadn’t auto launched when she woke up in China, so Zoe had missed it before.

  After breathing fresh data construct through the crack in her manhole cover for half an hour, the presence hadn’t changed one bit. If anything, it’d moved further away. Fee wouldn’t be here for hours.

  To hell with this. She already knew it spoke English.

  As Zoe closed in on Miss Mystery’s main nexus, she fired up camouflage screens. They’d work now that Mystery wasn’t staring right at her.

  The traces were especially strong through what had to be an entire Bbox full of lounge realms—thousands of them. Zoe got ahead of Mystery’s search pattern and settled in an empty disco realm that was closed for the day. The patrolling perception thrummed through the room, a kind of spotlight Zoe had to know about ahead of time to see.