Hong Kong

by Mel Odom

  Gobbet looked at the three exits from the basement. It stood to reason we’d come in through one of them. She leaned toward one of the exits, then the other. “We gotta go deep. Hit the mainland for a while until we can figure this out. Find a hole to crawl into.”

  I was thinking the same thing, but there was no way we could live in a hole. Not with this much heat coming down on us.

  Gobbet looked at Is0bel while she pointed at us. “We’ve gotta get them off the grid, too. Way off.”

  Understanding lit Is0bel’s eyes and she glanced up at Duncan. “Hey, Lone Star. You’ve got a security license, right? That means you’ve got a SIN, too.”

  “Of course I’ve got a SIN,” Duncan replied. “I wouldn’t be able to get paid otherwise. Only criminals and lowlifes go SINless.”

  As observations went, it wasn’t a great one to make with our present company.

  “That means you can be traced.” Is0bel brought out her deck, unconsciously playing with the keyboard. “Both of you. You get spotted by a drone or a security camera, get ID’d by a retinal scanner, or try to use your credstick or passport, and the HKPF will know just where to find you.”

  On the defensive, Duncan crossed his big arms. “I know how a System Identification Number works, runner.”

  He was forgetting we needed friends. I glanced over at him meaningfully. “Leave her alone, Duncan. We’re all in this together.”

  Gobbet shook her head angrily. “We’re just as screwed as you are. Me and Is0bel, we were just named as your accomplices. And we can’t afford for you to get caught. You’ll lead ’em to us, one way or another. DNA samples, things we’ve told you, astral residue, I don’t know…cop stuff.”

  “We need to get your SINs burned,” Is0bel said. “Delete you from the record books. All of ’em.”

  Duncan raised his hands in alarm. “All of them? Whoa, wait a minute. You want us to just erase our identities?” He shook his head. “Beyond the fact that it’s insane, will that even work? If we burn our SINs, go off the grid like that, won’t they just redouble their efforts to find us?”

  Is0bel pursed her lips as if she was regarding a spiteful child. “Imagine playing hide-and-seek with a siren strapped to your head. Would you rather hide with the siren, or with the siren conspicuously absent?”

  I spoke up before Duncan could. “Let’s just get on with it. What do we have to do?” I’d already had this done in Seattle, but I didn’t have the resources here to get rid of the SIN the prison had assigned me.

  “We gotta ask for help,” Gobbet said. “There’s only one person we know who has the kind of pull it takes to burn a SIN and hide us from the cops.” She paused, and I got the feeling she didn’t even want to say the name out loud. “Kindly Cheng.”

  The name meant nothing to me.

  “Who’s Kindly Cheng?” I asked. “Some sort of superdecker?”

  “No.” Is0bel shook her head. “Kindly’s no decker.”

  “She’s what’s known as a Straw Sandal,” Gobbet said. “Kind of a middle manager for the Yellow Lotus syndicate.”

  I took that in. According to Evans-Ehricht’s intel, a Straw Sandal was a messenger for the triad, on equal footing with Red Poles and White Paper Fans, the enforcers and bankers of the criminal society. We weren’t just talking about going off the grid. We were talking about getting involved with some heavy hitters in organized crime. I’d never gotten in that deep.

  “They’re triad,” Gobbet continued. “Kindly Cheng controls all the illegal activity in our neighborhood—smuggling, bootlegging, counterfeiting.”

  I assumed that we might have already encountered some of Cheng’s people out on the dock. I hoped that didn’t come back to bite us on the ass. At least we hadn’t left any witnesses.

  “No way.” I said that to reassure Duncan that I wasn’t just going to fall in with the dark side, but I also wanted him to know that we didn’t have any other options. Our newfound companions could sell that. All I had to do was close the deal. “We’re already in deep enough. We don’t need to get in deeper with a crime syndicate.”

  Duncan looked relieved, but I knew that was going to be short-lived.

  “We don’t want to deal with Kindly Cheng any more than you do,” Gobbet said. Her rats moved restlessly, and I guessed they were feeding off her anxiety. “But I don’t see what choice we have. We need protection, and we need to get your SINs burned before we’re all red smears on the sidewalk.”

  Duncan flinched at that—no doubt remembering how Carter had looked the last time he’d seen her.

  “Taking favors from a woman like Kindly Cheng is a good way to get yourself into indentured servitude,” Is0bel said. “You don’t want to owe favors to a woman like that.” She swallowed. “Ideally, you don’t want to deal with her at all. That was Nightjar’s job.”

  That caught my attention. “Nightjar’s job? You mean you work with her?”

  “What’d we just tell you?” Is0bel rolled her eyes, reminding me again that she was only a little younger than I was. “She’s got her fingers in everything, including brokering shadowruns for the corps. Kindly Cheng is our fixer.”

  “Just stay on her good side, and you’ll have nothing to worry about,” Gobbet said with a small, uncertain smile. “Now let’s get this done before one of you trips the APB and brings hell down upon us.”

  She walked toward the far end of the room, Is0bel right behind her.

  Duncan didn’t move.

  I looked at him. “We don’t have a choice, not if you want to find the old man. Not if you want to find whoever’s responsible for Carter’s death. Those are two good reasons not to hold back.”

  I left him with his decision, not certain which way it would go. But before I took three steps, his footsteps echoed in the enclosed space right along with mine.

  Chapter 12

  The Memory Hole

  The growling rumble of the Mass Transit Railway echoed through the tunnels and underground chambers for a long time before Gobbet led us up through the final twists and turns that put us into a maintenance shaft with access to the tracks.

  I didn’t like the constant noise. That made it too easy to miss something in the oppressive darkness. I kept careful watch as we went, but it was hard to look forward and backward at the same time. Duncan had the same problem.

  The women plunged through the deep shadows like they’d done it a hundred times before. Maybe they had.

  I kept the Guardian in hand as I followed. The tunnels didn’t bother me so much. There was only a hint of claustrophobia now and again. Seattle had an Underground too, but that place was lively, filled with as much action as the sprawl’s streets.

  By the time we reached an open area beside the tracks, sweat covered me. Not all of it was from trotting through the tunnels. I breathed a little easier, but the air held chem stink and crackled with static discharges from the maglev circuitry running through the rails only a few meters away.

  A short distance farther on, we clambered up to the boarding station and avoided the sec cams. It was late at night, and the few people waiting to catch the MTR didn’t notice us because they were brain-fogged from not enough sleep, too many hours at work, juiced out on their favorite drugs or alcohol, or living another existence on BTL chips.

  I never got the beetleheads. Better-Than-Life sensies constantly spinning through your head with never-was and never-will-be didn’t keep you from getting beaten up, knifed, or shot. They just dulled awareness of the real world.

  We stood on the boarding platform looking disheveled and worn. Charred holes from the fire left my armor showing in places, but I fit in fine with the crowd.

  A placard on the wall announced this was HEOI STATION. Beyond it, a stairwell led up to the surface and out into the sprawl. The salt smell of the sea told me we were still near the waterfront. Vehicle groans and growls and foot traffic let me know the world still moved above us.

  Gobbet stepped toward Duncan and me, and Is0bel closed ranks
with us as well. I got the definite feeling that an ultimatum was in the wind, and I didn’t know where that would leave Duncan and me.

  “This is the MTR station for Heoi,” the rat shaman said. “Once you go up those stairs, you’ll be in our neighborhood. Kindly Cheng runs her operation out of a mahjong parlor called Swift Winds.”

  Duncan took off his Lone Star issued glasses and pocketed them. “There’s an APB out on us. How do you expect us to get to this Swift Winds place without taking a bullet?”

  I wasn’t too thrilled about the prospect of being on the streets either.

  “Heoi is well known as a protected area.” Confidence filled Gobbet’s words, but I knew that was her view of the world, not ours. “Kindly Cheng sees to that. It’s a shadow community—smugglers, hijackers, black marketers—you get the idea. Cops tend to give the place a wide berth.”

  I kept my pistol hidden under the folds of my duster, but I didn’t put it away. I suspected Duncan did the same. After everything we’d been through tonight, neither of us felt all that trusting—of anyone.

  Is0bel nodded. “Police cameras don’t last long here. Between the smog and the cloud cover, we shouldn’t have to worry about drone surveillance either. The HKPF won’t find you. Not if you follow our lead.”

  That sounded good. So far.

  “Now, here’s how this is going to work,” Gobbet said. “You can’t get an audience with Cheng until we secure an invitation. So me and Is0bel will go on ahead and pay our respects. Then we’ll request that she see you. Politely.” She emphasized the last.

  “An invitation?” I asked. “How do we get that?”

  Gobbet smirked, but only a little humor showed in the weak effort. “We’ll kiss her ass till it shines.”

  Is0bel sighed. “That’s about the size of it.”

  “One more thing,” Gobbet said. “Kindly Cheng is a dangerous woman. She may seem friendly, but don’t let your guard drop. And whatever you do, do not disrespect her.”

  Duncan’s chest swelled, and I knew he was about to get prickly. I nodded. “Got it.”

  A look of relief swept over Gobbet’s face. “That’s it. We’ll go on ahead and smooth the way. Just give us a few minutes’ head start. And don’t talk to anyone.”

  “Why don’t we just go with you?” I asked.

  Irritation pulled at Is0bel’s mouth. “Because no one knows you here. And outsiders aren’t welcome in Heoi.”

  “Plus,” Gobbet said, looking at Duncan, “your friend here radiates cop. Cops are even less welcome than outsiders.” She flicked her gaze back to me. “And you—you’re not exactly ordinary either, are you?”

  “I can blend in when I need to.”

  “If people see us strolling through town together with no prior explanation,” Gobbet continued, “we might not make it to the mahjong parlor at all.”

  Reluctantly, I nodded. “I get it.” The shadows operated with the same blend of paranoia and distrust everywhere.

  “That’s good.” Gobbet took a breath. “You catch on real quick. We need your SINs burned as badly as you do. And we need to figure a way out of this shit. Or we’re all dead.”

  Is0bel turned away and muttered, “See you at the mahjong parlor.” Without a word, Gobbet followed.

  Duncan and I watched them walk away. The idea of being left behind didn’t make me happy. I didn’t like the fact that we’d been dropped on foreign soil and had people on both sides of the law looking for us. There wasn’t enough shadow to spread around to keep us hidden.

  Duncan paced uncertainly, tracking mud across the tiled floor, and I knew the same thoughts were rocketing through his head.

  A train arrived, and a synthesized male voice bade goodbye to departing passengers and greeted arriving ones. The exchange happened swiftly and subway riders moved like cattle. A couple minutes later, the magnetos fired up, and it shot away down the line.

  Beside me, Duncan laughed. The sound started out small, but it quickly grew into a full belly laugh, and I knew he didn’t have complete control over himself.

  I looked at him and he looked at me. “We’re still in this,” I said. “We’re still looking for the old man. We take what we have and improve on it. Same way we did back in the Barrens.”

  The laughter went away, and his breathing calmed. He folded his arms, once more looking formidable. Evidently the kid I’d protected had grown up, but he still had vulnerable spots.

  Same as me. Recognizing your weaknesses, though, was the first step to turning them into strengths.

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” Duncan demanded. “What the hell are we doing here? How did we get into this?”

  I wanted to tell him that this wasn’t us, that the old man had sucked us into this. I didn’t, however, because I knew that was the wrong course to take.

  “I think I’m gonna lose it.” Duncan took in a ragged breath.

  “Bullshit,” I said. “You’re a rock.” And I hoped he was. “You’ve seen harder times than this when you were a kid, and we had a lot less to work with.”

  “I’m trying to maintain.” He blew out another breath, and the weak light around us dulled his eyes. “Seriously, I am. But—” His voice broke. “Carter is dead. They fucking ended her. I don’t know what I’m going to do now.”

  I waited a tick, trying to figure out how to handle this, then I decided to rip open the wound so it wouldn’t fester. “Sounds like she was more than just your partner.”

  “More than just a partner?” His face turned grim. “Of course she was—” He caught himself then, and I knew he didn’t want to spill everything. “She was my training officer, you idiot. My mentor.”

  I knew I had become a target, but that was fine. Attacking me gave Duncan something else to think about other than the slotted up mess we were in. So I didn’t back off. “It looked like you two were close.”

  “Carter was my partner. She had my back.” He glared at me. “Do you get how important that is? What it means to lose that?” He snorted in disgust. “When you’re on the streets facing down a food riot, you need to know someone’s looking out for you. That you’re standing next to someone you can depend on. That was Carter.”

  So, yeah, I got what he was saying. Duncan wasn’t pulling any punches either. I waited the storm out, letting him get it all off his chest.

  “And she was like my compass. Or my anchor.” He shook his head. “Or some such shit.” He took another breath. “She kept me…I don’t know. Sane.”

  “Sounds like a good woman.”

  “Don’t patronize me.” He stepped away from me. For a few moments, I thought I’d lost him to the grief, to all the uncertainty of my disappearance these last eight years, and to the slotted situation the old man had dragged us into.

  Then he turned and faced me again. “Screw it! Whatever she was, I’m throwing her down the memory hole.”

  Memory hole. We’d started calling it that when we’d lived on the streets. All the drek that happened in the past? None of it mattered. If it couldn’t feed us, couldn’t protect us, couldn’t be saved or turned around? It went down the memory hole. We’d put a lot of stuff down there.

  “You know why?” Duncan demanded.

  I knew why. That had become part of our mantra.

  “Because it doesn’t matter now.”

  I almost said the words with him, but I didn’t.

  “Because we’re going to burn our SINs.” He was still trying to wrap his head around that concept, and I knew it went against his grain to do that. “Jesus Christ, do you know what that means?”

  I did, but waited for him to say it. Sometimes the worst words you hear have to be spoken by you, in your own way.

  “The moment we do that, we’re dead. To all the world, we’re dead. We’re wiped clean.” Duncan ticked it off on his fingers. “Raymond, the house we grew up in, my career…Carter. All gone. No home. No money. No identity. Nothing. We will be nobody.”

  I spoke as calmly as I could. “I’m gonna
find a way out of this. Just follow my lead like you did in the old days.”

  That was a mistake. I stepped into it before I realized I was on dangerous ground. Maybe I was tired, or maybe there were some lingering narco effects or a juju hangover from whatever Gobbet had done to me.

  Duncan stepped back toward me, his eyes blazing. “You want to bring up the old days? Are you fucking serious? You left the old days years ago.” His nostrils flared as he sucked in air. “You left me behind.”

  The night I left the old man’s house, Duncan had caught me. He’d asked why I was leaving. I hadn’t had any other answer than I couldn’t stay. I didn’t trust the old man, couldn’t trust the old man. Not the way Duncan could. So, when he wouldn’t let me go, I’d run. He’d tried to keep up with me, but I was too fast.

  I stood there now, feeling that old hurt all over again, and I knew that if I had it to do over, knowing what I knew now, I wasn’t sure I’d have the strength to do it again.

  But I didn’t have it to do over. It was done.

  It just wouldn’t go down the memory hole.

  Chapter 13

  Step Into Mahjong Parlor

  “Now let’s hear it,” Duncan said. “Where the hell have you been all this time? Why didn’t you contact me? At least to tell me you were alive.”

  I told him the truth. There was no reason to hold it back. My voice came out flat. “I wanted to, Duncan. But I was locked up tight. Corporate black site. No communication.”

  “No shit?” The way he stared at me, I knew he was trying to tell if I was giving him the truth. Evidently he believed me. “Oh. Fuck. I…I had no idea.” He let out a long sigh, and I knew the storm raging inside him had passed. “Wow, I really don’t know how to process that one right now…” He worked his jaw for a moment. “I don’t know. If we’re still alive tomorrow, we can talk more. All this shit is just too much.”

  I silently agreed with him. I didn’t want to end up back inside a corporate lockdown. Or dead. But the old man was in trouble, and I knew Duncan wasn’t going to walk away from it. My brother wasn’t wired like that.