Desperate Measures

by Michael Anderle

  Restaurants were about specific choices, known quantities with known reactions. She had once sent a glass of water back because she was annoyed by the number of ice cubes in it.

  “Not saying I disagree,” Jia offered. “But at the same time, it’s not a speech I expected to hear. I don’t disapprove, I’m just surprised.” She glanced at her drink before gesturing to her sister’s. “How is it?”

  In this situation, Jia was content to offer her sister as a sacrifice to the food gods.

  Mei lifted her glass to her lips and took a drink. She half-closed her eyes. “I don’t think this is alcohol, but it’s… I can’t explain it. It’s like it’s cycling through flavors, and they’re all delicious but different.”

  Jia took a sip of her drink. Earthy tones mixed a half-dozen subtle herbal flavors. Bitterness gave way to sweetness. Small droplets vaporized near the back of her mouth, tickling her throat and floating up to add a floral bouquet. The combination was odd at first, but soothing after a couple of seconds. She didn’t know if she would call it delicious, but she couldn’t say it wasn’t interesting.

  She didn’t claim to be a gourmand, but she could understand how people might be as interested in seeking engaging dining experiences as palette-pleasing ones. She felt a little undeserving of the exotic experience.

  “I don’t know what to make of this drink,” Jia explained after thinking it over for a couple more seconds. “It can’t be customized for me. I didn’t fill out the questionnaire.”

  “That’s part of the experience.” Mei licked her lips and took another drink. “Not knowing and trying to figure out how much of your enjoyment is because they’re right and how much of it is because you want them to be right, but I’m not sure it isn’t.”

  “Why would you say that?”

  “Because we’re far more alike than we are different. The Lin sisters, both strong-willed and focused on their goals. I can’t imagine if you filled out the questionnaire, it’d end up that different than mine.”

  Jia laughed. “Did you object to the Zitark being added to the will?”

  “Yes, I did,” Mei admitted.

  Jia nodded. “I would have, too.”

  “Because he has no legal standing in the UTC,” they explained in unison and chuckled.

  Jia couldn’t resist another large sip. “I still don’t understand. Since when does Mei Lin care about avant-garde? You once told me that ‘being disruptive and different for the sake of it is tantamount to being antisocial.’ This place might not be strange for the sake of being strange, but it’s different and potentially disruptive.”

  “I did say that.” Mei set her glass down. She’d polished off the entire drink. “And I was wrong. I regret saying it.”

  Jia stared wide-eyed at her sister. “You were wrong? You regret it? You are an alien clone of my sister, aren’t you?”

  “This place is a cheat in a sense.” Mei gestured at her empty glass. “Or it might be more proper to call it a training ground. That’s a better way of understanding why I like it.”

  “A training ground?” Jia echoed. “For what?”

  “For a new me.” Mei smiled warmly. “I’ve spent my entire life doing what I thought was best, or what our parents thought was best. I had a plan. I was going to keep climbing the ladder and find a compatible ambitious man. It all made perfect, logical sense. It was hard to object to.”

  Jia nodded slowly. “That sounds more like you rather than the alien clone. What’s next? You going to become a painter?”

  “I’m not planning on quitting my job or anything drastic.” Mei laughed and rubbed her arm, looking uncharacteristically nervous. The red in her cheeks spoke to the alcohol hitting her. “But things have changed. Become more complicated.”

  “What’s going on, Mei?” Jia swallowed. “Are you in some sort of trouble?”

  The last time Jia thought someone was targeting her family, she’d been mistaken, but it wasn’t impossible. The ruthless conspiracy had demonstrated no qualms about collateral victims.

  She tried to tell herself they knew it was a mistake. If they hurt her family, it’d only intensify her desire to hunt them down and destroy them, but that didn’t remove the fear.

  Mei laughed once more, this time louder. Jia winced, wondering if people would glare at them, but no one paid any attention. She realized she couldn’t hear anyone else and hadn’t since joining her sister. Each table was equipped with sound-blocking technology.

  Alina would love the place.

  “I’m not in any sort of trouble, little sister. Far, far from it.” Mei shook her head. “I’m going through a change.” She ran her finger around the rim of her glass. “It happened about a month ago. I was in a meeting at work. What it was about isn’t important. I kept thinking about my life and what I wanted from it as one of the men in the meeting droned, and then I thought about you.”

  “Me?” Jia’s brow furrowed. “What about me? You thought about going to a crazy place like this because of me?”

  Mei pursed her lips. “Yes, in a sense. I used to think we were the same. We both had something we wanted, and we went for it with all our passion, effort, and skill. What you wanted was different compared to Mother and me, but you sought out your police career and fought to keep it even as everyone, including your family, told you it was a bad idea.” Mei looked apologetic. “That’s another thing I regret, how much we pushed against it. We shouldn’t have only accepted your career after you became famous, and you were right about how much Neo SoCal needed good police officers.”

  “Thank you for saying that, but…” Jia pinched the bridge of her nose. “I don’t understand how we get from there to this restaurant.”

  “You grew and became the ultimate detective, and at the height of your success and fame, which you could have parlayed into rapid promotion to the top of the police force, you left it all behind. Quit.” Mei shrugged. “Not after decades, but a short time. It’s almost shocking when I think about how abruptly it happened.”

  “You don’t approve?” Jia frowned. “The family all seemed happy when I quit the force. You said so, at least.”

  “You do not understand. None of this is an accusation.” Mei shook her head. “It’s not for me to approve, but yes, I do. You quit after spectacular successes that left your influence on all of Neo SoCal. You helped stop murderers, terrorists, and horrible men making changelings. I thought, ‘What would happen if I quit my job tomorrow?’”

  “It’s not the same thing. We want different things from life. You’re adding to society in your own way.”

  “I know,” Mei replied softly. “It’s not like I’m ashamed of my job, but in that meeting, I had an epiphany. I wasn’t doing what I wanted. I was doing what I needed to. It’s not that it’s wrong or misguided, but I could tell that in ten or twenty years, I wouldn’t be happy. I decided I need to make changes now before I have a life filled with regrets.”

  “Oh, Mei, don’t say that.” Jia reached over and squeezed her sister’s hand. “You’re talking like you’re not still young.”

  “It’s not a huge crisis.” Mei managed a weak smile. “I’m in a good job, and I mostly like the people around me. Even my political rivals at work keep me sharp. I’m good at what I do, but I now understand that there’s more to life than climbing the corporate ladder. That’s why I want to make changes in ways that make me feel more alive.” She let out a quiet sigh and glanced around the restaurant. “That’s what this is about, not some grand switch in careers, but about appreciating life when I can.”

  “Okay, that makes sense,” Jia replied. “That’s what this place is? You are appreciating life by filling out a questionnaire and having a strange but intriguing dining experience?”

  “Exactly.” Mei’s smile grew brighter and more genuine. “I lack the willpower to go against the grain like you did, and I don’t think I need to do that to be happy. I just want to explore the possibilities of another Mei. I can do that with places like this, as w
ell as opening up my dating pool and trying more to experience life for what it is rather than everything being a calculation aimed at my status and future. I’ll admit Mother’s opinion worries me, but I don’t think she’ll care as long as I don’t throw my job away.” She pulled her hand away from Jia but kept her smile. “The truth is you’ve inspired me, little sister.”

  Jia’s cheeks heated. “I don’t know if being a police officer and then a private security contractor is worthy of inspiring someone.”

  “It’s not about your jobs. That’s what I was saying earlier. I used to look down on you, but I now understand you’re a much stronger woman than I’ll ever be. It’s about you living your truth, and it’s time I started living my truth.” Mei quieted as the waitress arrived with two wooden plates covered with a white cream-like substance and golden spoons. “And it’s time for dessert.”

  The waitress disappeared back into the darkness, as somber and silent as she had been before. Did they have to keep the Zitark in the will to get a happy waitress?

  “What about the initial courses?” Jia asked. “Ah, let me guess. Randomized course order. We can’t expect anything straightforward.”

  “That might be the case,” Mei mused. “I’m not sure. It could be this is the perfect course order for me.” She picked up her spoon. “I’m proud to be your sister, Jia. I might not have always understood you, but you’ve always lived your truth, and I want you to keep doing that.”

  Jia picked up her own spoon, smiling. The objections of her family seemed distant now. When she thought about it, her mother and father were also happier. It was what she’d always wanted—to be able to live her life with the love and support of her family, rather than being a source of stress for them.

  Because of that, they could never know the truth. They might be proud, but there was no way they wouldn’t be scared of a job involving fighting a lethal, dangerous conspiracy.

  Chapter Ten

  July 14, 2230, Neo Southern California Metroplex, En Route to the Apartment of Erik Blackwell

  “It’s just weird,” Jia finished after a lengthy recap of her dinner the night before with her sister. Her last statement reflected her concern about her sister’s new life manifesto.

  Erik suspected she was feeling him out for the restaurant, but he’d tried to make it clear he wasn’t interested in going by noting he liked being able to choose what he ate. Ironically, that made him pickier than Mei Lin. He was comfortable with that.

  Jia had steered the conversation back to her sister’s conversion to a new outlook on life, and it was hard for Erik not to think of his own recently repaired relationship with his brother. Even in the best of circumstances, family could be difficult, and Jia and Erik weren’t living normal lives by any means.

  “Weird isn’t the same thing as bad,” he offered. “From what you said, you seem to like the direction she’s heading. Are you saying you want her to be like she used to be?”

  “No, I’m not suggesting that.” Jia laid her head back. “It’s not a bad thing, but all these changes have got me confused. To be honest, I think it’s about me being selfish.”

  “How are you selfish?” Erik loosened his grip on the control yoke of the MX 60.

  Of all the flaws one might attribute to Jia, he had a hard time thinking of her as selfish. He understood why her family had perceived her that way, but dedicating one’s life to a higher cause could not be considered selfish.

  In his view, they’d been the selfish ones, and it sounded like Mei now understood that.

  “I think I got too used to being the family rebel,” Jia replied, “and now that everyone’s on board, it’s like I have all this pent-up energy to fight and nowhere to direct it. I developed all these instincts to deal with them, and now I’m frustrated I can’t trust those instincts.” She put her hands in her lap. “It’s petty. I admit it.”

  “I believe I understand. I still have an urge to punch my brother when he’s being a smart-ass. It’s all about redirection.”

  She looked over. “Redirection?”

  “Yeah.” Erik grinned ferally. “Your job involves hunting an evil conspiracy. That’s a nice target to aim all that frustration at.”

  “True.” Jia smiled. “And not to knock the restaurant. The food was interesting, good even. I don’t think it’s a bad place.”

  He’d obviously not been clear enough.

  “I think I’ll stick to the places where I get to pick my meal,” Erik replied. “I’m not ready for an avant-garde food experience, and I think you’d get bitchy waiters if I went. I’m not saying a place like that shouldn’t exist, but not every man is made for every restaurant.”

  Jia looked disappointed. “I’ll drag you there someday, but I get it. You might not be uptight like Mei, but you’ve got your own things you prefer. I’m always surprised by that.”

  Erik raised a brow. “You are?”

  “Yes.” Jia pointed at the roof. “It’s not like you lived in the same small city your entire life. You’ve traveled the width and breadth of the UTC.”

  “Sure, and most of that involved being on Fleet ships, in newer domes, or in the field eating rations. The frontier is a place about survival, and with limited supplies, the printers aren’t as versatile as you might think.” Erik shrugged. “Or I might be wired to like what I like.”

  Jia sighed. “Not an avant-garde dynamic restaurant experience?”

  Erik nodded. “Probably.”

  “As lovely as this discussion about shoving nutrients into your face is,” Emma interrupted, “you need to change course immediately. Something’s come up. Unless you want me to take over?”

  “No,” Erik answered. “I’ll keep flying.”

  A new nav beacon showed up on his console display. The most immediate change required was a significant decrease in altitude, big enough to let him know their general destination.

  Erik frowned. “Why do we need to go to the Shadow Zone? If it’s a cop incident, we can let the locals handle it.”

  “It has nothing to do with the local police,” Emma replied. “We need to go because I received a coded message from Agent Koval requesting your immediate presence there. She sent the meeting request and the coordinates, but nothing else. Given the terse nature of the message and her explicit request for immediate arrival, there might be some sort of danger.”

  Jia looked at her feet. “I suppose it’s not like we need to stop off to arm up. We should head there and go in immediately. If she’s in the middle of a fight, it might come down to seconds.”

  “If she got her ass captured or killed, that’d be inconvenient,” Erik muttered. “She might be strange with her mythology obsession, but she’s a damned good ghost.”

  “Do you think that’s even possible?” Jia asked. “Her being captured or killed? She’s been a ghost for longer than I’ve been alive.”

  “Why not?” Erik dropped the MX 60, passing through several vertical lanes in rapid succession. “I know better than anyone that you can always have a shit day in the field, and she does fieldwork.” A car screamed past them. He could see the driver cursing up a storm. “Which means she could end up with a bullet in the brain or captured. If the conspiracy was smart, they wouldn’t kill her. It doesn’t matter how tough someone is, you can always break them, especially if you don’t care how you do it. But I also have the feeling that if it came down to it, Alina would make sure she wasn’t taken alive.”

  Jia frowned. “Let’s hurry up and make sure it doesn’t come to that.”

  Erik slowed his MX six minutes later as he closed on a sprawling abandoned commercial complex in the Shadow Zone. It encompassed different large buildings. They might be small compared to the massive towers of Neo SoCal, but there was something about buildings closer to the ground to give them a greater sense of scale.

  Emma’s scans suggested nothing out of the ordinary, and her drones patrolled the area. On the edge of the complex, she uncovered a small group of indigents gathering fo
r a meal, but there was no one with decent firepower or any unusual readings that suggested a battle.

  “I’m not liking this,” Jia admitted. “We might be too late.”

  “It’s not like they could jump out of here,” Erik insisted. “If we’re too late to help her, we’re not too late to avenge her.” He sucked in a breath. “Emma, any more messages?”

  “No,” Emma replied. “The coordinates place the meeting point inside one of the buildings. None of my drones are detecting any fleeing vehicles in the area. There don’t appear to be any local cameras I can access.”

  Jia reached under her feet to grab the TR-7. After Erik landed the Taxútnta, she handed the weapon to him along with some magazines before grabbing a rifle and magazines from a hidden compartment in the back, her face set like granite.

  Erik stepped out of the flitter. “No such thing as being too careful. She might have decided to be dramatic.”

  “No such thing as paranoia in our line of work.” Jia closed her door and raised her rifle. “It might be that she’s being dramatic, or it might be that the conspiracy is hoping to take down several troublemakers today.”

  Erik selected four-barrel mode. “Then I hope they brought an entire army with them. If they took down Alina, she would have made them pay. I know that.”

  They proceeded through the open door, following Emma’s nav marker, a couple of her smaller drones flanking them. Vast emptiness filled the large initial room, broken up by occasional piles of debris from the collapsing ceiling and the scuttle of rats and roaches in darkened corners. There were no bodies or fresh blood, though dark stains near a hall connecting to another large room pointed to a past tragedy.

  “Multiple contacts up ahead,” Emma noted. “I see Agent Koval, and she doesn’t appear to be in distress.”

  They picked up their pace. A quarter of the way down the corridor, they could make out a distant human form with a cyan tinge on the top: Alina in her uncommon non-disguised form. A dark-skinned man stood next to her. They didn’t move or adjust their positions. Quick magnification confirmed the familiar face of Colonel Adeyemi.