by G R Matthews
It was an uneven race. Lijuan was too slow, her little legs flying as fast as she could, and Chunhua could not run at full speed. I saw the teenager cast a glance over her shoulder as I scrambled up to my feet. It was enough, combined with Lijuan’s weight, to cause her own feet to tangle themselves and she went sprawling. Both girls cried as they hit the floor and slid a little.
The man from Sio Sam Ong was right behind them and I was still gathering speed. Lijuan’s father, I assumed, and his men were further away than all of us. The security guards had conveniently left their positions and were nowhere to be seen. Typical. I gulped in air, trying to force the oxygen to my muscles, demanding they move faster.
I saw him come to a halt over the frightened girls. Chunhua was scrabbling backwards, her heels kicking and sliding off the floor as she tried, in her panic, to get some distance. She was dragging Lijuan with her, the little girl wailing and crying.
All the travellers looked the other way. I saw a man wrap an arm around his wife and corral his family in a different direction. A space formed around the girls and the man from Sio Sam Ong. Lijuan’s father shouted something.
A flash of silver from the man’s upraised hand. A knife, a blade, a something. I’d no idea where he’d got it from, maybe one of those shops along the exit route. I hadn’t noticed one that sold kitchen supplies or advertised knives for sale, but in tourist areas, no matter where you were, there was always one shop that sold swords. Fuck knows why. Who goes on a relaxing holiday and thinks one week into it that the one thing missing from their vacation is a sword? Maybe on a family holiday. I could empathise with that.
Blood thumped in my ears and anger fuelled the rapid beat of my heart. I couldn’t hear a thing. My vision tunnelled to the girls and the man with the upraised knife. Thought vanished and my lizard brain, my instinctive drives, took over. The knife began to descend; its edge catching the light from the overhead bulbs creating a rainbow which struck at my heart, my soul, and memories.
“Tyler,” I screamed out the name and jumped, leaped, arms stretched out as far as they would go, all the muscles in my legs giving up every erg of energy they could. The world slowed. Time crept forward. A second was a moment that became a year.
The knife changed course and I saw his balance shift, turning his body towards me. His head first, eyes meeting mine and locking us together across the space between. Arm rising, knife held reversed, its blade coming back up towards my body.
I hit him, just below his hips, on the downward arc of my leap. The knife passed by ribs, missing by an inch. My weight carried him forward. His legs, caught in the act of moving, had no purchase on the ground, no leverage and we went down in a heap of limbs.
The floor hurt. Striking it with an elbow and my forehead had not been the plan. I didn’t have a plan beyond saving the girls and I’d done that. Now I had to save myself. I let the rage come, let it eat its way up my throat and consume all conscious thought. Let it drive away all thought of safety and pain.
I rolled, coming to my feet and drove forward again. He was rising too, the knife swinging round towards me, its point seeking my flesh. I let it come, forcing myself inside its arc and throwing my weight forward into a punch towards his head. My fist connected first, a straight punch is faster and covers less distance than a roundhouse stab. Still his forearm hit my ribs and I felt the flat edge of the knife skid across my back.
He staggered and I followed, dropping my punching arm to control his knife hand, and surging forward with my forehead. Blood spattered across my face and I heard him grunt.
A moment later I was flying through the air. His body had twisted and his knife had risen past my block and caught me under the armpit. Up and over I went, striking the floor for the second time. My head was ringing and the lights above split into two, both copies moving in opposite directions.
“Kor-Lin,” I heard a high-pitched voice call out.
I tried to move, but every command I sent to my legs and arms was roundly ignored or diverted on its course.
“No no nonono.” I heard the words and they were mine. My mouth still worked. Small mercies.
And other voices joined it. Authoritative and demanding. Threatening in their calm directness. “Make another move and you will die.”
If it was aimed at me, it was a pointless order. I couldn’t move. Couldn’t get my limbs to coordinate though the lights were coming back into focus. That had to be a good sign. It wouldn’t have mattered anyway. That was an order I was going to ignore the very second my brain and body stopped arguing with each other and started to work together.
“You broke the agreement, Hai San,” said a voice, the man from Sio Sam Ong.
I heard running footsteps slow and come to a halt. Forcing my arms to obey my commands, figuring they were closer to my brain they were less likely to stage a rebellion, I propped myself up and let the world swim around for a second. There was a group of fuzzy figures over to the right and single fuzzy shape to the left. I couldn’t see the girls, but I also couldn’t get up to do anything about that.
“Tell Yunru,” one of the fuzzy figures to the right said, “that we will settle this matter between ourselves in the proper manner. To involve an outsider, a gwai lo, and two children before the proper forms are complete shames us both.”
“You shame us, Hai San,” the Sio Sam Ong thug said.
“Shame,” I croaked out. “You’re the one who tried to kill a child. How much of a coward does it take to do that?”
“Stay out of this,” both Hai San and the man from Sio Sam Ong said at the same time.
“Yunru is coming, Hai San.”
“Tell her I look forward to the meeting. Now go and prepare,” Hai San said. “We will observe the forms. If you stay here, I will have you killed.”
“Kow-Rin,” Lijuan’s voice called.
The fuzzy shape on the left came into focus, not perfect, but better than before. He was looking at me, blood leaking from his nose. “You and I will meet again.”
“Looking forward to it,” I said. “Shall I bring a bottle?”
He didn’t reply, just turned on his heel and stalked away.
“Chunhua,” Hai San said, “get Lijuan back home. We will see to your friend.”
Which didn’t sound good.
Chapter 37
“Mr Hayes,” Lijuan’s father began. “I would like to thank you for bringing my daughter back to me. However, I do not think I can.”
“That’s all right,” I began and my brain called a halt as it caught up to his words. “What do you mean? You didn’t want your daughter back? What kind of father are you? You know they were imprisoned in some sort of converted warehouse. The Sio Sam Ong were barely looking after them. They were surrounded by some not nice people and the food was awful too.”
“Mr Hayes, can I call you Corin?” He didn’t wait for my nod of agreement before carrying on. “Corin, my daughter would have been well treated. We got to speak once a week. She would have told me if anything was wrong. Chunhua too. It was part of the agreement.”
“Agreement?” I needed a drink. This was going way over my head and the last few days had shortened my stature by a good few inches at least. His retainer, butler, bodyguard or whatever the term was, had led us to two chairs separated by a small table. The chairs had their backs to the wall and we faced out into a courtyard area. The illusion of sunlight and space given by the panels inlaid in the ceiling had been impressive and I’d had a flash of vertigo as I’d walked across the stone tiled floor. We sat now on a raised veranda overlooking the impressive waste of space before us. My whole apartment plus a few of my neighbours would have fit, with a bit of a squash, into that space.
“Yes, Corin, an agreement. You have, if I may say so, stumbled into a situation that had been agreeable to all parties.” He lifted a small bell from the dark wood of the table and rang it once. A small, high pitched tinkle rather than a toll. It slid between the burbling that came from the small waterfall an
d pond on the edge of the courtyard.
From a side door another member of staff emerged carrying a tray which he placed on the table between us. It fit perfectly, not over hanging or allowing any of the wood below to show. Just as if it had been made for this very table and quite possibly had been. On the tray sat a dark red pot with a handle and a spout from which a thin trail of hazy steam rose. Two cups on wide saucers rested beside it. Unlike the ones I was used to, these had no handles and a lid decorated with raised concentric circles.
“We call these gaiwan,” he said, clearly reading my squint as puzzlement. “They are a traditional bowl from my ancestor’s country.”
“We are eating?” I could admit to being a little peckish right now.
“No, Corin,” he chuckled. “These are for the tea. It is customary for two men to share a cup of tea when they meet and my culture holds many of its customs very dear. Our history is important to us. I believe NOAH has groups which seek to go back to the surface? So does Da Long, but there are many of us. It is normal for us. We want to return to the old country, but only when it safe to do so. We think in terms of hundreds of years not five or ten.”
“We’re here,” I said. “Under the sea where it is safe. I don’t even want to think of what we’d face above the waves.”
“But we do and we know it isn’t safe. Not yet. So we hold onto our history dearly and would gladly pay a high price to protect it. Let me pour you some tea,” he said. He lifted the lid from my cup and I saw, in the bottom, a small pile of torn leaves. “We have a tea plantation in one of the cities closer to the surface. They have enough natural light to cultivate the bushes still. These bushes are descended from an ancient stock said to be first planted by one my most revered ancestors, Xi Jang. He was a musician who played for royalty.”
“What happened to him?” I asked as Lijuan’s father poured steaming hot water from the pot onto the leaves. A heady scent of green, the cleanest, freshest scent of the arboretum, rose from the cup.
“Our family history isn’t too clear, but it appears he got himself involved in the middle of a plot or war and had to retire to the hills where he started to cultivate tea. This is, as far as we can tell, his blend of tips and leaves.” He poured the water into his own cup and covered both with the lids.
Those leaves probably cost more than I’d make in a week and a Fish-Suit user, at least one in good standing, could earn a lot on some jobs. “If family is that important, why give your daughter to Yunru and the Sio Sam Ong?”
“For peace, Corin. The societies have always fought one another. Sometimes over trivial matters, sometimes not. At present, the Hai San and Sio Sam Ong have an opportunity to work together on a peaceful venture. My daughter and the sword were prices we were both willing to pay.”
My stomach fell. A sword? It wasn’t hard to guess which one and I knew that I didn’t have it. I knew Yunru didn’t have it and I was pretty sure I knew where it was. “A sword?”
“A special sword, Corin. One that has been part of our heritage for thousands of years. Its real name would mean little to you and explaining it is difficult. What it really boils down to, if you remove all the discussion of immortals and spirits from our mythology out of the way, is that it is an antique sword with a lot of symbolism for our people. It was thought lost in the flood, but the societies knew where it was. We were content to leave it safely alone until this opportunity arose. I would only trade something of equal worth to Lijuan. At the end of the deal my daughter and Chunhua would be returned and I would return the sword.”
“But something went wrong,” I said.
“You Corin. You went wrong. Where is the sword?” He didn’t ask the question with any threat and his hands were rock steady as he raised his bowl to his lips, left hand holding the saucer and bracing the bowl, right hand tipping the lid back so he could take a sip.
“I don’t know.” I tried to lift the saucer, bowl and lid as he had done, but it was impossible. I settled for taking the lid off and putting it to one side before drinking.
“It wasn’t on the ship?” Again, no accusation.
“No. The case was there, just as I was told it would be. I didn’t open it or take the sword and hide it away. Why would I? I’d never get it out of the city and going back to the wreck on my own is just stupid. A Fish-Suit isn’t sufficient to get me anywhere. I’d have needed a lot of help and I didn’t know anyone there. This was supposed to be a job where NOAH were reaching out to Da Long in the hope of building a better relationship.” I put my gaiwan down and put the lid back on. It seemed like the right thing to do.
“Then we have a problem,” he said.
“You think?”
“Yes, Corin. If they had brought the sword with them there was a chance for this to end peaceably. They cannot, so it will not.”
“Can’t you just talk it out?”
“They don’t have the sword to give in return for my daughter. You escaped their prison. They have been shamed on both counts and in Da Long shame is reason enough to kill.” His dark eyes were measuring. “Of course, I could just hand you over to them as recompense. Let them do as they willed and wanted. Make you atone for their guilt and shame.”
Oh, great.
Chapter 38
“Really?” I thought about upending the table and letting the still hot water distract him long enough for me to make a run for it. Somewhere. Absolutely no idea where, of course, but once I was running there was a chance.
“No, not really,” he said with a rueful smile. “I’ll be honest with you, Corin, I did consider it. However, to hand over a man who had protected my daughter and that of my closest friend, who had kept them safe and looked out for them on a perilous journey would bring shame on me. And I’ve told you already, shame is a killer in Da Long.”
“Good. The whole not handing me over thing, I mean, not the shame thing.” I took a gulp of the hot green tea, scalding my throat. I coughed and gasped out. “What now?”
“Now I get the girls to safety and prepare to meet Yunru,” he said.
“She is here?”
“Coming if not already in the city.” He drank his own tea and looked out over the courtyard.
“And what about me?”
“You? I think you have probably done enough, Corin. I thank you for bringing my daughter back unharmed, but what comes next is for the Hai San and Sio Sam Ong to decide upon.”
“You’re going to fight each other? You said shame brings death,” I said, not bothering to put the lid back on the cup this time.
“Someone is going to die, Corin. It is our way, our heritage and history.” He didn’t face me as he said these things.
“Lijuan needs a father, not a corpse,” I answered, rising from my chair. “Take it from me, losing someone you love is a pain you can do without.”
“I lost her mother,” he whispered, not moving from his chair. “I know the pain, Corin, and I have no wish to die and make Lijuan an orphan. Though Chunhua’s father would raise her as his own, it is not a thought I relish.”
“I can help,” I said, and heard the words at the same time he did. We were both a little surprised. In my head, the words I’d meant to say were ‘I want to go home’, they just decided to hide away while some other part of my brain took over. One day I am going to find that part of me and give it a thorough kicking.
“That is kind, Corin. Let me think on it. I would not shame you by turning your offer down.” He smiled and came to stand next to me. “We are safe for a time. There is a form to these things. First, Yunru and I must meet to discuss the problem. After that the killing will begin. I wish it were not so, but it is.” He shook his head and was silent for a moment. “I’ve arranged for Chunhua and a guard to give you a tour of our city. I doubt NOAH has anything quite like a Water City.”
“When will you meet?”
“Tomorrow, most likely. Tonight, I will meet with my friends and we will plan for that meeting and beyond,” he spoke as he stepped down o
nto the courtyard’s surface. “The old ways are important to us, Corin. Meet me in the morning. In fact, join Lijuan and me for breakfast. She hasn’t stopped talking about you since you brought her home.”
“Really?”
“Well,” he turned back to me, a smile on his face, “she did fall asleep just after she told us about the stars in one of the Dora episodes she watched on the journey.”
“I’m glad I made a good impression,” I answered. “Breakfast. Tomorrow. Have a good night.”
“I’ll send a man for you, Corin. Enjoy the tour.”
I watched him walk away. His suit was expensive, tailored, and looked as if the whole weight of the ocean was being carried on its shoulder pads. My tea was still hot so I sat back down and sipped it slowly. It was true that I didn’t want anything to happen to Lijuan or Chunhua, but I also couldn’t forget that the man was a crime boss and had seriously considered handing me over to the Sio Sam Ong. He would have done without a trace of guilt if it had suited him. It didn’t and I continued to live.
“Sir,” an accented voice said from beside me. Though, really, here it was my voice that was accented, not theirs. It is a funny thing that the world looks very different depending upon the place from which you observe it.
“Hello,” I said. It was one of those men from the airport. Dark suit, immaculate hair, and more muscles than any sane man had any right to.
“Miss Chunhua awaits you outside the courtyard.”
“She does?” It took a moment. “Thank you. I’ll be right there.” A thought. “Are you coming too?”
“Yes, Mr Hayes, though it will be Miss Chunhua that shows you around. There will be no trouble, but we will be there to ensure the young Miss feels secure when we are out in the city,” he said with a slight bow.
