The camera zoomed in on his face to eyes full of strength and power. The corners of his mouth twitched ever so slightly upward as if he were about to smile. He wore the look of a chess master who had just checkmated his opponent.
Boiling anger hissed through Kate’s veins. You murdering dictator! My parents are rotting in one of your jails!
When he began to speak, the crowd fell silent, though most probably couldn’t understand his Japanese. The scrolling ribbon of text, however, translated his address.
GREETINGS, PEOPLE OF AMERICA. BY THE TIME YOU SEE THIS, YOUR ALLY, MEXICO, WILL HAVE FALLEN UNDER EMPIRE RULE. I HAVE INVITED YOUR LEADERS TO TALK, BUT THEY HAVE REFUSED. SO NOW, I EXTEND MY INVITATION DIRECTLY TO YOU, THE PEOPLE. YOUR COUNTRY HAS LOST ITS WAY, BUT IF YOU JOIN THE SAMURAI EMPIRE, I PROMISE A RETURN TO TRADITIONAL VALUES. JOIN PEACEFULLY, AND YOU WILL FIND THERE IS A PLACE THERE FOR EVERYBODY.
Not everybody. Kate suddenly remembered the word she’d been trying to think of earlier. “Hinin.” In Empire states, so-called “undesirables”—like the homeless, disabled, addicts, and orphans—were rounded up and put to work in Hinin Houses, hinin meaning “nonhuman” or “outcast.” And she would be one of them.
President Goda smiled and bowed, before the screen went blank. Then the text began to scroll again.
ALL CITIZENS OF THE UNITED STATES ARE ASKED TO STAY ALERT FOR A POSSIBLE ATTACK AND STAY TUNED TO ALL MEDIA OUTLETS FOR FURTHER DETAILS. THIS CONCLUDES THIS EMERGENCY ALERT MESSAGE.
A woman beside Kate waved her fist at the screen and shouted profanities about the Empire. The crowd, full of anxious faces and nervous chatter, quickly dispersed, rushing for the exit. But one man remained. He wore a baseball cap, jeans, and a denim jacket. When he turned to face her, Kate saw the eye patch.
The fight-or-flight instinct that she had honed since leaving the home kicked in immediately.
She bolted for the exit, pushing past a gang of students in navy blazers. After leaping over the turnstile, she sprinted across the road to the safety of the trees where she’d dressed earlier. She peered out from behind a tree trunk, but there was no sign of the man. Deciding to stay put until the coast was clear, she turned to go deeper into the woods.
The man stood in front of her. He looked Asian, with a black-and-gray ponytail hanging from his baseball cap. “Kate, I need to talk to you.”
She turned and raced through the trees. How did he do that? And he knows my name!
Ahead of her, the man stepped out from behind a tree.
What the … ?
She swerved to the left, only to find the man standing before her again.
Fight or flight.
She jabbed a fist at the man’s face, only to find that her hand went straight through his head. It connected with nothing. The guy was just air.
“If you stand still, I’ll tell you what’s going on,” he said.
Kate kicked hard between the man’s legs, but again, her foot didn’t connect and continued up through the man’s ghostly body, throwing her off-balance. She crashed onto her back and looked up helplessly at the man. He shimmered and then disappeared.
Heart racing, and gasping for breath, she sat up.
“I don’t know what that lioness said about me, but I mean you no harm.”
Behind her, the one-eyed man leaned against a tree.
He knows my secret!
“Yes, I know you can talk to animals. And now you know what I can do.”
Kate stood up. “You can disappear?”
“No. That person you attacked wasn’t me but an optical illusion. I can project my body into different locations.” His eye glittered as he spoke.
“You mean that wasn’t you in the zoo either?”
The man shook his head. “I’ve been here, waiting for you. My name is Makoto.”
“But how can you do that?”
“What I do is no more amazing than what you can do, Kate. In fact there are many others like us. We call ourselves the Black Lotus.”
“Is that, like, some kind of freak club?”
“You’ve seen the newsflash. The Empire is about to go to war with your country, one of the last free nations on the planet. The Black Lotus are the only ones who can stop them from winning. The street doesn’t need you, Kate. We do.”
And he handed her an envelope and a black flower.
Ghost shuffled toward the security checkpoint at Goda International Airport. Shoes no longer hurt his feet. Twenty-four hours on a flight from Rio to Tokyo had given him plenty of time to get used to them.
He smiled at the boys around him, who looked nervous. They were probably homesick already and missing their parents. But really, what did they have to worry about? They weren’t pretending to be a trainee Kat on his compulsory pilgrimage to Japan. They weren’t from favelas. They hadn’t just taken their first flight on an airplane. They weren’t carrying a fake passport and ID papers. They weren’t anti-Empire rebels traveling into the heart of the enemy’s territory to join some secret resistance group.
It was Ghost who should be worrying.
But he wasn’t. Instead he was repeating in his head the information he had memorized from Makoto’s envelope before burning it in the little stove in his hut.
My name is Cardosa Takehiko. My father’s name is Cardosa Leonardo, occupation: Kyatapira officer, Shizunai Division, registration number: 234976. My mother’s name is Cardosa Gabriela, occupation …
The Kat in the security booth beckoned him forward. Copying the boys who’d gone before him, Ghost handed the Kat his passport and papers, before turning his palms up to show the sword tattooed on each of his wrists. The Kat glanced at the passport, then at Ghost’s face and then at his wrists. He grunted, handed the passport back, and nodded for Ghost to proceed.
He followed the other Kittens out into the airport arrivals area where a line of Kyatapira officers waited with cardboard signs displaying the names of the boys who would be in their charge while in Japan. It wasn’t the sign displaying the name “Cardosa Takehiko” that caught his eye, but the Kat who was holding it. He had a long, sharp face, and from behind his sunglasses the cord of a black eye-patch was visible.
Again copying the other Kittens, Ghost bowed. Makoto took his bag and indicated that he should follow.
They walked out of the airport to a black SUV with tinted windows. Makoto glanced around before opening the rear passenger door for Ghost. Inside he saw a boy and a girl who looked about twelve, the same age as him. They smiled nervously. Having stowed Ghost’s luggage in the trunk, Makoto sat in the passenger seat. Their driver, a tall, thin Asian man, said something in Japanese. Makoto shook his head, took off his sunglasses, closed his single eye, and appeared to fall into a state of deep concentration. A vein pulsed in his neck.
Ghost remembered the way Makoto could project himself to other locations. Perhaps he was checking that the route ahead was safe.
The driver seemed to be awaiting instructions.
Makoto’s eye opened wide. “Go!” he ordered.
The SUV took off with a jolt, flinging Ghost back into the seat. He turned to the others, but they wouldn’t meet his eyes. Everyone seemed too nervous to speak. Their driver continually checked his rearview mirror. Ghost looked out the back window, but there was nothing behind them except traffic. Makoto too was quiet, the lines etched into his forehead making it obvious that something was on his mind.
As they left behind the bright lights of Tokyo and made their way along a highway into the countryside, Makoto seemed to relax. He turned to face his passengers. “Ghost, this is Cormac and Kate.”
The boy, Cormac, nodded. He had pale skin with tousled brown hair and a freckled face. He didn’t have the same soft, pampered eyes as most of the other boys Ghost had seen on the flight. His were the eyes of a favela kid: tough, strong, and full of secrets.
“Are you from the Empire too?” asked Kate, leaning forward to see past Cormac. She was pretty—blond with long eyelashes and nice teeth.
“Nope, well not yet, anyway. I’m American.”
Cormac shoved his tattooed wrists toward Makoto. “Can we get rid of these now?”
“Best keep them on you till we get there.”
“Which is where, exactly?” asked Kate, her tone fearless and her blue eyes twinkling.
These are my type of people, thought Ghost.
“Guess I should tell you guys what’s going on, eh?” said Makoto.
All three backseat passengers nodded.
“As you will know, through the ages, each Lord or President Goda has been famous for his two swords—the Butterfly and the Snake Eye—together the symbol of the Samurai Empire. And they’re more than just a symbol—they’re powerful in their own right. But there is a third sword.”
“Huh?” History wasn’t Ghost’s strong point, but everybody knew about the Empire’s two swords. Their image was everywhere. A third sword? Cormac and Kate seemed equally confused.
“The three swords were forged at the same time, five centuries ago. The Black Lotus also formed at this time, with the sole intention of stopping Goda. And our first act was to steal the third sword. We’ve been protecting it ever since.”
Ghost’s head spun as he tried to process the information. What’s so special about the third sword?
“No offense,” said Kate. “But you haven’t exactly been successful in preventing the rise of the Empire.”
Makoto snapped his head toward her, his eye narrowing ever so slightly. “Your country is still free, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, but maybe not for long.”
“If it hadn’t been for us, America would have been under Empire rule long ago. We may not have stopped the Empire, but we’ve hampered its progress.” Makoto inhaled deeply, then glanced out the window, as if checking for something. “Combined, the three swords are capable of catastrophic damage. That’s why the Empire has spent hundreds of years searching for its missing sword—and why the Black Lotus has spent all that time hiding it. We’ve also been building an army of talented soldiers to continue our work.”
“Guarding the sword?” asked Kate.
“More than that: spying, reconnaissance, war preparation. Anything we can do to help bring down the Empire. And you,” said Makoto, looking from Kate to Cormac to Ghost, “are our newest recruits.”
Ahead of them, backed-up traffic caused the SUV to stop. Makoto spoke to the driver. Though Ghost couldn’t understand the words, he sensed their urgency.
Makoto closed his eye again, and his brow puckered with concentration.
“Get out of the vehicle,” he snapped suddenly, his eye opening.
Ghost looked blankly at Cormac and Kate.
“Get out. Now!” shouted Makoto.
Ghost opened the door and the three of them scrambled out. Four lanes of traffic had ground to a standstill. Ahead, a long truck had jackknifed across the road.
Makoto pulled an earpiece out from under his collar and attached it to his ear. He then tapped his chest twice and spoke in a commanding voice. “All agents, this is Makoto. They’re about to attack. I’m taking my charges to the wooded valley northeast of our position. Send backup.”
Ghost looked around. About to atta—?
Gunshots rang out, and the windows of the SUV cracked. Makoto pulled his new recruits behind the vehicle.
“What’s going on?” yelled Kate, as gunfire rained onto the highway, smashing glass, ricocheting off metal, and puncturing tires.
Makoto shouted, “Lie down!”
Ghost dropped onto his belly as a bullet hit the car door exactly where he’d been kneeling a second earlier. Their driver left the relative safety of the SUV and grabbed the bumper of an empty van whose occupants had fled. With one hand, he dragged the vehicle over to their SUV and flipped it onto its side to form a shield against the incoming gunfire.
“Jeez,” said Kate to Ghost. “Did you see what that guy just did?”
Ghost was dumbstruck. All around him, people ran from their vehicles, screaming, ducking for cover. Some fell to the pavement, bleeding.
But some drivers were obviously Black Lotus. A bald man leaped from his car and leveled a high-powered rifle across the hood. The gun’s sight swept back and forth over the distant trees. A woman in a floral dress did a forward roll between two cars and came up firing a machine gun at the unseen enemy on the hillside.
“Run!” called Makoto.
Their driver ran to another car and tossed it beside the van, creating a shield of vehicles leading to the edge of the highway. Ghost, Cormac, and Kate dashed behind the upturned cars.
Crouching down, Makoto removed two small spheres from his pocket. He pulled a pin out from each of them and rolled the balls across the highway. They emitted a white smoke, covering the area around them in dense cloud.
“Go!” said the driver, pulling out a gun. “I’ll cover you!”
Makoto turned to his new recruits. “Head for the trees,” he said, pointing to the side of the motorway. “Quickly!”
They took off. Bullets peppered the upturned cars, but they reached the edge of the road unharmed.
There was no time to catch their breath. They heard a whistling noise as something flew across the sky, then a gigantic explosion. Kate was thrown to the ground. Behind her, a car burst into flames, sending debris in all directions and spewing thick black smoke into the sky.
“Come on!” yelled Makoto, pulling Kate to her feet. Bits of smoldering metal and rubber showered down around them.
Ghost accelerated, leaping over the highway barrier onto a grassy incline on the other side. He ran faster than he’d ever run before, his eyes firmly fixed on the clump of trees ahead. Behind him, he heard gunshots, explosions, and screams.
Somebody overtook him. All he saw was a blur of color streaking away from him at supersonic speed. It was only when he reached the woods that he realized who the mystery sprinter was: Cormac. And he wasn’t even sweating. They dashed behind a tree trunk.
Ghost’s breath was coming in gasps. “How did you do that?”
Beside them, Kate fell to her knees, also panting heavily. Peering back around the tree, Ghost saw Makoto following in his black Kat uniform.
As Makoto approached the trees, something hit him on the shoulder and sent him spinning to the ground. Ghost saw it as if in slow motion. The older man’s face crumpled in pain, and he fell.
“No!” Ghost ran out toward the body, his heart racing. Without Makoto, he felt sure the Kats would catch them. Was this the end of his new life, before it had even begun? But, as suddenly as he had fallen, Makoto sprang to his feet.
“Get back!” he cried, pushing Ghost away toward the trees.
As soon as they were under the canopy, Makoto began undoing his shirt.
“Have you been shot?” asked Ghost.
Makoto opened his shirt. Underneath, he wore a curious vest, which seemed to be made from mirrored sequins that reflected the colors of the surrounding forest. He dug his fingers into a small indentation in the sequins and plucked out a bullet.
Ghost leaned closer. “A bulletproof vest?”
Makoto didn’t answer, but tapped his chest and spoke into his hidden communication device. “All three charges have safely reached the rendezvous point.” He began buttoning up his shirt. “Keep enemy engaged. Prepare for attack from the air. Keep me updated.”
A massive explosion diverted Ghost’s attention, and through the trees he watched a fireball engulf the highway. It was immediately followed by the sound of choppers. They appeared in the sky like black wasps, each bearing the crossed-swords insignia of the Empire.
“Quick, follow me,” said Makoto. He ran uphill, through the trees.
Ghost helped Kate up off the ground. She looked terrified.
“Elvis has left the building,” he said, pointing in the direction Makoto had gone.
Kate attempted to smile before stumbling ahead. Ghost and Cormac followed.
�
��Scary, huh?” said Cormac.
Ghost raised his eyebrows. “I guess.”
Cormac looked at him as if he had two heads. But Ghost wasn’t scared. Yes, he’d been frightened, but he wouldn’t say he was scared. He rubbed his chest, feeling the scar beneath his shirt. Since his brother had died, nothing frightened him. In the favelas, fear was a weakness, and the weak didn’t survive.
Cormac followed the others out of the woods and upward through long grass. He’d always considered himself tough, but the shoot-out had really shaken him up. Although the attack had been meant for the Black Lotus, the highway was full of innocent people too. What had he gotten himself into?
Kate also seemed petrified. But not Ghost. He looked like he’d seen it all before.
Although he could still hear the battle behind him, Cormac became aware of a new sound: a mechanical whooshing, like a giant turbine.
Cresting the hill, he spotted a sleek black helicopter on the ground. He saw the Empire flag on its side, the pilot in a Kat uniform, and his belly flipped with fear.
“That’s a Kyatapira chopper!” he shouted, ducking down in the grass. Kate and Ghost instinctively copied.
Makoto shook his head. “This is one of ours.” He smiled and offered Cormac his hand. “Come on.”
Still recovering from his embarrassment, he followed the others under the whirring blades, their powerful beat almost taking his breath away. The wind whipped around him and the engines seemed to scream with impatience.
Makoto strapped the three kids into seats in the back, handed them headphones to block out the noise, and then sat in the front with the pilot. It was only then that Cormac realized the pilot was actually a boy his own age! Short and stocky, with a thick neck, the pilot never once glanced back at his new passengers, but operated the cockpit equipment as if he’d been doing it his whole life.
Cormac’s stomach lurched as they took off, rising rapidly into the sky. He stared out the window at the swarm of black helicopters hovering over the highway, which was now littered with the smoking remains of burning vehicles. He’d always known Kyatapira were ruthless, but he was gobsmacked that they’d attack a busy road full of innocent people. They must really hate the Black Lotus. He’d known so little about the organization when he agreed to join—he couldn’t have imagined how dangerous it would be. He wondered whether he’d made the right choice in accepting the little black flower. But then again, he’d had nothing to lose.
The Black Lotus Page 3
