The Tiger Flu

by Larissa Lai

  “He does not. That’s why I was in prison. Because he doesn’t want to kill me.”

  “You are a very, very silly girl. Your brother is your enemy. You could get rid of him and rule the whole of Saltwater Flats with me if you had the wits and nerve. And maybe Saltwater City and the quarantine rings beyond it too. Instead, you want to languish in the stinking prison your brother put you in and eat dead Grist sister fish every day? Must be because you’re a girl.”

  Rage and confusion grip her. She launches herself up over the heavy coffee table and straight at the figure behind the oak desk.

  Before she can get to him, the doors burst open. An armed guard of tiger men in dark red uniforms rush into the room, all clutching semi-automatic rifles from the time before. And on their heels, taller and more dignified than she remembers, who should enter the room but the young princeling himself, Kora Ko’s not-so-long-lost brother Godwin Austen “K2” Ko. Beside him, the pregnant Grist sister Calyx Kaki, looking mightily pleased with herself.

  “I see the proposition’s been made,” says K2.

  “What of it?” demands Marcus Traskin.

  “Back away, Kora,” K2 says.

  Sheepishly, Kora climbs down from her undignified post atop the oaken desk.

  “She turned me down,” Traskin says.

  “Kora, is this true?”

  “Of course it’s true!” Traskin shouts.

  Kora’s mind races. K2 could kill her if she doesn’t support him. Would he? She doesn’t recognize this vicious young man. Traskin has confirmed what she suspected, that she is next in line to inherit Jemini. Does she give it to K2 and live? Or does she die and let him take it?

  “It’s true,” she says.

  “It better be,” says K2. “And you, Marcus Traskin. I’ve caught you red-handed, trying to take Jemini from me. I suppose I’m my father’s son after all.” He raises his arm, then lowers it. The tiger men fire.

  Marcus Traskin is nothing but a bleeding heap of scale and muscle dripping over a fine oak desk.

  Kora screams and can’t stop screaming.

  “Get out of here,” K2 says. “You’re my sister, and you did not betray me. So go, and take that Gristie doctor with you, but get out of Saltwater Flats. Don’t ever come back. If you do, you’re a dead girl, do you get it? In setting you free, I release you from the bonds of family too. If I see you again, I’ll treat you as I would any hostile stranger.”

  Somehow, Kora finds the will to stop screaming. She nods. She makes for the door, and the Gristie doctor follows her.

  They flee the Pacific Pearl Parkade.

  WHAT A RELIEF IT IS TO BE OUT IN THE SUN AND SMOG AGAIN. THE AIR is dry, though. Monsoon season is clearly over. The lineup of people waiting for the upload to Chang is long when they depart the mouth of the Pacific Pearl Parkade. The people are thin and sick, much more so than the ones Kora saw the night of the revel. The sellers of red bean buns and chicken skewers have vanished, taken by the flu or the upload while Kora and Kirilow wasted away in prison. The woman from the UMK and her disposable clothing are gone. So is the seller of oolichan grease traded down from Haisla territory, the bicycle repairman, and the scale artists. The street is eerily quiet.

  Where there were N-lite sellers on the streets, now there are billboards the size of whole houses promising:

  Life after life!

  After life after!

  Silver-bright cans the size of a bed tipped vertical, new since their imprisonment, glide past them stocked with vial after vial of the intoxicating green vapour N-lite.

  They hurry along, half-afraid that K2 will change his mind and come after them, and half-horrified by the silence of the streets and the pushiness of the silver cans. From the windows of plague houses, no one peers surreptitiously through torn curtains anymore. A dry wind blows through the streets and seems to extinguish life as it goes.

  A group of police gather at the street corner. They wear the same dark red uniforms as the guard attached to K2 Ko. On the next street corner, there’s an even larger group of them.

  They walk in silence. Kora reaches for Kirilow’s hand, afraid the Gristie doctor will disappear. Kirilow must feel trepidation too. She clutches Kora’s new pink hand too tightly.

  The closer they get to the school, the more brooding Kora’s mood becomes. Will the girls still be there? How have their loyalties shifted in the past eighty-three days? She hasn’t been a very good Cordova girl. They’d have plenty of reasons to do her in. She thinks about the vision of Isabelle she saw on that strange LïFT trip. Kora needs to tell her that Marcus is dead. Although Kora didn’t kill Marcus with her own hands, he is dead. Is this good enough to keep Charlotte and Kai Wai safe? Kora’s liver aches with longing to see them again. She wonders what it would feel like to be uploaded. And more, what it would feel like to be uploaded imperfectly.

  The wind eddies in the courtyard, blowing dust and leaves in a circle as they reach the heavy double doors at the rear of the Cordova School.

  “I don’t like the police we saw at the corner,” says Kirilow. “Let’s get into the school and then get out quick as we can.”

  “Where will we go?”

  “To New Grist Village of course.”

  “I need to see Isabelle. To tell her that Marcus Traskin is dead and make sure she’s taking care of my mother and father. After that, I’ll go with you to New Grist Village. There’s nothing for me here anymore.”

  Kirilow smiles at her. “I’m glad you’ve finally come around.”

  Kora glances up at the doctor. It occurs to her for the first time that Kirilow is beautiful.

  Kora grasps the brass door handle and presses her new but perfectly functional thumb into the worn latch. They step into the silent rear foyer. Begin to ascend the narrow, creaking stairs to the gathering hall at the top. They are still in the stairwell when they hear the scurrying of feet above. There’s the sound of a person stumbling on a loose board, then a quick stomp as whoever it is stutters forward to regain balance.

  A split second later, there’s Velma, right up in Kora’s face.

  “Lady Kora! We thought you stole a catcoat, ran away, and died. But you’re back. I can’t believe it. There’s been a lot of changes around here lately, you won’t even recognize the place.”

  “Where is everyone?” says Kora, allowing herself at last to register the quiet.

  “I mean a lot of changes,” Velma says. “Won’t you come up and eat some roasted fish, Lady Kora? The doctor is welcome too, of course. Most of the girls have taken the LïFT and gone to the happy after life after. There’s only me, Tania, and Myra left now.”

  Kora feels a pang of nostalgia.

  “Is the wheelbarrow still here? We’d like to get going,” Kirilow says. “Do you know if the border to the second ring is still closed?”

  “I heard that it’s open, but only to a lucky few. Lots of people are dying or disappearing on that border. The UMK doesn’t want Cosmopolitan Earth to take in too many refugees from Saltwater Flats. They’ve sent in military police. You should stay here. It’s nice. And we have everything.”

  “My brother has taken over the Pacific Pearl Parkade,” Kora explains. “There’s more changes coming faster than you think.”

  “Myra and Tania have the truck,” says Velma. “They’re out foraging. They’ll be back before dark, and we can all have a good talk then. Why don’t you relax and eat some fish? Have a drink with me to remember the dead and the uploaded.”

  “No fish, thank you,” says Kirilow. “And there’s nothing to talk about. As soon as they’re back, we have to leave. I’m going to get my needles and tent and a few other things.” She makes a dash for the basement.

  Kora goes too, to get her bamboo-fibre dress.

  “Is there anything to eat besides fish?” asks Kora when she’s back.

  “Just fish,” says Velma. “I’ll get you one.”

  “No, tha—”

  But Velma has already disappeared into the kitchen.r />
  This is Kora’s chance to find a way to communicate with Isabelle. While Kirilow and Velma are occupied, she slips out the door and heads in the direction of the harbour.

  There’s a large group of red-uniformed police at the corner of Cordova and Main. It’s as though they’re waiting for something. Fear bolts through Kora’s gut. She wishes she still had her catcoat. She turns into the alley and heads toward the water.

  The little shrine is still there. Before she enters, she instinctively casts a glance south towards the old Woodward’s Building. Its neon W has gone dark. She ducks into the shrine. Kneels on the old cushion and prays to Our Mother for a communication. Then she rises and examines the sandbox. Could she be this lucky? There is a tendril scale, gas green as N-lite. She sticks it into the slot in her halo vacated by the red one that Tania took.

  She’s taken by a sense of wonder when the vision of Isabelle appears before her, even though she’s been half hoping for it and half expecting it. Isabelle’s lovely black hair wafts in the invisible breeze. But today’s Isabelle vision is one of fury and vengeance. This time, she’s not crying. Her eyes glower. Her whole body is tight with rage.

  “And so, this is how you betray me? And to think you were a little charity case my parents rescued from the ruins of Old China out of the goodness of their hearts. How dare you? Do you remember the first time we met, at my parents’ house in Shanghai, and how astonished you were that I was a real human being? Well, I am a real human being, with a real heart that can break, just like anyone else’s. When my parents adopted you, I thought of you as a real sister. And you? You are nothing but a dirty, traitorous user. Don’t think I won’t have my revenge. Thank goodness I’m still someone in this town and beyond, someone with resources, someone with people. You’ll get hit where you least expect it, I promise you that. Don’t imagine you’ll get away with everything you did to me, because you won’t.”

  Abruptly as it rose up, the furiously gesticulating figure disappears. The message was not even for her. Why did she imagine it would be? Although it’s none of Kora’s business, she itches with curiosity to know who Isabelle is talking to. One thing she is sure of, though. This shrine is not a temple to worship Isabelle but to sell her out, to spread gossip. Traskin is dead, but Isabelle’s humiliation continues. Although Kora resents Isabelle for kidnapping Charlotte and Wai, she still wishes the great inventor would not demean herself by recording these things.

  “Give me back my mother and father,” Kora says aloud to the statue of Isabelle on the shrine’s altar.

  The statue gazes benevolently down on her but says nothing.

  36

  FLEE

  KIRILOW GROUNDSEL // SALTWATER FLATS

  NODE: AUTUMN EQUINOX

  DAY: 8

  WHEN I’VE PACKED ALL MY NEEDLES, MY BEAUTIFUL TENT, AND WHAT remains of my herbs, powders, and insects, I come back upstairs into the late-afternoon light. It will be dark soon, and I really hope Myra and Tania get back before then. Velma has laid out a feast on the school’s best china. There are three plates, and atop each one sits a massive roasted fish, head still on, eyes cooked white. Each fish seems to grin, baring a mouthful of sharp, crisp teeth.

  “Is this all you’ve got?” I ask. Although I ate them every day in jail and learned to accept what they were, I cannot ever eat fish again.

  The little Cordova girl looks hurt. “Fixed it just for you, Doctor. Best fish, fresh fish. Just arrived today.”

  She doesn’t know what it is, and if it’s all she’s got, there’s no point telling her. “I know. I’m sorry. I would love some chard. Or a scrap of kale?”

  “Haven’t seen vegetables in weeks, Doctor Gristie. All the best foragers are gone now.” Her pale face looks so sad. “How about some tiger wine?” She rushes away to get it before I can say no.

  She’s back again pretty quick. Plonks the glass bottle on the table. It’s the shape of a rampant tiger, hideous grim. She produces a corkscrew from her pocket and, with a surprisingly expert hand, pops the bottle open.

  “I don’t drink the tiger,” I say.

  “Don’t insult me now,” Velma says, now getting really exasperated.

  “The rules of Our Mother are very strict.”

  She produces three lovely crystal tumblers salvaged or stolen from who knows where, pours the amber liquor into one and slides across to the next and then the next, without tilting the bottle back even a bit and without spilling a single drop.

  “One for Lady Kora,” she explains. “And one for you, Doctor Gristie.” She pushes one of the glasses in my direction. “Just try. It’s good for you, very fortifying and so delicious too! Here’s to the Cordova Dancing School for Girls as it was, and all the women and girls who lived here!” She lifts her tumbler and draws the wine into her gullet in a single gulp. “Aaahhh! So refreshing.”

  I feel like a bad guest. I pick up the glass. “To the Cordova School!” I toss it back. The wine is bitter and boozy, not at all pleasant. I try not to make a face. “When will Myra and Tania return?”

  “Eat some fish, please, Doctor Gristie. We Cordova girls are proud of our hospitality.” She’s irritated with me, but I just want to get out of here.

  I stare at the fish she’s pushed in front of me, and the fish stares back. “I just can’t, Velma. I’m sorry.”

  She grunts, visibly offended.

  Myra and Tania come crashing in. “Velma! Any food?” They get to the top of the stairs.

  “Doctor Gristie? We thought you died or went back to your village,” says Myra.

  “Food, great, I’m starving,” says Tania and dives into the fish that Velma made for Kora.

  Myra sits down and begins eating off Tania’s plate. I push mine over to her so she doesn’t have to do that.

  She says, “We gotta make a plan to get out of here. I mean, within the hour. News on the street is that K2 Ko has taken over the Pacific Pearl and killed Marcus Traskin. He’s forcibly uploading everyone who’s left in the flats. Wants to rebuild the city with people made by Jemini. Ha ha, kind of like you, Doctor Gristie, only newer and better. And under K2’s control.”

  “I know,” I say, though no one listens.

  “We’re already packed,” Velma says. “Just waiting for you to come back with the truck.”

  “Good,” says Tania, revealing the half-chewed fish in her mouth.

  “Have some fish, Doctor Kirilow, and let’s go,” Myra says, pushing the half-eaten creature back at me. Ugh. She pours two shots of tiger wine and nudges one my way. Downs hers.

  I don’t touch mine.

  “We’re waiting for Kora,” says Velma. “She’s packing.”

  “What does she have to pack?” Myra asks. “She doesn’t own anything.”

  “This is true,” Velma says. “She came to us with nothing but a head full of lice-infested scales and two dirty dresses. I’ll go look for her.”

  We hear her running through the building, checking all the offices and smaller rooms, the bathroom, the basement, my clinic, and Madame Dearborn’s catcoat lab. We hear her run up the basement steps and out the front door. I get up and look out the window. The streets are swarming with Pacific Pearl police. One of them grabs Velma and corrals her into a cordon where other unfortunate denizens are also trapped.

  “Velma!”

  The police march the whole cordon slowly in the direction of the parkade.

  “They’ve taken her!”

  Myra and Tania come to the window. “That stupid idiot,” Myra says. She rushes downstairs to rescue Velma. Tania rushes after her. “Don’t, Myra! They’ll take you too.”

  The back door slams. I hear the distinctive sound of Kora’s boots clomp down the main floor hall. “What are you doing?”

  “Velma ran out into the street. She was looking for you.” Myra’s voice.

  “We have to help her!” cries Kora.

  “Don’t go out there,” Tania says. “They will just take you to the Pacific Pearl, and that will be the end
of you. All our other sisters are already lost. Please don’t go!”

  “Go,” says Myra. “And we’ll be rid of you at last.”

  We hear gunshots.

  I say, “Come on, Velma’s already lost to us. Let’s just take the back door and go.”

  “No,” Kora says. Velma was her only real friend in this Mother-forsaken school. “I’ll go.”

  I make for the stairs. I feel heartsick for the little Cordova Dancing girl who tries so hard to be kind. But I can’t lose Kora.

  A hissing sound. My eyes sting. I turn and see we’ve left a window open. I close it quick before the hall can fill with tear gas. A ball of fire erupts from the centre of the cordon. Space opens in the ranks of the tiger guard as the ethanol bomb tears through police lines and cops move to dodge it. Their neat columns dissolve. A crowd appears from nowhere to confront them. There’s a stutter of machine gun fire, and a whole line of protesters falls, crying for their lovers and mothers. Then a return volley of eth bombs, and flames rip along the ground right in front of the school. One of them tears into the cordon where Velma is held. The screams I hear will never be heard in a world ruled by Our Mother. Blessed are the sheep, and blessed are the roses—I won’t be afraid. A searchlight comes on. I duck away from the window. A thin whistling fills the air. I don’t wait for the explosion. I tear out of the hall and down the stairs. We need to get out of here now.

  “It’s your fault,” Myra says to Kora as they close and lock the doors of the school for the last time. “We could have Velma, but we’re stuck with you. One day you’ll pay. I’ll make sure of it.”

  PART IV

  CASCADIA YEAR: 127 TAO (TIME AFTER OIL)

  UNITED MIDDLE KINGDOM CYCLE 80, YEAR 42 (WOOD SNAKE YEAR)

  GREGORIAN YEAR: 2145

  37

  CHECKPOINT

  KORA KO // SALTWATER FLATS AND COSMOPOLITAN EARTH COUNTRY

  NODE: AUTUMN EQUINOX

  DAY: 9

  “YOU HAVE TO HIDE IN THE BACK,” TANIA TELLS KORA AND KIRILOW as they board the Cordova School’s precious truck. “We can’t cross the border with you openly because both the CEC and the tiger police are culling Grist sisters.”