by Sam Abraham
“And if I kill you?” Li threatened in her desperation. “How will the Jade listen to you then?”
“Do it!” Xie said, spreading his arms wide. “Rip my head off! Let us see whether God allows demons to destroy His true believers.”
But Li knew the Jade would never follow her if they learned she had killed their Captain, and she could not lose both Shen and Xie in the same day. The truth was that she still loved him. Her heart ashen, the grotesque joke of her life was naked before her. “Why are you doing this?” she cried.
“I came to you seeking revenge,” Xie said with a savage grin. “You tried to seduce me with false miracles, but you failed. It’s time the Jade destroy the Great Evil and secure our place at God’s table,” he said, his obsidian eye seeing the Western Hills. “You should know that Centrist protocol is to shut down any city showing signs of unrest. The airports, the locks and bridges, everything. So, if you will not lead us to Heaven, leave while you can and let us not see your face again. We have had enough of your lies.”
And seeing that neither words nor deeds could break the wall of hate that Xie had built around his heart, Li gathered her rags around her and left.
Chapter 52 – Gen (艮)
The Mountain
“Lao Jinglai? This is Eli Warner, from ORS. Thank you for speaking with me, sir.”
“The pleasure is mine,” the holo of the young man said, straightening the image of his tie. “I only wish that we had spoken before, instead of having that fool Yang be our intermediary. It might have saved us from our current predicament. But no matter, you say you have a proposition for me.”
“Yes, Sir,” Eli said, walking through an abandoned shipyard near the southern seawall, pulling his coat around him for warmth as he spoke to the holo that only he could see. The holobeads had arrived for him suddenly at Zoe’s place the previous evening, with a note from Lao Jinglai requesting an audience. Eli hadn’t told anyone where he was staying, and the fact that Lao had found him so easily disturbed him. But his concern was outweighed by the revelation that both sides wanted the deal to proceed.
“Our arrangement for Yang and the hybrid has fallen through,” Eli stated, opening the negotiation frankly, “but Yang’s postdoc has given me all her data. If Dr. Chou comes with me, I can make the case to ORS that we can still acquire the relevant intellectual property. However, without the hybrid, we have no choice but to lower the price. I assure you it will be fair given the changing terms.”
“The terms need not change,” the hologram said. Eli was about to interject when Lao’s image held up his hand. “You do not want to be saddled with the Li girl. She is old technology, breaking down. But there is another. Cell Line Three is a third generation longshui host. It has the same genome as Li, with more advanced epigenetics. You won’t need a postdoc, Mr. Warner, when you have your hybrid.”
“I appreciate the offer,” Eli began, “but how can we bring this hybrid to ORS? The Ti…um, the Mayor of Shanghai knows about us. Yang has gone to work for him. There will be security notices for anyone matching Li’s genome at all airports and every gate in the seawall.”
“Leave that to me,” Lao’s image said with a smirk. “When Cell Line Three makes contact with you, it will explain everything. That is my final offer. I have sent you access credentials to a private server. When you upload all of Professor Yang’s longshui code, I will know we have an arrangement.” The image of Lao evaporated. Eli stood in the late January cold, lit a cigarette to calm his nerves, and decided that he would be glad when the whole sordid deal was done.
***
Baiyue stalked Eli easily as he walked through New Pudong, keeping out of his sight. Morning bloomed around them, and the city came alive. Holos danced across the superscrapers, blessing the city with good cheer for the coming Spring Festival.
Weaving through people, she tailed him as he left a grocery complex through an art installation of purple umbrellas, passed under an elevated road humming with hydrocars, and ducked down into the metro. She followed him at a distance, hopping on the same train out to the Pudong Innovation Dome.
He emerged at the eastern edge of the island, where everything revolved around the Spaceline. Here, where the seawall encircled the former coast, the land had gone to the labs of the Mayor’s innovation center. Now it was a nexus of physicists, engineers and mathematicians ensuring that the Spaceline orbited the planet flawlessly, day in and day out. Shops nestled in the campus were hung with paper lanterns and red ribbons, crimson holos wishing a prosperous Year of the Tiger.
The needle of the Mountain towered over all of it, the giant carbon skeleton of the space elevator base rising five kilometers to its blooming summit.
Eli dodged people as they readied for the coming Lunar New Year. Walkways were packed with vendors selling whole fish and incense to the scientists who lived near the manmade Mountain. Tomorrow was the eve of the Spring Festival, when the devoted would go to temples. Outside the domes, in toxic air, small piles of fake money and joss sticks burned on the streets as people remembered their ancestors.
Baiyue shadowed Eli through the Innovation Dome’s mall, loitering as Eli stopped in to buy some nian gao - New Year cake. There she realized that someone else was tracking him too. As Eli ducked down an avenue into the Spaceline campus, another man followed. Baiyue had seen him the other day as well, in Lujiazui and the former French Concession. The frosted tips of his spiky hairdo were hard to miss.
Oblivious to his tails, Eli headed to a familiar occuhive. He sighed as he flashed Zoe’s badge and passed sliding glass doors into the lobby, its whitewashed walls plastered with cheap red tapestries. He mused that it was shaping up to be a meager Spring Festival. For one who had become accustomed to Champagne and penthouses, he hoped this new grocery-laden life was not an omen of days to come.
Eli juggled the grocery bag as the sluggish lift reached Zoe’s floor. At her door, he swiped a fob and the door beeped, swinging in. Zoe’s studio was barely big enough for a double bed, a tiny stovetop and a maker. A slim desk was empty save for a holodisc and a bawdy antique lamp that Eli would have scrapped if it hadn’t been an heirloom. A single slim window had a view of laundry lines.
“I’m back,” Eli said, seeing the bathroom filling with steam. He went about placing the groceries in Zoe’s small refrigerator and the box of nian gao on the window sill. Most of the food they could print in the maker, but there was something about vegetables that still tasted better fresh.
He looked at the bathroom door again, annoyed at Zoe’s silence. Why did she always take so long in there? “Hey, do you mind if I take a piss?” More silence. Had he done something wrong? He wondered what was keeping her, as he pushed open the door and walked into the steam.
The shower had been running for so long that the floor was covered in water. Zoe was in her underwear on the toilet, wrapped in plastic tape that pinned her arms behind her, bound her ankles to the base of the bowl, gagged her jaw. Her eyes were wide with fear.
“Oh shit,” Eli said, turning just in time to see the man with shining eyes punch him in the nose. He stumbled back, slipping on the wet tile and stumbling into the shower. Eli tried to right himself as hot water doused his face, but the cyborg put a boot on his chest pushed him down.
“You shouldn’t have called Lao,” Ginger said, and pulled a pulser from his jacket. Unceremoniously he aimed the piece and fired. But the bathroom door slammed into his back just as he pulled the trigger, and the gunshot tore a hole in the tile, barely missing Eli’s head.
Ginger whirled around but the door hung open, and the studio beyond looked empty.
“Don’t fucking move,” he growled. “Do anything stupid and I’ll make her watch as I skin you.”
Ginger slowly stepped back into the studio bedroom. There was the bed, still rumpled and unmade. The window was still ajar, the box of nian gao on the sill and laundry flapping in the breeze.
Then he saw a wiry teenager perched atop the fridge.
&
nbsp; The girl launched herself at the cyborg, grabbing his gun. Ginger fell back and fired, blasting the walls and shattering the window. Then a white-hot charge flared from the girl’s fingers and she crushed the gun’s barrel and all the bones in Ginger’s right hand.
The cyborg growled in pain and slugged her with a left hook. The girl flew through the front door, turning it into splinters. Ginger was on her in a blur. His large hands curled around her jugular as he straddled her to pin her legs to the floor. Her eyes were closing as Eli stumbled out of the bathroom.
Suddenly it all clicked in Eli’s fuzzy head. She was his contact, the one who looked exactly like Li Aizhu. The one Lao wanted to salvage the deal with. And that son of a bot was killing her.
Desperately Eli looked around for a weapon, settling for the brass lamp from the desk and smashing it into Ginger’s ear. The cyborg fell back, but his daze lasted only a moment. Then Ginger turned on Eli with bloodlust in his shining eyes and slapped him hard with the back of his hand. Eli crumpled to the floor. The cyborg stood over him, drew a knife and said, “I’m really going to enjoy this.”
“Me too,” came a voice from behind them. The slender girl was on her feet, the air around her glowing. She opened the doors in her mind, and a thick beam of raw electricity exploded from her arms into the cyborg, cleaving the air with thunder.
And then it dissipated, electricity crackling down the copper rivets covering Ginger’s skin from his clavicles down to his toes.
Baiyue froze, exhausted, as Ginger shook off the pain and laughed.
The cyborg moved to strike, but Baiyue blurred forward with a punch that would have split concrete. It dented his cybernetic torso, knocking the wind from him. Ginger tried to pull her into a choke hold, slipping his arm around her neck. But she twisted with his momentum, gripping a hunk of his abdominal plating, and hurled him crashing through the window.
Eli held his aching head and looked at the hole where the wall had been. He stumbled to the edge and peered down fifteen stories onto the science park below. People were gathering around the mangled corpse that used to be a man with shining eyes.
He heard a squeal and turned to help Zoe from her bonds. “Cell Line Three?” Eli asked as he brought his shivering lover out to the girl who had saved them. “Did Lao send you?”
The girl studied his face and decided that his gold-streaked curls were deliciously unruly. But there was something else. How hopeless he looked. How alone. She gave him coy smirk and said, “You were looking for someone else? Li Aizhu, perhaps?”
Eli laughed nervously and said, “No games right now, ok? You are Cell Line Three, right?”
“My name is Baiyue,” she said. “Don’t forget it.”
“What the fuck is this?” Zoe said, still shaky.
“I’ll explain everything,” he said, “but the cops are going to be here soon.” He turned to the girl who had saved their lives. “I hope you have a plan.”
Baiyue looked at Zoe askance. “Father says you delivered your end of the bargain. Come with me,” she said, and left the trashed apartment.
“Eli, talk to me,” Zoe snapped. “Why the fuck was the leader of that cult in my home?”
“That’s not Li Aizhu,” Eli said, pocketing his holobeads and pulling Zoe after him. When she resisted, he turned to her and said, “Do you trust me?” She saw his fear and nodded.
They ran after Baiyue, mere blocks away when they heard sirens. But just ahead was the spire of the Mountain, its jutting ziggurat upstaging the sky. They were close enough to see the huge lifts that ran up and down the needle, hauling space rock and supplies to and from the summit.
Zoe turned once to look at the smoking hole that used to be her home. Eli put a reassuring hand on her back. “It’s all part of the plan,” he said. “I’m sorry about your lamp.”
“It was junk anyway,” Zoe said, putting on a brave face. “Guess I’ll show you Texas ahead of schedule?”
Eli forced a laugh and said, “Yeah, and I won’t even have to sleep on your couch.” He took her hand as they caught up with the strange girl ahead. Eli couldn’t keep from smiling as he stepped lightly, feeling on the verge of auspicious beginnings.
Chapter 53 – Jian (漸)
Development
After months of eating meager bits of rice, drinking stinking sulfur water and sleeping on the ground, Han decided it was time to leave the Jade. Not that mean living was so distasteful to him. After all, he had come in search of a simpler existence, closer to the spirit. It was the endless talk of the Great Evil of Shanghai that finally turned him away. All discussion of the messiah inside, of the forgiveness granted those who walked a righteous path, had been replaced with the promise of the end of days. It sounded hollow to Han, though he could not tell if the dogma was any thinner than it had always been or if he had finally seen too much to believe it anymore.
So, in the early hours before dawn, Han passed by the Jade warriors guarding St. Theresa’s and made his way into the dark streets of Puxi. Han had always been a trusting boy, for he had come from a home that could afford honesty. It never occurred to him that he might be followed.
Once out of sight of the church, Han walked north along quiet streets, pensive as dawn crept across asphalt and glass and blushed the world with lavender. He had strolled these streets many times growing up, but now the multitude of exhibitionist malls were empty shells, the towers mere shadows. Only the light was real.
He felt strong, his muscles fueled by longshui, as he took the metro north to Shiguang Road and walked along a winding creek into a neighborhood near the northern end of the Huangpu River. As Han returned to the occuhive he had run from, he remembered the stories his father taught him. How his grandfather had come to Shanghai as a boy, over a hundred years ago. How with a small savings from selling land in the west, they bought land in Pudong before it had sprouted superscrapers. Invest in real estate! Markets are rigged but buildings don’t lie, Han remembered his father saying. Now the idea of private property seemed strange.
Reluctantly, Han punched in the combination to the building’s security door and took the elevator to his father’s flat. He pulled a key fob from his pocket and stared at it, tracing the edge between his fingers. He wondered at how much that key had been through, and how lucky he was to have had it in the first place. A wave of regret washed over him as he swiped it and found that the door still swung in. His father had not changed the locks.
In the foyer Han passed a mirror, and saw himself for the first time since running away. He barely recognized the man looking back, his beard scraggly and hair wild, his bleached suit filthy and torn. Even his eyes seemed different. They were brighter, Han thought.
He turned to the kitchen and found a slight man in a dark robe, fiddling with dishes. Seconds dragged as Han fought the urge to sneak away as quietly as he had come, to leave this house and everything it stood for. But he thought of the light in the city at morning, of the waters covering the earth, and listened to his heart.
“Father?” he said.
The slight man turned. His eyes went wide and he dropped the plate he was holding. The sound of it shattering rang through empty rooms. “Deshi? Son, is that you? You look so tired.”
Remembering his reflection, Han rubbed his beard. “How have you been?”
“I was starting to think you’d never come home. It’s been almost a year.” The father looked out the wide kitchen windows, holding his hands to keep them from shaking. “I kept thinking of the day you left. How I spoke hastily. Did you find what you were looking for?”
“Father,” Han said, suddenly overwhelmed with guilt. “I came back to warn you.”
“Warn me?” Han’s father laughed sharply. “Your time away from your family has addled your mind. What could I possibly have to be worried about?”
“Come sit with me,” Han said, moving to the spacious dining room, with rows of silver and porcelain lined up on teak antiques like good little soldiers. Han and his father sat in c
hairs imported from Scandinavia. “There is something bad coming,” Han said, the tattoos on his shoulders suddenly itchy. “Do you know who the Jade are?”
“A dangerous cult,” Han’s father said automatically, before his eyes went wide. “You?” He looked around fearfully. “If anyone saw you come here, you have sentenced your family to death.”
“No one saw me,” Han said, disdainful that his father would have so little trust. “Anyway, that is the least of your troubles. The Jade are here. In Shanghai. They are hiding in St. Theresa’s Church, in Puxi, and in occuhives all over the city.”
“Was life in my house so bad that it drove you to join a cult?” Han’s father said. “I heard the Jade drowned an entire city to worship a teenage girl. What could you possibly see in these people?”
Han looked away. “I am very lucky to have a good family. I know that now. I took a lot for granted, and I’m sorry.” His father began to speak but Han held out his hand. “I was looking for something luminous. Beyond the mundane. And I found it, in the Jade. On the journey west I fought in battles of angels and demons. I saw miracles with my own eyes. I found a world of the spirit that answers questions, past and future. I was touched by the light of Heaven.”
Han’s father considered his son again, seeing a different boy from the one who had run away. “Then why have you come back?”
Now Han smiled a light, doubtful smile. “Because that light is all around us. The door to truth is in here,” he said, touching his chest. “In the heart. The Jade don’t have a monopoly on the light of Heaven. No one does. There’s something beautiful about no one having the answer about what God is, something open and free. It doesn’t matter whether anything divine can be objectively true. All that matters is whether my experience feels genuine. I see miracles all around me now. Like you, and the island we live on.” Han’s face grew dark. “I see other things that make me afraid. The Jade say that the good people in this city are evil, merely because we were born rich. That’s why I left them. I don’t know what they are planning, but we need to leave town or they’ll come and--”
