The Lives of Tao

by Wesley Chu

Paula put her hand on his arm. “You all right?”

  He didn’t answer. He kept on staring. This opened the way into a part of Tao’s past that he wasn’t ready to confront.

  “Do what you have to do, Roen. I’ll stand watch outside.”

  He glanced at her worried face once and then back at the door. Summoning what seemed an unnecessarily exorbitant amount of strength to finish turning the handle, he finally went inside and closed the door behind him.

  Roen stood in a barren room barely larger than his closet at home. There was a small table and chair against a wall and a bed on the far end. An old looking man in a common green hospital gown sat in a wheelchair facing the wall. This must be Gregory. He made no sign that he heard Roen enter. Roen stood at the door, unsure if he should announce himself.

  Moments passed; Gregory didn’t even twitch a finger. Roen had never seen a picture of him, but somehow felt an immediate kinship with him. Gregory had a faraway empty look as he stared forward. Roen grabbed the chair and scooted it closer to Gregory. The metal chair made a fingernail-to-chalkboard screeching noise as he dragged it along the tiles.

  “Hello, brother,” Tao whispered in a hushed tone through Roen as he sat down.

  Gregory didn’t respond.

  Roen leaned over and caressed the other man on his forehead. He repeated Tao’s words the best he could, though much of it was so painful for him to say. “I’m sorry I haven’t been able to visit as much as I liked. I see that the years haven’t been kind to you. You lost all your hair and you stopped working out.” He tried to chuckle as he spoke, but it came out as a sob. Gregory continued staring forward, still showing no signs of life. Roen bit his lips and continued. “You might not recognize me, but it’s Edward. Well, it’s not really Edward anymore, but it’s Tao. Can you hear me?”

  Gregory gave no answer. A bubbling despair began to boil from Roen’s stomach and stopped short at his throat. While the man sitting before him was technically not his brother, the emotions he felt from Tao nearly overwhelmed him. A tear escaped his eye, and he found himself shaking. This was the man he was supposed to kill today. He was a Prophus agent. And now that Gregory was no longer of use to them, they wanted Roen to kill him. One day in the future, it could very well be Roen sitting here in a plain room of a psychiatric ward.

  “I... I know what you’re thinking,” he managed. “I say I’m Tao, but I don’t look like Edward. Well, I have some bad news; Edward’s dead. I’m Tao’s new host. You know how it goes. The body dies, but the spirit lives on. Who would’ve thought that you’d live longer than Edward, huh? The world’s a crazy place. I’m Roen. I guess this makes us half-brothers in a way.”

  Roen couldn’t stand sitting there any longer. He stood up and exhaled. Grabbing Gregory’s hand, Roen started shaking it desperately for any signs of life. The reality of the second part of the mission came crashing down on him as hard as any punch from Lin or Sonya. The very thought of euthanizing Gregory, even in this state, made Roen nauseous.

  Tao sorted through his memories with Gregory and Edward. “Do you remember what happened when you felt Yol’s presence? You said it was like you just met your soul mate. Remember when I teased you about that? How I said now that you found your soul mate, you never had to leave the house again? I was proud when you joined the Prophus family. I hate what’s happened to you. That’s why I’m here, brother. The Prophus need Yol back badly. You need to wake up right now.”

  His earpiece crackled and Sonya’s voice came over their secured frequency. “Paula, Roen, we need to bring you in right away! Intelligence just reported that one of the Genjix satellites altered course last night and moved over Ireland. It’s on a trajectory toward Dublin. You’ve been compromised. Secure Gregory and take him to the delta spot. Switch cars before you bring him back.”

  Paula opened the door and ran in. “Did you get that, lad? Time’s up.”

  Roen opened his mouth, dumbstruck. His memories of the Genjix from the night club returned as if it were yesterday. He stared at her, unsure of what to do. Paula drew her pistol. “Take the wheelchair,” she commanded. “We’re getting out of here now.”

  “But I still need to check him out,” Roen protested. “They’ll think we’ve kidnapped him.”

  “No time. If the Genjix have tracked us, they can take out both Yol and Tao in one attempt. We can’t let that happen. Take Gregory to the back entrance. I’ll get the car and rendezvous with you there. If anyone stops you along your way, take them out.”

  Roen released the safety on his gun as Paula left the room. He put it in his jacket pocket. Nervously, he gripped the handle of the wheelchair and felt his heart racing. Roen tried to block out his fear as he pushed Gregory out the door and wheeled him down the hallway. The fact that Gregory’s life was in his hands gave him that extra amount of courage to focus on the task at hand.

  The back ramp can take you to the first floor. Do not take the elevator; it might be watched.

  “Was it the third or fourth door? I don’t remember. What if someone tries to stop me?”

  The security guards here are armed. Talk your way through or knock them unconscious. Do not draw unless they fire first.

  “Shouldn’t I shoot them before they get a chance to shoot me?”

  Guards will not shoot on sight. Genjix will.

  “Well, getting shot at first is a lousy way to find out.”

  Shooting an innocent guard is even worse. Turn right here and take the third door on your left. Take the ramp down. There should be a double door at the far end.

  Roen obeyed and pushed Gregory down the hall as fast as he could, almost tipping the wheelchair over a few times in his haste. He burst through the double doors, looking frantically for the car. They were in a large gravel lot with only a few parked cars, nowhere near enough cover. Paula was nowhere to be seen.

  Gritting his teeth, he rounded the corner and came face to face with a menacing-looking man in black. Roen immediately knew it must be a Genjix agent, not so much because the man dressed like he was a card-carrying member of the assassins’ guild, but because the man was pointing an assault rifle at his face.

  Roen blinked, frozen in surprise for a split second, and then dived to the side, tipping the wheelchair over and dragging Gregory down too. Bullets flew overhead, hitting the wall just behind them. Panicking, he tugged at his gun in his jacket, only to fumble as it came out. He stared in horror as the assassin lowered the rifle straight at his head.

  Cut the knee. Use the gravel. An image of a gladiator fight appeared in his head. Whoever he was at the time grabbed a handful of sand.

  Roen’s training kicked in every time Tao gave orders. He grabbed a fistful of gravel and threw it into the face of the Genjix agent. Then as the man was distracted, Roen kicked out and swept him at the ankle. The Genjix agent tumbled to the ground. Roen picked up his FN Five-seven and put two slugs into the man’s chest. Hands shaking, Roen let his pistol slip from his grasp and crawled over to the fallen man. His eyes were wide open and lifeless. Roen reeled backward in shock, falling onto his butt. He couldn’t tear his eyes from that blank dead stare.

  Get a hold of yourself, Roen!

  He stared at the small pool of blood expanding from the body, staining the gravel with red.

  Snap out of it! We have to get out of here.

  Roen put his hand on his forehead, shaking uncontrollably. Whatever shock he thought he would feel for his first kill was nothing compared to the avalanche of sudden remorse that seized him. Another man wearing the same black uniform appeared around the corner and pointed a rifle at him. Roen could do nothing but stare at the gun muzzle. The man mouthed something silently and gestured with his rifle in slow motion. Roen could not hear a thing. His eyes wandered between the man and the dead body lying before him.

  Listen to me! Listen to my voice!

  He couldn’t make out that incessant buzzing in his ear. What was that from? The man cautiously approached Roen, still waving the rifle threateni
ngly. Then his body suddenly stiffened and he slumped over. Paula hopped out of a car and ran to Roen. She knelt down and shook him.

  “Get up, Roen! Damn it, get up!” she yelled.

  He looked up at her with a puzzled expression. He could hear the words, but wasn’t quite sure what they meant. Paula leaned back, gave him one measured look, and then slapped him hard. Time sped up again.

  “What? What are you doing? You hit me!” He blinked.

  “I’m trying to keep your bloody arse alive. That is what I’m doing. You have your wits about you, man?” she snapped. “How’s Gregory? Are either of you injured?”

  “He’s... I don’t know.”

  In that moment of near death, he had forgotten about his ward. Some protector he turned out to be. He found Gregory face down on the gravel. Roen checked him for any injuries. He seemed unharmed. Then, Roen turned back to Paula just in time to see three more Genjix agents appear around the corner. Instinctively, Roen barreled into her and pushed her to safety. He felt the zing of bullets fly past overhead as they both crashed into the ground. He landed hard and had to reorient himself. Paula, on the other hand, had already taken out one of the Genjix with a headshot and was exchanging fire with the others.

  Careful. Marc is one of those three.

  Roen recognized the large dark man as the same Genjix who led the attack at the club. His threat advisory level jumped from red to stark terror. He had to keep it together for Paula and Gregory’s sakes. The Genjix agents spread out as Paula desperately tried to keep them at bay. She dove behind the driver’s side door and yelled, “Get in!”

  Still too frazzled to think, Roen dumbly did as he was told. He wrapped his arms around Gregory’s waist and dragged him toward the car as Paula laid down heavy suppression fire. The Genjix agents returned fire, kicking up the ground near Roen’s feet. Then just as Roen was about to throw Gregory into the back seat, a concussive explosion knocked him off his feet. Grimacing in pain, he checked his body for the gunshot wound, only to find none. Horrified, he looked over and saw blood dripping down Gregory’s chest. Roen hefted Gregory up and threw him in the car.

  “Let’s go!” he yelled as he jumped inside the back. Paula shot off one final burst before getting in and driving away. As they pulled away from the hospital, Roen looked into the rear mirror and saw Marc gesturing at two gray cars that pulled in next to him. He got in one and was soon giving chase.

  “What’s the situation?” she shouted as they sped off.

  He looked up, still a little in shock.

  Snap out of it. People are depending on you.

  “How many do we have behind us?” she yelled.

  He looked behind them. “One... no, two cars,” he answered.

  Tell her the type, number of agents, and armaments you see if possible. Give her as much information as you can.

  “Sorry, Tao.” He told her everything he saw before they turned the corner.

  “Paula, Roen, I need a status,” Sonya’s voice crackled over the comm. “Is the package secure?”

  “The package is secure, but damaged,” Paula confirmed. “We have two incoming: gray four-door sedans, eight agents, at least one Genjix.”

  “How badly damaged?”

  “Stomach wound. High possibility of bleeding out.”

  “Get to the delta and switch cars. Stephen and Dylan are already on their way to intercept. You are to proceed back to the nest immediately. Do not deviate.”

  “Roger.”

  Paula looked over at Roen. “Get some pressure on the wound.”

  “I’m sorry,” Roen mumbled as he pressed down on Gregory’s bloodstained shirt.

  “You did fine,” Paula exclaimed. “No time for apologies now.”

  “I didn’t mean to freeze up.”

  “Don’t worry about it.” She turned to look at him sympathetically. “It happens to the best of us. Now, keep a lookout in the back and be my eyes for the tails.”

  Paula weaved recklessly through traffic, but the two cars gained on them bit by bit. Every time Roen thought they had lost them, the gray sedans would appear around the corner. They inched closer and closer until they were only a few car lengths behind. Then suddenly, a white van came out from the corner of Roen’s eyes and rammed into the side of the lead gray sedan.

  “Dylan just initiated contact,” Sonya’s voice crackled over the comm. “Get the package back home safely.”

  As the second sedan swerved to avoid Dylan, a jeep came from behind and slammed into its rear. The gray sedan swung sideways and flipped into the air. “We got you covered, Paula,” Stephen’s voice popped up on the earpiece. “Get our boys home.”

  Paula sped away from the accident. They switched cars at the delta location and drove through several additional back streets before finally arriving at the safe house. Roen bolted for the bathroom and threw up. It was a good thing he hadn’t eaten much that morning. He hung over the toilet and closed his eyes, the images of Gregory and the assassin’s blank face haunting him.

  Roen sat on the tiled floor for a good twenty minutes before he felt well enough to come out. Whatever he thought he knew about being a secret agent was completely different than what it really was. One thing for sure... one damn thing for sure; whoever glamorized this in the movies had some serious issues.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  SAFE HOUSE

  Over the next forty years, Francisco Cisneros became the most powerful man in Spain. A cardinal and a regent, he wielded power second to only the pope. Chiyva’s rise coincided with his host. He was now one of the most powerful Genjix on the Council. Together, they hunted the Prophus and sowed chaos amongst the humans. Francisco lived until he was eighty-one. Chiyva had planned his succession carefully, and groomed an heir for his transition so work would continue uninterrupted for another generation. That is, until I got my revenge.

  The room was eerily quiet as the others stood by the windows and checked for signs of a possible attack. Dylan had returned before Paula and Roen and looked none the worse for wear except for a bruised cheek and a gash along his arm. Stephen came a bit later, favoring his left leg.

  Everyone geared up and manned a defensive perimeter inside the house. Dylan was up front, Sonya in the rear, and Stephen somewhere in the attic with what they referred to as a pulse automatic Gatling gun. Roen had no idea what that was, but it sounded ominous. It definitely was not in any of the manuals he read. He was too shaken up to care, though. Paula was bandaging Gregory’s wound. All Roen could do was sit in one of the chairs and stare as she frantically tried to staunch the bleeding.

  Now that he was officially a killer, he realized that he no longer wanted this life. “Get it together,” he muttered, rocking back and forth.

  They kept watch for another hour before Sonya walked into the room and laid her rifle on the table. “I think we’re clear. I don’t think they found the safe house. Intel has a satellite on the location anyway. They’ll keep us in the loop. We’re in too heavily populated of an area for them to make a daytime assault, anyway. We need to see to Gregory and make a decision.” She moved over to him, still staring blankly at the wall, and took his hand. “Hello, Gregory,” she said. “This is Baji. I’m Dania’s daughter, Sonya. It’s an honor to meet you. Yol, I can tell you’re in there. Can you take control and say anything?”

  Gregory remained expressionless. The others gathered around. Everyone laid a hand on him and closed their eyes. It reminded Roen of one of those healing prayer circles he attended in college church. No one ever got healed, but it was a good way for him to get close to some girls. Right now though, Roen screamed inside for Gregory or Yol or God or anyone to say anything. The silence was deafening.

  “If a Quasing can control us when we’re unconscious, doesn’t it mean that Yol’s not inside?” Roen said desperately, grasping at straws.

  Stephen, who had a hand on Gregory’s shoulder, shook his head. “Camr says he can feel Yol in there. There’s no doubt about that.”
/>   “Then it proves that Gregory’s still there. That’s why Yol can’t take control!”

  “I’m sorry, son,” Stephen said sadly. “Gregory’s brain damage is likely permanent and he’s no longer there. Quasing control their hosts through the brain functions. If the brain functions are gone, then there is no way to establish any sort of control.” He turned to Paula. “Are you ready?”

  She nodded solemnly.

  I am afraid he is right. When I first brought him to the hospital, Yol was able to perform basic rudimentary movements: shake his head, nod, move his lips. The doctors performed three surgeries and I had hoped he just needed time to recover. We have to assume the worst.

  Sonya handed him a small syringe. “I’m sorry. Time’s up.” Roen stared at it dumbly. “It’s up to you.” She patted him gently on the back. “It’ll take about ten minutes to take effect.”

  Roen removed the cap of the syringe and looked at the sharp needle. He pursed his lips and shook his head. This was not what he signed up for. Suddenly dizzy, he felt the need to sit down again. He placed the syringe on the table and looked down at Gregory. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

  I know how you feel, but I think our answer is clear. Gregory is never coming back. And if anyone is going to do it, it should be us.

  Fighting back tears, Roen picked up the syringe, and with shaking hands, inserted it into Gregory’s vein. For the next few minutes, nothing happened. He had half expected convulsions or thrashing or some violent reaction to whatever poison was in there. Then just as Roen began to think that it didn’t work, Gregory’s eyes widened and he inhaled sharply. His body relaxed and slumped over. His face now had the look of someone who was sleeping and finally at peace.

  Stephen and Dylan put their hands on Gregory’s forehead and murmured in unison, “Return to the Eternal Sea. Your soul will live always.”

  Behind them, Paula gasped and fell to her knees. Sonya and Roen turned and ran to her side. “Yol?” Sonya asked.

  Paula nodded, her eyes squeezed shut as she dry-heaved. She stayed on her knees for several moments as if trying to catch her breath. Finally, she looked up with watery eyes and whispered. “Gregory thanks you. Yol does too.”