Hong Kong

by Mel Odom

  However, no one was here.

  I glanced at Gobbet, but she shook her head. Her rats hadn’t detected anyone either.

  “Hey.” Duncan stood in a corner near a box containing knick-knacks and other junk. He held up a wooden mask that made me instantly think of the Plastic-Faced Man.

  I joined him and took the mask for a closer look. It wasn’t plastic. It was wood, exquisitely carved and sanded to a glossy-smooth finish. Since it was painted white, I thought it might pass as plastic to someone not close enough to see it well. Whoever had fashioned it had created raised eyebrows and delicate features, bright red lips and black teeth that stood out against the stark white.

  “Got these, too.” Duncan handed a bunch of small charms that looked like square cloth packets about three centimeters wide and twenty-five centimeters tall. They were in various colors, and had Japanese characters representing prosperity, peace, wealth, and protection.

  Is0bel slipped her fingers into one and pulled out a slip of paper, opening it to reveal kanji written on it. More Japanese.

  “Fortunes,” she said, returning the paper to its case. She picked up a paper fan from the box, unfolding it and tilting it into her flashlight beam to see it more clearly.

  The image showed an old East Asian city that looked at least a couple hundred years old. The curved roofs caught the rays of the sunset next to a deep blue river, where two ships with finned sails passed in front of a long wooden bridge. In front of the river, laborers carried buckets along the shore as a rider rode his horse in the opposite direction. Along the mountainous skyline, a large temple hall and a five-tiered pagoda overshadowed everything.

  Behind me, a shoe sole scraped on the concrete floor, and Gobbet’s rats shrilled in alarm. I turned and pointed my flashlight at the man standing there.

  He was tall and thick, an obvious warrior, and clad in armor that matched the piece we’d recovered at the parking garage. He wore a katana at his hip, one big hand resting on it. His face was a nightmare of ashen gray surrounding dead white eyes. Jagged teeth showed between his thin lips. Burn scarring mottled the right side of his bald head.

  “Careful,” Duncan whispered as he stepped away from me. “That’s a ghoul.”

  We’d seen them before, and knew how dangerous they could be. Ghouls were metahumans infected by the HMHVV virus, also known as the Krieger Strain. Although they weren’t undead like the fairy tales concerning them said, they had to consume human flesh to stay alive. Although they sometimes looked like they were falling apart, ghouls tended to be stronger and more durable than humans.

  The ghoul cocked his head and sniffed the air.

  “He’s blind,” Gobbet said, “but ghouls can smell and hear better than you can, and they’re dual-natured. They can perceive you on an astral level, too.”

  Great. We couldn’t use the dark against him, or even the light. He could see us no matter what.

  “Ah, a hired gun,” the ghoul said in a deep voice that echoed in the cavernous room. “No doubt brought to bear against me by the Whampoan Elders.” He smiled, baring his sharpened teeth and crinkling the scar tissue at the side of his head. “A means by which they can lift the curse plaguing them. I salute your tenacity, but I wonder: will you hear me out before raising your weapon to kill me?”

  “You’re a ghoul,” I said. “And…you’re talking?” I’d heard that they sometimes could, but I’d never seen one that could speak.

  “Yes.” He smiled again, and I wished he wouldn’t. “I am not only talking, I am reasoning as well. And, since you have not attempted to kill me, your own higher faculties are engaged. I am a curiosity to you.”

  Remembering the bloody scene at the parking garage and the stories I’d been told about the deaths of the cops, I was leaning more toward a chance at certain death.

  “You wish to know not only what I am, but what I have done,” the ghoul continued. “As for who I am, you may call me Gaichu.”

  “I know who you are,” I said. “You’re the one killing the Whampoan Elders.”

  “You are correct.” Gaichu shifted slightly, but didn’t approach us. “I have killed all of the Whampoan Elders to date, though only Elder Magpie was according to my initial plan. I regret the deaths of the other Elders, but it was necessary.”

  “What do you mean, necessary?” Duncan challenged.

  “This affair began simply enough,” Gaichu responded. “As you may surmise, I am not someone who can be seen in public without great risk. Whampoa Garden is an excellent place to hide: no police or triad presence, and minimal interest in things that lurk in the shadows. Unfortunately for me, Elder Ng discovered me through communion with her spirits. Rather than kill me or chase me away, she came to me with a proposition.”

  “Elder Ng?” Is0bel asked.

  Gaichu nodded.

  The decker glanced at me. “I told you they’re a bunch of petty tyrants. Always scamming and looking out for their own best interests.”

  I didn’t argue the point. “What was the proposition?”

  “Ng and the other Elders were having problems with one of their number,” Gaichu said. “An Elder named Magpie had been holding many of their plans hostage, and would not budge. They could not remove Magpie, however, because her services were too useful to the Whampoans at large. Ng offered me payment to dispose of Magpie, and I accepted.”

  “Why the hell are we talking to this thing?” Duncan growled. “It’s a goddamned ghoul, and you know what they’re like.”

  Not really. I’d never met one like Gaichu before.

  Chapter 36

  The Mercenary

  Gaichu cocked his head toward Duncan. “Really? What, pray tell, am I like? All teeth and claws and bad manners, I expect.” He smiled in genuine amusement.

  “Really?” Duncan said. “You wanna crack jokes, you cannibal?” He stepped forward and raised his rifle. “You’re the kind of monster that’d devour a family just because it’s convenient. Remember the 162s?”

  The question was for me, and I did remember the 162s.

  “He’s just like them,” Duncan snarled.

  “No,” I said in a calm voice, and put my hand on Duncan’s rifle to point the barrel away from Gaichu. The ghoul’s armor would be a problem if things went sideways, anyway. “The 162s were a gang, Duncan. In the Barrens. We’re a long way from the Barrens, remember?”

  “Like that makes a bit of difference!” Duncan bellowed. “Go on, then. Talk to the monster. But I’m keeping my finger on the goddamned trigger.”

  Gaichu went on smoothly, like he hadn’t just had a rifle pointed at his face and been threatened. “I believe we were speaking of the Elders’ plans to have me kill Magpie. Surely you must be a little curious about that.”

  “You didn’t clean up all of her blood,” Duncan said. “I found some in her drain.”

  “Ahh. I thought I was careful. Having it on my hands must have obscured my sense of smell enough that I missed the last remnants in the drain.” Gaichu took a breath. “I disposed of Magpie’s body by emptying the blood in her bathroom. Then, I cut her up into more…portable…pieces. Those were placed in a plastic tarp, which I took to the storm drains and hid.”

  Plastic tarp, huh? He and Kindly Cheng shared a propensity for kill cleanup techniques.

  “It’s unfortunate,” Gaichu stated, “but my survival depends upon consumption of raw metahuman flesh. Letting such nourishment go to waste would be a foolish error.”

  I tried not to think about the snack the rats were feasting on now. “But why kill the other Elders?”

  “I contacted the Elders—not in person, of course,” Gaichu said. “They arranged to exchange payment. I assumed that since the job was done, Ng would be a woman of her word.” He bared his fangs and hissed in displeasure. “I was mistaken. I arrived at the nearby parking garage the Elders had told me about. They’d cleared out the other Whampoans under some pretense, though I’m not sure what ruse they used.”

  That matched up w
ith what we’d learned from the Red Spear gangers.

  “The Elders never showed up,” Gaichu said. “Instead, several members of the Hong Kong Police Force arrived. They were more heavily armed than usual, so I suspect they knew something of my nature.”

  “I saw scarring on the concrete from bullets and a blade. You killed them with a sword?”

  “And my hands, yes.” Gaichu flexed his hand on the sword hilt. “My blindness precludes the use of ranged weapons. Unfortunate, since I was an excellent shot before I became infected. But my skills in grappling and kenjutsu have only increased. A battle of swords is a clash of souls: mine was stronger than theirs, and they perished.”

  I really wasn’t liking our chances in the small room. And the only doorway out was behind the ghoul.

  “A betrayal of that sort cannot stand,” Gaichu said. “Not only was I not paid for my time and effort, the Whampoan Elders treated me like a common animal. And I am so much more than that.”

  I silently agreed, and I started thinking about how I could spin this in our favor. The old man had taken in kids who had nowhere else to go. Gobbet and Is0bel were kind of in the same boat as Duncan and me. Or ship, I supposed. And Racter was an outsider as well.

  “Reputation is everything,” Gaichu said, “and I had none. I had hoped to build a network of contacts so that I would be able to continue finding work, but with that treachery, my hopes were dashed. So I decided to become the monster that they feared.”

  He’d done that, all right. The Elders had gone crying to Kindly Cheng.

  “One by one,” Gaichu said, “I have eliminated them. They know how to contact me, and could have ended their nightmare at any time by making amends. I would have asked for more money, but I would have ceased my hunt. Yet they did not.” He raked us with his gaze. “Instead, they contacted you, no doubt asking you to eliminate me where the police have failed.”

  The Elders had set us up too by not coming clean with us. I definitely wasn’t a fan of them at the moment.

  “Why would the Elders have you killed instead of paying you?” I asked, because I was wondering how they were going to treat us once they found out we knew so many of their secrets and underhanded dealings.

  “Any number of reasons,” Gaichu replied. “They are notorious cheapskates, and will always try to save money when dealing with outsiders. It could be their natural inclination toward profit. They may regard me as subhuman, and therefore unworthy of respect. It could be that they felt I was too dangerous to allow to live. It could even be that they simply did not like me.”

  I could see that, and I could see us getting slotted over in the end, too. I wasn’t wiz about that, either.

  “The net result is the same,” Gaichu said. “They reneged on a deal we brokered, and attempted to have me killed. A message must be sent. Blood must be paid. As they have hired you to kill me, they have obviously not learned their lesson.”

  “If we let you live, what will you do?”

  Duncan shifted beside me, but didn’t argue. Maybe he was thinking about how small the room suddenly felt, too. And I knew he didn’t care much for people who didn’t keep their word. He never had.

  “I will kill the rest of the Elders,” Gaichu said. “And anyone else they send to exterminate me. It is a matter of survival. Should I ever have the opportunity to work freelance again, potential employers need to understand the price of betrayal. These murders are my curriculum vitae in revenge.”

  “Come and work with me,” I said, thinking of the wooden mask. “I can be your face.”

  Gaichu cocked his head in my direction. “A curious offer. And what of the Elders? Will you allow me the satisfaction of killing them?”

  “I want to see what they have to say first.”

  “Hmm. I would counsel you to not believe their words, but you have the sound of one who is wary as a matter of course.” The ghoul nodded. “Very well. I accept your terms.”

  I couldn’t wait to see how the Elders were going to react to this unexpected reunion. Of course, seeing it was one thing. Surviving it was another.

  Chapter 37

  Unraveling the Conspiracy

  Cautiously, we made our way back to the Whampoa. My mind stayed busy, putting everything together. We’d been set up. Kindly Cheng had been lied to. I didn’t know how this was going to work out, but I wasn’t ready to be a patsy and get killed taking care of someone else’s dirty biz while the old man was somewhere out there in this godforsaken sprawl.

  The Elders had called the tune. Now they were going to pay the pipers.

  I messaged Ng and let her know we were ready to meet, but I knew they weren’t prepared for what—who—I was bringing. Maybe even for dinner.

  Inside the Whampoa, Porter Lam stood with the Elders. Evidently they’d called him in, but I thought it was just as well. If I’d had a way of contacting him, I’d have called him in too.

  As we approached the open dining area in the food court where they stood, Elder Ng’s eyes grew wide with alarm.

  “What are you doing?” she bellowed. “You’ve brought this…THING…into our home!” She turned to Porter Lam. “Quick! Kill it before it kills us!”

  Lam acted the way I thought he would, drawing his pistol and taking a shooting stance.

  I lifted my hands and stepped in front of Gaichu to prevent a clear shot. I didn’t know if I was doing more to keep the ghoul from getting shot or from drawing his katana and starting carving people up. Either way, as long as I didn’t die at somebody’s hands in the next couple seconds, I’d count it as a win.

  “Look,” I said to Lam, “we can do this the easy way and nobody gets hurt. Trust me, I know stuff now that you’ll want to know too.”

  Duncan split off from the group, already working the angles in case things broke wrong. Maybe he didn’t like Gaichu, but he still wasn’t going to let me hang in the wind.

  “Yeah,” Lam said, “I have to say, this isn’t a good idea.” He stared at me, daring me to give him a good answer. “Why the hell is a ghoul in here, and why is it wearing armor?”

  “Calm yourselves,” Gaichu said over my shoulder. His voice was calm but loud in the emptiness. I think both of those qualities helped. “I am not an it. And your Elders know this, intimately.” His breath brushed cold against the back of my neck. “Good evening, Elder Ng. I can smell your fear, and I’m glad of this. It means you are learning the price of betrayal.”

  “Whoa, whoa!” Lam exploded. “What the hell is going on here? Can someone explain to me why the ghoul is talking?”

  “It’s not so much that he can talk,” I said, “it’s what he’s prepared to talk about that’s the good part.”

  The Elders shifted nervously, and I watched to see if someone would pull a weapon. The tension was thick, and maybe it would have broken out—if Duncan hadn’t been standing there with an AK-97 on full-auto at the ready.

  “Gaichu had a contract with the Elders,” I said, “and they betrayed him.”

  Lam glanced back at the Elders, and there was a little hesitation. Maybe their betrayal wasn’t a new idea to him.

  “You dare to accuse us of conspiring with a monster and covering it up?” Ip blustered. “You’re insane! The very idea is preposterous!”

  “I’m interested to hear what kind of evidence you have to support this theory,” Lam said in a neutral tone. His pistol remained in his hand. “As far as I can tell, this monster killed Tong and the others, and that makes him a threat that should be eliminated.”

  “Yeah, he even killed Magpie,” I said.

  “Not helping,” Is0bel whispered in my ear.

  I continued. “Gaichu’s a mercenary. A hired gun. The Elders contracted him to kill Elder Magpie, and make it look like she disappeared.”

  “You believe this vermin?” Elder Ng asked. “This creature that feasts on metahuman flesh, that kills and dismembers our tribesmen? You are a naïve and foolish man, if that’s the case.” She spat at the ground in front of me.
<
br />   I pulled my front foot back. My suit was still shiny and new.

  “What proof do you have that Magpie is dead?” she demanded.

  “Ng, please,” Lam said. “You know that when an Elder is accused of breaking our law, the other Elders generally judge them. In matters where all of them have been accused, I am authorized to act as judge.” He locked eyes with me. “Make your case, shadowrunner.”

  Whatever good graces I’d worked up earlier was gone. Lam was all business now. So I led with an ace. I pulled Magpie’s necklace from my pocket and let it dangle from the fingers of my off hand. I rested my right hand on my gun butt. Just in case things got slotted.

  “We found Magpie’s necklace in the storm drains,” I said.

  Lam studied the spinning necklace. “This is definitely Elder Magpie’s. If you found it in the storm drain, that’s suspicious. But hardly proof on its own.”

  “Of course it’s not proof!” Ip yelled. “The number of things lost down storm drains in Hong Kong must number in the tens of thousands per year. While unusual, it’s hardly evidence of foul play.”

  “There was a large amount of blood in her shower drain,” Duncan said, and I knew he was speaking so no one forgot about him—or his assault rifle.

  “So what?” Ip shook his head. “Perhaps she cut herself, and washed it off. Or perhaps you are mistaken about it being blood. You’re probably simply guessing as to what happened.”

  “That’s true,” Lam said. “It’s a guess. And even if it is her blood, that doesn’t prove that the Elders hired this ghoul to kill her.” Still, he gave Ip a sidelong glance that told me the Elder wasn’t winning any points here either. “The Elders have always protected Whampoa Garden to the best of their ability.”

  “Magpie hasn’t been seen in a month,” Is0bel said, “not by anyone. She wouldn’t just disappear like that.”

  “That may be unlikely,” Lam acknowledged, “but it’s hardly impossible. You haven’t established that the Elders were involved yet. All you’ve done is make suppositions about it.”