by Sam Abraham
“Every schoolchild does, Professor,” she said, placing the small glass lattice on Yang’s desk. “It is a tale nearly as old as China itself. She was the wife of Houyi the Archer.”
“Indeed. There are several versions of the story,” Yang said. “In the one I like best, when ten suns rose, endangering the world, Huoyi the archer saved the people by shooting down nine, and the Queen Mother of the West gave him a potion of immortal life as a reward. But with new fame as the world’s savior, Huoyi preferred earth to Heaven, and gave the elixir to his wife, Chang’e, for safe keeping. One day, an evil student of Huoyi’s tried to steal the elixir. Unable to repel this student, Chang’e consulted the I Ching and decided that she should drink the Elixir of Life herself, rather than let it fall into the student’s ruthless hands. So Chang’e drank the tincture and flew to the moon, the part of Heaven closest to earth and to her love.”
“Only now,” Anmei said, “she’s come back, in the form of a teenage girl. Isn’t that right?”
Yang smiled at her. “Are you sure you won’t sit? I can have tea brought, if you like.”
“Thank you for the generous offer,” Anmei said, “but I must return home soon. I have come to inform you that twenty percent of our treasury is in escrow, as you specified.”
“How many engineers can you send me?” he said. “You have a technical college and hospitals.”
“What am I to tell them they are assisting with?” she said. “They will want to know.”
“Tell them it’s for the future of the Ghost Lands,” Yang said. “I’ll fill them in when they’re here.”
“Or don’t tell them shit,” Sun said, “but send them anyway.”
“I’ll want to ensure the safety of Wuhu’s people, of course,” Anmei said, ignoring the bandit.
“You can visit and watch their progress yourself,” the professor said, and the reflection on his glasses made it hard to see his eyes. “As you can see, it’s so rare we have civilized company.” Anmei smiled thinly, waiting, letting the silence between them grow viscous. Finally, Yang cleared his throat. “Also, we need you to transport cargo upriver to Wuhu as soon as possible.”
Anmei cocked her head. “What is the cargo? I will need to requisition appropriate watercraft.”
“Conductors,” Yang said, “for a power plant.”
Anmei looked at the professor, then at the bandit. “Give me a day, so I can ensure that my superiors consider our partnership with the Jade to be consummated,” she said, and smiled exactly right, warm yet distant. “And I hope you don’t mind if I learn more about these conductors.”
“Oh, you will,” Sun laughed. “They have been blessed by the Lady in the Moon herself.”
Chapter 26 - Da Chu (大畜)
Practice Chariot Driving
Unable to sleep, Li climbed to a lonely pagoda and watched the dawn. She had heard it said that the pagoda was the resting place of a righteous monk, whose inner peace calmed the fury of demons. Li contemplated the elusive nature of tranquility as she looked over the city of Wuhu, warming in the orange morning light. A barge came in on the Yangzi River, from the Holy Lake, stamped with the emblem of the River Syndicate. Jia Anmei had kept her word.
Uneasy, Li strolled around the pagoda until she had a view to the north. There, the tiny pseudocity of Ma’anshan was nestled between mountains and the river. And in between that pseudocity and the pagoda on which she stood sprawled her people.
The ranks of the Jade had swelled. They came from the hill country, and from the dried fields, and from Ghost Lands in the west. The new converts were baptized in the Yangzi, and Xie’s men tattooed their shoulders and gave them Communion so that they were infected with the virus. And though they were lowly farmers and beggars when they arrived, longshui made them feel like warriors. The virus transformed their cells, charging the mitochondria in their tissues, inserting new sequences into the energy-producing organelles to reconstruct their electron transport chains. And every man, woman and child who ate the body of Chang’e felt saved by the Lady in the Moon.
Captain Xie joined Li on the pagoda balcony. “The package from Dr. Yang has arrived,” he said, feeling lifted by her presence.
“Arm the brigades,” Li said, “We will bring our message to Ma’anshan by nightfall.”
Xie frowned, deeply troubled. “There is something else, Lady,” he said. “The main force of the River Syndicate is in the mountains northeast of Ma’anshan. Shen got word of it just this hour. It is said that they are running from us, seeking sanctuary in the Centrist stronghold of Nanjing.”
Li watched the dawn light play on the river. “Take the vanguard, Xie, and prepare for battle.”
Xie cleared his throat. “I am honored to, Lady,” he said, “But rather than marching on the enemy, might we solidify our hold on the Purified Territories, and bring revelation to the people peacefully? What need do we have for bloodshed when we have the word of Heaven?”
Li turned to Xie, and looked into his heart. “When we met you wanted nothing more than vengeance,” she said, taking his hand in hers. “Now you want peace?”
“I don’t mean to question you,” he said, pulling her into his arms. “I was lost when we met, unaware of the spirit within, of the messiah inside. I heard your words yet still I doubted, focused only on how to bring death to those who have plundered our land. Then something changed when we purified Tongling. You pulled me into a realm of endless light, of resplendent connection, and for that I owe you everything. If we keep chasing darkness, when will we have time for the spirit, to breathe with the breath of God?”
“I saw the light there too,” Li said, leaning into his embrace. “And ever since then, I have felt in my bones those who remain in bondage. Do they not also deserve healing?” she asked, slipping from his grasp. Xie had no answer as she descended from the pagoda.
Shen was waiting for her at the base of the hill, at the head of three columns of Jade warriors. Li rode to him on a horse that had been a gift from the people of Wuhu for her pleasure. She kicked the mare into a trot and rode along the front line, whooping and shrieking as she flew like the wind. A cheer went up as she passed from the thousands dressed in white. She saw that Shen had armed lancers in the rear platoons with metal poles, each two meters long with a glass dome at the top. Inside each glass tip was a ball of green pulp.
“Well, Laoshi,” Li said from atop her steed, “how fares our army?”
“More arrive every day,” Shen said. “Migrants from Ningxia, Hakka from Yunnan, farmers from Gansu. Many search for salvation.”
“And the old man?”
Shen frowned, nervous. “We must regroup in Ma’anshan and contact him from there.”
Li had never seen her teacher unnerved before. “I sense fear in you, Laoshi,” she said, smiling confidently. “There is no need for that as long as you are under my protection.”
The march to Ma’anshan was ten kilometers through a brown valley, fallow and arid. Trenches crisscrossed fields with rebar, near trash piles and broken concrete. Shen’s men stole stacks of demolition ordinance from a construction zone that had been abandoned and moved on quickly, eager to be rid of the eerie place. It was as if every man, bird and beast had fled from the army of Jade.
When they reached Ma’anshan, they found the streets abandoned. Soon the autumn day grew short and camp was set. Jade brigades forced their way into occuhives lining the river, taking them as barracks. Li left her horse to graze on reeds at the riverbank, and joined Shen on the balcony of a hotel overlooking a wide square. As the sun set, painting the oil in the Yangzi River an opalescent orange, they watched the righteous assemble in the courtyard below, waiting for the word of their prophet.
Li watched the horde worshipping her, and saw it more clearly than ever as proof of her divinity and the rightness of her mission. “When can we make contact with my father?” she asked Shen.
Shen looked grimly at Li. "I don't know. My brigade has reconnoitered the city’s water suppl
y, its hospitals and utilities," he said. "The power has been cut. The city’s transformers and cell towers have been sabotaged, and satellite reception is being jammed.”
“So un-jam it,” she snapped. “Must I think of everything myself?”
“We will need some of Yang’s people,” Shen said bitterly. “It will take two days, at least.”
“Make contact as soon as you can,” Li commanded. “It has been three months, and we are at the foot of Ma’anshan. The River Syndicate flees from our might. It is time for my father to reunite our family.”
Shen watched his student uneasily. She was behaving more unpredictably every day. “He is a very busy man, Xuesheng,” he said. “He will show himself in his own time.”
“He will come as the spirit of Chang’e ordains it,” she said, her eyes glazed, surrendering herself to the light of the Lady in the Moon inside of her. “In the time that it takes him to arrive, we will bring our message to the ancient capital of Nanjing.”
Shen was aghast. “Nanjing is no Ghost Land pseudocity,” he said. “It is a Centrist metropolis. If we invade it, they will scramble jets and mow us down. These were not your father's orders, and he would not approve.”
Li waved away his concern. “I am the one blessed with power, Captain Shen, not you. My father charged me with spreading truth across the Ghost Lands, but he is not the vessel of Chang’e. I have seen faces of the needy in Centrist megacities, they are just as worthy as those in the Ghost Lands. The dispossessed cry out for justice everywhere. What kind of prophet would I be if I abandoned those in need?”
Shen began to retort, but Li was not listening. She leaned out over the balcony and saw her warriors, a tide of thousands, the old and sick standing upright with the secrets that flowed in her blood. She held out her hands, and heard them chanting for her.
“Salvation is ours, oh children of jade and gold,” she crooned in a melodious soprano. An audiodrone circled above, amplifying every word. For her part, Li had been thinking the words ever since Shen had told her to absolve the decadence of Wuhu like Jonah begging for Nineveh.
“You are worthy to sit at my side, at the right hand of the Lord,” she said, “so that Chang’e, Elder Sister of Christ, will infuse you with the Holy Spirit. As it is written: ‘And when the Daughter of Man shall come in Her majesty, and all the angels with Her, then shall She sit upon the seat of majesty. Whosoever will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow me.’
“Now our cross is before us. We have been denied our homes by the tide, forced into dark cities for safety from a poisoned land. But God has given us free will so that we may choose to find ourselves worthy. He has led us to this place, abandoned by River Syndicate as they flee from our justice. Let us not look upon this cross from afar, faithful that it will be given to us at some future time. For faith - belief without experience - is a tool of false men. How can the frailty of belief compare to the breath of God? Let us know this cross, let us pick it up and hold it close. Let us be saved by the messiah inside of each of us, in this life. Let us choose to settle here, on the banks of the Yangzi, sublime in the power of our own earthly salvation.”
And they cheered and sang in the evening.
In the early predawn hours, after the revelry had faded, Xie went to the roof of the New Plaza hotel, the tallest tower on the Ma’anshan riverfront. He adjusted the bandage over his eye and lit a cigarette, watching the camp below in the humid September air. Bonfires were dying, the music fading as the Jade slept in occuhives throughout the pseudocity. For many, it was the most comfortable they had ever been. Some took hot showers for the first time. And though they ate nothing and drank only polluted water, they were without hunger, and felt safe in the protection of their prophet.
“Captain Xie, is that you?” came the voice of the man called Han, who was on watch. He smiled broadly at the One-Eyed Captain, for he knew of Xie’s place as the consort to the Lady in the Moon.
Xie nodded and took a strong drag. Nicotine made his head light as he let the smoke escape. “Any activity outside the perimeter?” he said, looking across the river.
“None, sir,” Han said as he made space for Xie. “All is quiet under Lady Li’s protection.” The two men watched the Yangzi tumble lazily towards the city of Nanjing. Bright towers of that ancient capital, a Centrist stronghold, bled light into the violet clouds.
The air bristled, and Xie remembered his tour on the Laotian border, in what seemed like a life lived so long ago. There was that itch he used to get when he knew enemy soldiers were hidden in the canopy. He tapped the bead in his ear and pulled up a holo. “Watch commander, Third Brigade,” he said, and flicked his cigarette off the roof as he listened to the sergeant’s report in his ear.
“Go home, Captain,” Han said, “Not all of us are so lucky to have the love of the Lady in the Moon. Truly, she is a bringer of miracles.” Then he looked out wistfully over the river. “I only hope that we may spread the word peacefully. The bloodshed in Tongling was unfortunate.”
Xie fixed his cyclopean gaze on the other, and said, “We are Jade, Han. We find grace in Chang’e. There is no room to doubt her.” Then he turned to look out over the pseudocity, its once-quaint red and white residences around Yushan Lake now in decay. The lake itself was drier than it had been in ages, the park surrounding it brown and barren. Bordering Yushan Lake to the northwest was a sprawling industrial park. On the other side of the pseudocity to the east, squat hills surrounded an abandoned quarry. But for a few Jade warriors patrolling the streets, the small downtown and fossilized occuhives were empty of life.
Xie looked beyond the industrial park, at the great Yangzi River, half as wide as Ma’anshan itself, which flowed northeast past the border between Anhui and Jiangsu provinces. “When did we last hear from our people at Huolizhen,” he said, pointing to the eastern foothills.
Han displayed the call log on a holo. “Midnight,” he said.
“They are late for their report,” Xie said, looking at the clock in the holo’s corner.
“Only by seven minutes.”
“Call them now,” Xie said.
Han did as he was told, opening a link to Huolizhen station. After a few beeps, the line went dead. Xie opened a link on a command line, a special channel Shen had configured for the Captains to reach each other. “Calling Lady Li,” he said. “Lady, there is trouble on our east flank. Lady Li, are you there?” He waited, but there was nothing. Xie pointed at Han and said, “Stay here. Wake up the sergeants and have them assemble their platoons. Tell them it is on my orders, and to listen for my command.” Then he rushed off the roof.
“Wait!” Han called, “what’s wrong?”
The elevator spit Xie in the lobby of the hotel. He ran past several Jade foot soldiers who saluted him, and climbed onto a hydrocycle that he had parked outside the glass doors. He sped south, to another hotel near Taibai Tower, where Li and Shen were quartered. A contingent of guards surrounding the entrance let him pass. They were busy smoking cigarettes and gambling with dice.
When the elevator deposited him in the penthouse, Xie scanned the panorama of the pseudocity through wide windows. “Lady, are you there?” he called, trying to steady the fear in his voice as he moved deeper into the suite. “There is trouble on our east flank. Lady?”
He crept into the master bedroom, quiet in shadow. Soon he found the wooden bedframe, running his fingers along the smooth edge. Only when his eyesight adjusted did he see whisky bottles on the nightstand, and Li’s slender form tossing and turning, her eyelids flitting, her naked body coated with a sheen of sweat and moonlight. It took Xie a moment to realize that the silver streaks crawling over her were little sparks of electricity running across her skin.
“Holy shit,” Xie whispered, before he thought better and crossed himself.
Li stirred. “Baotian,” she said as the sparklets dwindled, “I dreamt you and I were on the edge of the ocean, drifting.” Then she remembered. “What are you do
ing here?” she said, “You’re on watch.”
“I’m getting Shen,” Xie said. The bandage covered the only part of his face exposed to light, so she could not see his eyes. “You may want to get dressed. Your kingdom is being invaded.”
“That’s not possible,” she said as he slipped away. “The alarm hasn’t sounded!”
Shen’s suite was one floor down, just below the penthouse. The guards recognized Xie and let him into the dark quarters. He had not walked ten paces before a voice behind him said, “What are you doing in here, Captain?” It was Shen, dressed hastily, holding his pistol. “You better have a damn good reason for disturbing my beauty sleep.”
But Xie could not form a single word before the windows shattered. He and Shen scrambled into the hall as bullets the size of locusts perforated the suite. When the guns hissed quiet, Xie and Shen stole peeks around the doorpost. The suite’s exterior wall was gone, the furniture cut into pieces.
Outside, a flotilla of battledrones hovered in the sky.
“They’re coming from Huolizhen!” Xie cried.
Shen began barking. “Open channels to all officers! Assemble the lancers to the interior halls of the towers, but keep them off the roofs until I give the word. Get your brigade to our east flank.” Suddenly a great boom rattled the hotel. “We can’t stay here much longer.”
Xie nodded and said, “What about Lady Li? We must get her to safety.”
“Trust me,” Shen said, “she can take care of herself.”
Upon hearing gunfire, Li ran to the hotel roof in her nightgown, and looked out at war machines floating over Ma’anshan. In the distance she could hear infantry marching into the city, the sporadic clip of pulser blasts as fighting broke out in the streets. She felt nauseous. Her father had promised that they would reunite here. Now she could not help but wonder if he had led her into a trap.
Several drones identified her and soared closer. One spit out a stream of lead and Li flipped back into a handspring just clear of the metal rain. Then she sprinted for the edge, leaping out and grabbing the wing of a passing drone. Her grip bit into the metal and she pulled herself up. Hanging on as it flew over the riverfront, she punched into its steel skin and ripped it open, her hand emerging full of wires. The drone smoked and did a nosedive. Li let go of the limp machine and fell thirty feet into Yushan Lake before the drone crashed into a nearby tower in a ball of fire.
