by Mel Odom
“What proof do you have that we hired and betrayed this creature?” Tang demanded. “I won’t sit by and listen to idle accusations without any kind of concrete evidence to back it up.”
“What about the fight with the Hong Kong Police Force?” Gobbet asked.
“How do you mean?” Lam asked. “What does that have to do with the Elders and the ghoul?”
“You Whampoans don’t allow police inside the area,” I said. “Why make an exception this time?”
Elder Ng calmly folded her hands, but it took effort. “We allowed the police into Whampoa Garden because they were hunting someone. They never told us who or why they were looking for their quarry. It didn’t have anything to do with us.”
“I was only in the garage to collect payment from them,” Gaichu told Lam. “The ordinary residents were warned of the HKPF’s arrival, and were gone by the time I arrived.”
Lam’s pistol dropped a little and he no longer looked as certain as he had before. “That’s…suspicious, I admit.” He glanced at the Elders. “But it still doesn’t prove the Elders knew it was the ghoul.”
He was stubborn, hanging onto something he’d obviously believed in for a long time. But he was the only guy in the room I had to convince.
The others already knew they were lying slags.
Chapter 38
The Unusual Suspects
“Why make an exception for the police this time?” I repeated. I wanted to drive that point home, because once it locked in, the rest of their web of lies and half-truths would fracture and fall.
“The police were polite,” Elder Ng said, “and asked our permission to enter. They were hunting a non-Whampoan. That was reason enough for us to allow them in.”
“That doesn’t add up,” Lam stated quietly. “Why would the police ask us for entry now? They’ve never been polite before, and they’ve always tried to force their way in here. It just doesn’t ring true to me.” He looked at her. “Did you ask them to come? In order to hunt down this ghoul?”
“Preposterous, Porter,” Tang argued. “You know what our community is like. We wouldn’t lie over something like this.” He stared daggers at Gaichu. “This ghoul has been lying the entire time, trying to cover his tracks. He still brutally murdered several Elders!”
“That’s true.” Lam looked back at me. “Those murders were vicious and cruel. I don’t see any way to explain that away. This ghoul is a monster for how he killed Tong and the others.”
“Tong wasn’t tortured,” Gobbet said. “There was no astral residue of pain or fear. He didn’t even feel the blow that killed him. It was made to look more horrific than it was. Like the others.”
“That’s correct,” Gaichu stated flatly. “I struck a single blow while his back was to me. His death was instant. Regrettable that he had to die for your folly, Ng, but necessary to protect my reputation.”
Ng glared at him for a moment, then switched her attention to Lam, who, I was sure, felt himself pulled in opposing directions. “You cannot believe what these people say. They are not to be trusted. And even if this is true, he still killed Tong.”
“Maybe so, Ng. But a monster would not take Tong’s suffering into account. He may be a killer, but he’s not heartless.” Lam looked at me, then at Gaichu. “I believe you. The blood smeared on the walls. The removal of the skin. That’s a scene designed to evoke horror, not the scene of an actual fight.” He turned to the people beside him. “Elders, what do you have to say in response?”
“This is a farce,” Ng said. “We have dedicated ourselves to protecting the Whampoan Tribe and everyone who lives in Whampoa Garden. Do you really believe outsiders and monsters over our word? We who have only tried to end the killings? You’ve been duped, Porter. You and this shadowrunner.”
“I concur,” Ip said. “Porter, you know me! You know the kind of person I am! I wouldn’t be party to the killing of another Elder!”
Tang snorted indignantly. “I can’t believe we’re even entertaining the notion that we have to defend ourselves. We should be disposing of this ghoul instead!” He narrowed his eyes and hissed at me. “If you think I’ll forget this, you’re sorely mistaken. I will not tolerate this kind of insult.”
I ignored him. The only person I had to convince was the same one they were trying to convince. I focused on Lam. “The Elders were all too happy to have the Red Spears move into the garage afterward. Almost like they wanted to keep anyone curious about the fight away.”
Lam nodded. “That’s right. Ip, you even told me not to go find out what happened with the fight. You said the Red Spear gangers were moving in, and to leave them alone. Why would you tell me not to look into it?”
“I was only trying to protect you from the Red Spears!” Ip cried. “They’re dangerous, which is why I wanted to deal with them directly.”
“Magpie’s gear was missing,” Is0bel pointed out. “Obviously missing. Why didn’t Ip tell us that? Tang had to have noticed, and Magpie’s shop is locked up. Why didn’t he want us investigating?”
“Pure supposition!” Tang scoffed. “You think it proves something that I didn’t notice equipment was missing? Magpie’s shop is always a horrible mess!”
“Tang,” Lam said, deadly serious now, “you did a full inventory of Magpie’s Matrix servers. You assured us everything was running fine, and you would be able to continue her work. I find it hard to believe you missed something as obvious as missing equipment, especially while searching her stock.”
“And?” Ng demanded. “What do you believe the real story is?”
Lam turned to face them, and I knew I had my answer in his body language. I drew in a full breath and waited.
“Gaichu seems to be telling the truth,” Lam accused. “Elders, too many facts don’t add up. You are obviously hiding something—possibly a great deal—from the rest of the tribe. I’m sorry, but I have to take you into custody until the community can decide the extent and manner of your punishment.”
“Death would seem appropriate to me,” Gaichu growled. “Especially given that they kept up this charade even to you, one of their most trusted citizens.”
I thought he was stepping over the line a little, but I didn’t say anything. However, Ip had plenty to say.
“Don’t you dare to talk to me like that, you disgusting beast!” Ip reached for his weapon.
Lam caught Ip’s wrist and kept the weapon holstered. “Ip, no,” Lam said forcefully. “Don’t make this any worse than it is.”
Ip stopped and Lam removed the weapon, sliding it into his own pocket.
Lam turned to us. “Thank you. I’ll make certain that justice is meted out. You are free to go, and I will ensure payment is delivered to you—so long as you take Gaichu with you. I can’t have him staying here.”
I didn’t point out that Gaichu didn’t want to stay there in the first place. I nodded. “He’ll be coming with us.”
The ghoul didn’t speak till we reached the streets. “I confess, I am unhappy with the decision to allow the Whampoan Elders to live. We should have killed them, if for no other reason than to maintain our reputation.”
“If you’re going to run with this team,” I told him, “you’ll have to learn to accept my decisions.”
He hesitated, then nodded, and I couldn’t help wondering just how long that rule would hold. For the moment, I wanted to see what Kindly Cheng had to say, and if she’d gotten any news of the old man.
Chapter 39
“People Don’t Just Come Out Of Thin Air”
Heavy footsteps rang on the metal ladder to the Bolthole’s main room. The sec systems Gobbet and Is0bel had set up on the ship showed no threats, but I was aware of how foolies could slip past cyberware.
I picked up my pistol and slid out of the seat in front of the computer where I’d been perusing screamsheets. Flicking the pistol’s safety off, I let my breath out slowly.
Duncan stepped into the room with a long canvas bag hanging over one shoulder. He sa
w me and grinned. “Hoi, chummer. You finally make it outta bed?”
I flicked the pistol’s safety back on. “Yeah. Didn’t know you’d left.”
He frowned. “I didn’t sleep very well.”
I hadn’t either. It had been a long, restless night that ended up in sweat-soaked sheets. “Nightmares?”
“Yeah.” He shook his head and his eyes looked haunted. “I can’t remember much of them, but I know I’ve never had anything like them before.” He took a breath and let it out. “Truth to tell, I think it’s this place. The sooner we find out what happened to Raymond and get the hell out of Hong Kong, the happier I’ll be.”
I nodded.
“Anybody else up?” He put the bag on the floor and knelt beside it.
“Not that I know of.”
We’d settled Gaichu in one of the spare berths. All the open space seemed to unnerve him a little, but he didn’t mention it.
“Where were you?” I asked.
“Out for a stroll. Thought I’d hit up Club 88, see what they had. We upgraded our armor, but I got you something with all those credits Kindly Cheng paid us for that last run.” Duncan pulled a slick-shiny Ingram Smartgun submachine gun from the bag. The thick silencer added several centimeters to the overall length, but it was still short, still easily concealable, and instantly deadly in the right hands. Like my hands.
I took the Ingram and worked the action. Everything slid smooth as silk. “The silencer will come in handy.”
“I thought so, too.” Duncan smiled and pulled another weapon from the bag. “Got something for me, too. For when silence is no longer an option.” He proudly displayed the Remington 990 combat shotgun. “And for when we need people out of our way. Permanently.”
I’d used the Remington before. With all the power it packed, it was efficient, lethal, and totally unforgiving.
“I also brought breakfast.” Duncan set the shotgun aside and reached into the bag, bringing out two cartons that smelled of spices. “Shakshuka eggs with feta and sourdough, and avocado benedict with yogurt hollandaise. I found them by accident, but I remembered Raymond making them for us.”
I did, too, and the memory brought back other memories that I quickly walled away. The old man had given us a good home. I didn’t appreciate it then, and I didn’t want to remember it now. I tried to live by going forward.
We took the breakfasts and a couple of soykafs from the galley and went up on the Bolthole’s deck to eat under a stretched canvas canopy. I think we just wanted some time by ourselves, but we spent most of it watching the boats and ships in the harbor around us. The spice in the shakshuka killed most of the stink in the air when I was chewing, and the ship rolled slowly beneath us.
“While I was at Club 88, I ran into a couple people I knew,” Duncan said. “Shadowrunners I’d heard about that had done some biz in Seattle. Chrysalis is an elven decker who’s really easy on the eyes. A street sam named Jaxx, also a looker. Has this killer tat of a cherry blossom tree in full bloom on her neck.” He touched his throat with a forefinger. “I asked both of ’em about Kindly Cheng, but they didn’t have much info. They did introduce me to this troll rigger who calls himself MAGNATE. All caps, no kidding.” He rolled his eyes. “Anyway, MAGNATE has dealt with Cheng before. Says we can trust her.”
“That’s good to know. So, they just chatted you up? In spite of you being Lone Star?”
Duncan frowned. “I was Lone Star. They already knew about the was part, too. Since we’d never gotten in each other’s crosshairs, it was all good.” He leaned back in his chair and looked smug. “Chrysalis gave me a contact for her. In case I want to…contact her.”
“You always did get the girls.”
Duncan suddenly took lot more interest in the remains of his breakfast, but I could have sworn his face reddened a bit. I tactfully remained silent about it, and just kept eating.
Finally, when we were down to just the soykaf, I told Duncan about the sniffer program Is0bel had written to seek any info about the old man that traveled through the ’Net. I’d found it on the computer. “I didn’t know she was doing that.”
“Yeah, I asked her to set that up,” Duncan said. “Kindly Cheng doesn’t strike me as the giving sort. Anything we get from her, we’re gonna pay for. Is0bel agreed, because Cheng’s kept things from her and Gobbet before.”
I understood the thinking. When someone ran an op with a team, it was better to compartmentalize. I suspected Duncan’s history with Lone Star put him in the same position.
“Did she find out anything?” Duncan asked. “I haven’t had a chance to look at it.”
“She tracked him through his SIN,” I said. “At first, she got a lot of hits. Citizens leave a lot of data in their wake. When Is0bel tracked the old man back through records, she found a lot. Power. Utilities. A couple of public discussion sites he signed up for. But the further back she went, the less there was.”
Duncan frowned, and I knew he was thinking the same thing I was. “She notes that prior to 2032, she couldn’t find anything.”
I let that sink in, knowing he wouldn’t like that at all. But I couldn’t hold it back from him. He needed to know what we were dealing with.
Crumpling up the soykaf container, Duncan fired it at the empty carton at his feet. “People don’t just come out of thin air.”
“No,” I said. “They don’t.”
Looking around at the sprawl covered by the toxic smog filling the sky and turning the morning dark, Duncan cursed. “There’s something here that brought him to this place. And he’s got a lot of connections here, too. A lot of people seem to know him.” He paused. “Raymond’s got history here that we didn’t know about.”
“Whatever it is,” I said, “we’ll find it.”
He looked at me. “Why would you stick with this?”
“I don’t want you looking for the old man on your own.”
“That’s all you feel?”
I tried to avoid his gaze, but couldn’t. “Maybe I owe him something, too.” I took a deep breath and let it out. “And right now we’re on the hook to Kindly Cheng. We’ll stick with it until we find out that doesn’t work anymore.”
“I could handle this on my own.” He glared at me as if daring me to challenge that, and for a moment I remembered how stubborn he’d been as a kid after he’d changed.
“I know you can.” I sipped the soykaf, which had gone cold. “But you don’t have to.”
“That’s good. Gobbet and Is0bel seem like they’ll hang too, but I get the feeling things will get harder.”
“They will.” I wadded up the soykaf cup and dropped it in the bag. “Have you seen what the screamsheets are saying about those two?”
Duncan shook his head.
“According to the latest release, Gobbet’s real name is Yuchun Gwei. Supposedly born in Xi’an, Shaanxi. She’s twenty-three years old, and supposedly served with the Baihu corporate military until a conviction for insubordination led to her dishonorable discharge.”
“The military?” Duncan laughed out loud. “No fuckin’ way.”
“I think it’s just damage control by whoever set us up. Get that story out there, make her seem more dangerous than she is.”
“She’s dangerous, but she doesn’t go looking for it. What about Is0bel?”
“Her name is supposed to be Fatima Abukar. They have her as a revolutionary trained in terrorism and piracy in the Ethiomalian Territories. She’s wanted in connection with the 2052 bombing attack on the French embassy in Johannesburg.”
“You don’t believe that either.”
“No. She said she was born and grew up in Whampoa Garden. I think that’s the truth. There was too much hurt in her eyes that she didn’t want anyone to see. And she has too much history there.” I leaned back in the chair. “You ready to go to work?”
“Kindly Cheng came through with another job already?” Duncan looked a little surprised.
“She did. She’s definitely not someone to
let the grass grow.”
Chapter 40
The Emperor’s Tomb Score
Once Gobbet and Is0bel were up a couple hours later, I had the run set up for them. We stood in the main room and I worked the computer, playing the video Kindly Cheng had provided. We stared at the handsome face frozen in the air above the trid.
“Who’s this guy?” Gobbet sounded cranky, and I wondered if she’d been having bad dreams too, but now wasn’t the time to ask.
“An archeologist,” I said. “Kindly Cheng said his name was Mr. Drake, but it might as well be Mr. Johnson as far as I’m concerned, because I doubt it’s his real name.”
“What does he want?” Is0bel didn’t sound happy either.
“He wants us to steal some artifacts from a museum in Tai Po,” I said.
Gobbet scowled. “What artifacts?”
“I’m going to let him tell that.” I started the recording on the trid.
Handsome and well-dressed, Drake didn’t strike me as the kind of guy who crawled around in pyramids or trekked through forgotten jungles, but people could surprise me. He spoke clearly and concisely, like a university professor warming up to a favorite subject. The tusks jutting up from his lower jaw marked him as an ork.
“Recently, a rich investor by the name of Liu Hua decided to expand his manor house on the outskirts of Tai Po.”
I pulled up an image of the original house, an imposing monolith from another time, set squarely in a well-cultivated garden that was a statement of wealth in a country where space was at a premium.
“Too much money,” Drake went on, “not enough space for fancy parties. Liu hit a snag with local government officials. They suspected the land his estate was built on may have premodern archeological artifacts dating from the Song Dynasty buried beneath it.”
“That predates the Yuan Dynasty,” Is0bel said from the computer, where I assumed she was pulling up info. “Tenth century stuff. That’s old.”
“Consequently,” Drake continued, “I was contracted as an archeologist to oversee the excavations and ensure everything was properly recorded and catalogued.”